I am happy to present the third and final story from my friend Robert. A true story? I will leave it to you to decide.
Robert didn’t hear her coming as he proceeded to slam the locker doors shut in the changing room, not that he could above the din of metal meeting metal. He had just received a letter from home which had made him very upset and angry; his mother was not coming to visit him at the weekend after all. Going to the locker room for privacy had certainly seemed a great idea at the time and so much better than the communal “reading session” all boarders had to endure in the hour before lights out. He had silently left the library whilst the others were still reading and the changing room with the row of open doors was just too inviting and too diverting to ignore; on impulse and to assuage his anger he was methodically slamming the doors shut one by one – he had set about his task with noisy abandon.
“What on earth do you think you are doing Robert? Why are you not in the library? He looked up to see Miss de Havilland, the House Mistress standing there. To Robert, she looked so tall and severe, all the boys were afraid of her. What she lacked in warmth, she made up in menace and rarely did she ever smile. Tonight was no exception.
“Well boy, I am waiting for an answer”
Robert looked at her and said nothing, so scared was he at that moment
“Well Robert you have certainly been able to make plenty of noise, I heard you from the other side of the dining room, but now you are silent” She stared at him for some time before saying ” I can see that we will have to check whether your vocal chords are impaired or not. I expect you in my study at eight O clock”
Robert wanted to cry for he knew what that meant. Having arrived at the school just over two months ago at the age of eight, he had heard about, but never experienced, the thrashings Miss de Havilland gave. Brave boys had entered her study only to return crying and wailing, the noise of their punishment travelling through the thick walls as if they were made of paper. The House Mistress did not seem to spare the rod and certainly didn’t stop when a boy started to cry; only finishing when the miscreant was deemed to have received the punishment she felt was appropriate.
“Please Miss, I didn’t mean to slam the doors”
“Ah, so you have recovered your tongue. Well Robert, you will have plenty of time while I am smacking your bottom to explain why you didn’t mean to but nevertheless found it necessary to slam the doors”. Miss de Havilland was very pleased with her alliteration and smiled as she added ” Very shortly I expect you will making as much noise, if not more, as those doors closing.” Looking at him she warned him not to be late before turning to leave the changing room.
Robert returned dejectedly to the library; he knew there was no escaping what was about to happen and was on the verge of crying. He wanted to hide but thought the better of it, after all he felt he had nobody to turn to, certainly not his mother who wasn’t now visiting him or his father who he knew would, if he were to find out, only give him an even worse thrashing than he considered Miss de Havilland could ever manage. Just before eight Robert walked down the passage to her study. The other boys from his year saw him and immediately guessed his impending fate. With whispers of “Good Luck” Robert stood outside her door and waited. As the school clock struck the hour Miss de Havilland opened the door and stood aside to let Robert enter.
Miss de Havilland’s Story
She had wanted to spank Robert from the moment she first met him on the first day of term at the entrance to the boarding house. Bright eyed and eager with a slim figure, brown hair and a good complexion Robert was everybody’s idea of a handsome boy. But it was his bottom that so attracted her attention clad in his grey shorts – full but not oversized and perfectly round. Once his and other parents had left she had called a house assembly and spoke to the boys wearing her own “school uniform” of high heels, tight pencil skirt and white blouse. But on this occasion Ophelia de Havilland had decided to wear her gown as well. “Let them see what they’re up against” she thought as she surveyed the room.
“I would like to make clear” she had said “that there will be no bad behaviour or disobedience in my house and woe betide any boy who transgresses. I will not hesitate to thrash any boy who deserves it and I can assure you that my spankings will hurt” She paused and looked slowly around the room being pleased that she had their complete attention, intoxicated by the power her position gave her and the fear she was instilling. “Just so you understand” she added “any thrashing I give will be on the bare-bottom and you WILL be hollering by the end of it. I suggest you heed my warning, now off you go to your dormitories.” The boys left the room silently but Robert, as he left, looked back. Miss de Havilland caught his eye and smiled as if she say “I was talking to you my boy, you have been warned and I will have you over my knee before too long”. He quickly averted his gaze.
And so the term progressed with Miss de Havilland having plenty of opportunity of flexing her muscles as a procession of boys made their way to her study, usually for minor infractions. How she loved to see them tremble in front of her and to watch as she ordered them to take off their shorts before placing themselves over her knee, presenting their little bottoms for her delight. “God” she thought “I really enjoy my job” as the miscreant’s bottom turned a deep red through the steady application of her hand and a wooden backed hairbrush. She loved it as they cried, not immediately as many boys tried to be brave at first, but when eventually the pain got too much for them. And then it would be like the floodgates opening – a continuous wail and uncontrollable sobbing. At that point she felt so good, so in control, so sure of her role in educating and disciplining young boys to be future stalwarts of society. “I am doing this for your own good” she would often say above the wailing “You will become a decent member of society even if I have to thrash you to make it happen” Eventually she would be satisfied that her work was done and stop. As she helped the boy back on his feet, she would gently stroke his bottom and help him put on his shorts. “Make sure you behave now, I don’t want to be taking these down again” she would say but inside she knew and hoped it wouldn’t be too long before the boy was back over her knee.
With Robert however, no such opportunity arose; his behaviour was exemplary and he never seemed to get into trouble at all. Always polite she could find nothing to fault and no reason to summon him to her study, which is why she found the whole episode that evening so curious and perplexing. As she returned to her room to await Robert she dressed-down as she often did in the evening, removing her “school uniform”, slipping off her tights and changing into a shirt-dress. She knew she wanted to punish him, to feel his small body perched over her knees and his round bottom at her mercy but at the same time she considered his misbehaviour unusual and uncharacteristic. Positioning her straight-backed chair, which she used purely for the purpose of administering discipline, prominently in the centre of her study she awaited the chimes of the clock.
She could see Robert was scared and verging on tears as he entered the room. She wanted to comfort him but instead sternly ordered him to face her as she seated herself on the chair “Robert, your behaviour tonight was unacceptable on two counts and you must be punished twice. I am going to spank you for leaving the library without permission but I am also going to thrash you with a hairbrush for your deplorable conduct in the locker room – those lockers could have been damaged so easily. Now do you have anything to say for yourself?
The boy looked down to the floor and whispered “No Miss”
“Very well, come here” Following her order Robert walked towards her; as he came within reach, Margaret undid his belt and buttons and removed his grey shorts. “Come closer” she ordered as she slightly opening her legs to allow him to stand between them. Given their relative sizes and postures their faces were inches apart. Curtly she asked “I want to know why you misbehaved tonight and I will thrash you until I find out. Do you understand? Now are you going to explain your misbehaviour?”
Robert said nothing
“Very well Robert, I see that I have no alternative” and with that she purposefully lifted and rolled up his shirt and vest well above his waist. “Get over my knee” The boy did as he was told and soon she was admiring his beautiful bottom. Ophelia shifted to make sure she was comfortable and Robert perfectly positioned before starting the thrashing. She was determined that Robert should learn from this experience but how she enjoyed watching his bottom turn red and Robert wriggle under her blows. “Keep still” she ordered as she gripped him more firmly. Within a very short time the tears started, Robert was after all no different to any other boy his age in tolerating the pain, but as was her way she continued to spank him until he was sobbing uncontrollably.
At that point she stopped and helped him off her knee. Ensuring that he remained standing by her with his shirt held well above his waist, Ophelia waited until the tears subsided taking the time to admire her handiwork. How pleased she was; his bottom was on fire. “Well Robert, that part of the punishment was for leaving the library without permission. Now I shall ask you to get my hairbrush for slamming the locker doors shut but before I start you I am going to give you another chance to explain why you behaved so badly tonight”
Robert looked at her forlornly but again there was no response. She waited before continuing
“Very well Robert, we shall continue. Pass me the hairbrush that is sitting on my desk, you will receive 12 strokes”
At this he started to wail but Alice took no notice as he handed the hairbrush to her. This time Miss de Havilland positioned him differently bending him over one leg and making him lie almost length-ways over her thigh so that his head was just by her side and his bottom furthest away; in so doing she was ideally placed to swing the hairbrush with some force. “You will count each one and thank me”. Down came the hairbrush with Robert, despite his crying, just managing to count the stroke with a “Thank you Miss”. His bottom soon turned crimson but despite his wailing she didn’t hesitate in administering the punishment and giving him the allotted number.
“Robert, let that be a lesson to you” as she helped him off her knee and ordered him to stand in front of her. “Keep your shirt held up until I allow you to put on your shorts, you have been very severely punished and I hope there will be no repeat of your bad behaviour. Do you understand?”
“Yes Miss” Robert managed to say between sobs
“Very well, you can get dressed now” she said not unkindly as she reached over to pick up and hand him his shorts and underpants. As she did so, a piece of paper fell out of his pocket. “What is this?” She saw that it was a letter and she began to read it. As she did do, she kept glancing at Robert. The letter was from his mother saying she would not be able to visit him that weekend; she immediately understood why he had been so upset and behaved in the way he had. She looked at him with fresh eyes “Oh Robert, why didn’t you tell me”?
Between sobs Robert replied “I’m sorry Miss, I just thought you wouldn’t care”.
“Come here Robert” She said gently and pulled him towards her holding him very closely. He hadn’t yet pulled up his shorts and he felt the warmth of her body next to his own “You should have told me and, if you had, I would have understood why you behaved the way you did. You are a naughty boy for not telling me”
His eyes widened at the thought she might start to spank him again but she read his thoughts “Don’t be silly, you have been punished enough already, just remember I am here to care for you as well as to spank you when you misbehave” With that she gently stroked his bottom, holding him tight. At that moment, despite everything, Robert felt a closeness to her that transcended his pain, he felt comforted and cared for – he felt that Miss de Havilland really loved him