His Cane, His Gown, His Mortarboard

As I mentioned last week, our friend Martha and I were summoned in front of the Housemaster for a uniform inspection, and to discuss the various sins that had been reported by other teachers.

We admitted to having been seen drunk and disorderly at a ball the previous term. Martha was sentenced to four strokes for this; I was a prefect, and thus got six.

Added to these were the strokes for our uniform infractions: I had a wrong hair grip (a genuine mistake: I’m not yet used to having my hair at a length that requires grips, so I didn’t think twice about picking up a rather ornate, inappropriate clasp), and got one stroke for that. Martha had some sort of complicated issues with her shirt – lack of button, messed up collar, things like that – and her socks were not pulled up properly. She got two additional strokes.

While Martha bent over for her caning, bravely taking the first turn, I caught myself on a completely inappropriate thought. You would imagine that I would be full of compassion for my friend. Right?

Or at least that, with seven strokes to come, I would focus on the painful caning I was about to get.


Well, no. In fact, all I could do was look at Abel – dressed splendidly in a suit, an academic gown and a brand new, never-before-worn mortarboard – and think: “Oooh boy, that Housemaster is so hot. He’s hot, hot, hot. Will you look at that. Mrrr-eow.”

I might have day-dreamed through Martha’s entire caning like that.

Obviously, my own punishment, which followed in due course, woke me right up: there’s nothing that makes you remember your priorities like seven slashes of the cane over your white cotton knickers.* Still, I was quite surprised to have become so distracted.

Oh, well. If spanking play brought no surprises any more, what would be the point of following the same familiar tracks?

* Except maybe those same strokes delivered on the bare, but the knickers were hitched right up anyway, so I don’t know about that.

6 thoughts on “His Cane, His Gown, His Mortarboard

  • 26 August, 2007 at 1:35 pm

    I had to look up ‘mortarboard’, and of course, I should have known. Does that “hot hot hot Housemaster” of yours ever lose that silly thing on his head? Now that would be funny! Surely he would smile – laugh even – if it came hurtling down amongst all that swinging…..Or would it be another two for not taking matters seriously if you burst out laughing? Apologies for my cheekiness. Lucky that virtual classroom of yours is closed for the summer, huh? It is closed for the summer? Right?

  • 26 August, 2007 at 5:29 pm

    This posting really made me smile. I particularly like that “Mrrr-eow”. You two have such a way with words! :)

  • 26 August, 2007 at 9:23 pm

    I loved this post, love any school scene posts actually… love anything to do with school scenes in fact! I think 4 and 6 stokes respectively for drunk and disorderly was very lenient, but made up for with the extras… did Martha get dressed in the dark?!

    My own wonderful (and very Mrr-eow-worthy) school master completely failed to keep his mortar board on when caning me for uniform infractions. I have to admit it wasn’t really him but have a feeling Abel would look good in his :)

    I got very day dreamy once when summoned to lunch (to discuss my schoolwork – or lack of…) with my tutor only to find him very smartly dressed indeed (he’d been in t-shirt and shorts only a few minutes before)and my mind was more on him than the questions he kept firing at me and the lack of table etiqette he kept pulling me up on… I expect you can guess at the consequences of my day dreaming, but it was worth every stroke, not that I got to keep my white cotton knickers on…. happy days! :)

  • 27 August, 2007 at 4:33 am

    I came upon this blog thinking it might be discussing domestic discipline, specifically husband dominated discipline which has been part of my marriage from almost the star. This seems to be more about sex-related only discipline.
    Oh well, carry on!

  • 28 August, 2007 at 8:27 am

    I love a schoolmaster in full regalia. Especially when he then makes me take off my clothes. The horrible humiliation is exquisite!

  • 30 August, 2007 at 1:34 pm

    Mmmm, nice comments :-) I’m now wondering whether I could keep the mortarboard on whilst administering strokes – on this occasion, I took it off on the basis that a frisbee-like performance in mid-whack might cause girls to laugh during their punishments!

    Rose – anything concerning domestic discipline tends to end up on The Punishment Book blog, which you might find of interest.


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