The train to school

I’m spending this weekend at Mrs Darling’s Academy for Young Ladies, which is a finishing school run by Lucy McLean of Northern Spanking. Getting there required a five-hour train journey, on which I set off yesterday with my suitcase and carefully packed school satchel.

I fantasised that instead of going on a weekend of kinky fun, I was a schoolgirl setting off for my first term at a new boarding school. My uniform, complete with a grey felt hat, identifies me immediately as a St. Hild’s girl. I can see a few other girls in the same uniform, but they are older and completely uninterested in me.

A boy sits across from me. “Going to St Hild’s?” he says. “I go to Bede’s down the road.” He offers me his hand in a ceremonial handshake.

Fast-forward a week, and the two schools, St Hild’s Academy and St. Bede’s School for Boys are all gathered in a chapel they share, boys and girls separated by the aisle. I see my acquaintance from the train, and wave at him. He looks shocked, but waves back.

What I don’t realise is that girls and boys aren’t meant to communicate in church. My Housemistress descends upon me like the wrath from Mount Olympus, and I can see my friend being berated by his housemaster, as well. “But I didn’t know,” I object. The housemistress takes it as defiance, and after chapel I’m in her study, my skirt off, my knickers down, the slipper printing red blotches on my bottom.

I get a reputation after this, as “that first year who’s friends with a boy”. Somehow that makes me cool. I don’t mind being cool, but it also brings a lot of unwanted attention from the teachers, my housemistress in particular.

At least I have a friend, even if I don’t talk to him that often.