The light’s flicked on abruptly. Not that many of them get much sleep between Sunday night and Monday morning. Worrying. Dreading.
Names are read from the clipboard: three of the fourteen girls from this dorm. They might have expected it; feared it. But only when the staff of the reformatory met for sherry before Sunday lunch would the discussion have taken place. Miscreants nominated, their fate determined. No right of appeal; no confirmation, even, of the precise offence that had led them to their fate, nor of the master who had condemned them.
“Hurry up!” comes the order. And they all knew the routine. Strip naked. Stay silent. Report to the gymnasium.
There are ten girls in total, that chill-but-bright spring morning. Called forward one at a time, as their peers were forced to watch. Tied, tight, over the vaulting horse. Each given the same sentence: eighteen strokes of the cane, administered as hard as could be.
And afterwards, on their return to the dorms: no time to cry, to seek consolation. Straight into the showers, with the other girls now awake and up. Weals inspected in silence by sympathetic onlookers; tears of the beaten and their best friends running away with the drizzle of the ice-cold shower.
Monday morning. The week now ready to begin.
You’re a mean man Monday mornings, Abel! x
*want*
Wow! What a Monday ritual! I want one! And I had similar idea on Saturday when I took sneak shot of our gym backdrop full of vaulting horsed and other interesting equipment. Wanted to send it to you but had trouble with internet. Such a coincidence that I did send it on the same day you posted about girls bring bitten in the gym! Sweet!¥
*back room not backdrop!
The Reformatory was a huge account for us and after hearing the Headmaster liked to rise early I decided to make a good impression by arriving just after dawn. After passing through the endless security I was told the Headmaster would be busy for another hour. I was directed to his office: “two rights, a left, a soft left, stay right, up the stairs at the end of the hall” but I got hopelessly lost in the Gothic castle.
I entered a room and was shocked to see nine stark naked girls. As I stood their slack jawed the door locks behind me!
“Are you the 10th girl?” a pretty and quite naked blonde asks. “When Ms. Parker gets here she will be very cross there are only 9.”
“No, I’m an attorney,” I explain.
“Well, you shouldn’t be prowling around here!” one of the girls snaps. “The Headmaster is going to be very cross when he finds you.”
“Yeah, one time the UPS girl ended up in the gymnasium, and he called the Magistrate and gave her a sentence for trespassing. She got a good look at the cane then!”
After some discussion it was decided that the other girls would cover for me. Nine girls naked girls quickly became ten, with each naughty bottom receiving 18 strokes of the cane.
The Headmaster had quite a good look at me in the gymnasium – all of me – and was shocked when I appeared in his office in my smart business suit. I thought he would be angry, but he complimented me for “taking your caning well” before having a jolly laugh about our “little jumble.”
“Your skirt must be a bit tight after what you went through,” he observed. “Would you be more comfortable in a school uniform?”
I stared at him, unsure of what to say.