Dean of Discipline: More Tales of Old-School Punishment by Bare Allen

Author:Bare, Allen [Bare, Allen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: CF Publications
Published: 2014-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

Of course I was right when I predicted that Kate and Connie wouldn't fail to show up to take their punishment. There was, after all, little reason for two mature and sensible women to have spent a whole Saturday afternoon stuffing the rooms of my house with newspapers, removing all the light bulbs, and leaving furniture in places where I was bound to stumble over it in the dark, unless they expected and indeed desired to be soundly chastised for their misbehavior. And if all of that hadn't been enough, there were the water balloons, and the newly bought dishes I had broken when I tripped. After suppressing the water-balloon insurrection with a sound spanking on bare (and in Kate's case, damp) bottoms, and making them clean the place up, I had sent them home to change into drier and more presentable clothes while I went for beer and take-out food. I knew they would return, and not just for the moo-shi pork and orange-flavor chicken, either.

Shortly after I returned, they both appeared, demurely dressed as befitted young two ladies who knew they were still in deep trouble. Connie had on stockings and high heels, a wool skirt, and a pink blouse with a Peter Pan collar, while Kate wore knee socks and a white blouse under a blue plaid jumper that made her look like a grown-up version of the parochial schoolgirl she had been not too many years ago. A pair of Reeboks completed this youthful outfit, which gained in charm from the considerable height of its wearer-Kate was a good ten inches taller than Connie.

The food was good, and the beer hit the spot, but socially the meal was a rather subdued affair. My two companions were in a far from giddy mood, clearly dreading what was to come even though they had both wanted it and done everything they could to bring it on. I couldn't get much conversation out of either one. But they were hungry enough to eat heartily, and I was starving, myself. It was well after ten.

"All right, ladies" I said, when all the plates were clean and there was nothing left in the containers, "time for our just desserts."

Connie poked out her lower lip rebelliously, but restrained herself from saying anything. I directed the miscreants to follow me into the living room, where a fire was burning quietly in the fireplace. They eyed my bench nervously, clearly expecting a session with the paddle. But they were in for a surprise. I told them to sit on the sofa, and went upstairs. In my bedroom closet I found the slender package Frances Potter had given me. Fortunately, it had escaped the notice of my two intruders that afternoon. I unwrapped the cane, finding a thin, flexible, crook-handled model exactly like the one Frances and I had used to punish Bronwen. My return to the living room, carrying this implement of retribution, had a dramatic effect. Kate went pale, and Connie gasped, then protested: "Jim, no! You can't! Not with that!"

I smiled.

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