Debs Disgrace

by nixdown



Chapter 1 - Banished from the Assembly Hall.

The doors of the Assembly Hall swung closed behind Deborah Morton with a dull thud. The fifth form schoolgal hurried down the corridor in the direction of the Headmistress's study. Deborah knew, full well, that it was not Ms. Lawton's practice to proceed with assembly until the last sound of a banished Gal's footstep, on the polished wooden floor, had faded behind her.
It had been an exciting week for Deborah. During Monday's assembly she had proudly mounted the steps of the stage to receive the senior Gals hard court tennis trophy, the first Gal from the Remove ever to win the competition. Two days later she was further applauded by her school chums for being invited to go to London to play the violin with a specially selected youth orchestra.
However, on Friday, when the attention of the assembled school once again focused on Deborah Morton the circumstances were far less auspicious. Ordered out of assembly for having her tie loosened and her top button unfastened, she was forced to exit the hall flushed and ashamed.
As she headed towards the staircase that led up to the Headmistress's study she was ruefully acknowledged that she had nobody to blame but herself. During the previous day's assembly Ms. Lawton had delivered a thunderous lecture on the declining standards in the turn-out of her pupils and everybody in the school was keenly aware of the Headmistress's obsession with the appearance of her Gals. Two full pages of the regulations of school were dedicated to the manner in which a Woody Gal was expected to wear her school uniform. Nonetheless, the heavy-handed manner with which she had been dispatched made her seethe with indignation as she stalked through the corridors of the school.

"YOU GAL! YES YOU, DEBORAH MORTON, STAND UP GAL!" the Head had roared from the stage, "ON YOUR FEET GAL THIS INSTANT!"
With a look of total surprise on her face Deborah Morton rose to her feet.
"YOUR TIE IS UNDONE!" The Headmistress blisteringly accused, her finger jabbing the air in the direction of the nonplussed schoolgal.
Deborah had felt herself redden as the whole school had looked to the back of the hall where she was seated amongst her classmates. Her hand had involuntarily gone to her neck.
"YESTERDAY I WARNED THIS ASSEMBLY THAT I WOULD TAKE A DIM VIEW OF ANY FURTHER INFRINGEMENTS OF THE SCHOOL RULES REGARDING UNIFORM," the Head yelled at the top of her voice.. "NEVERTHELESS YOU FLAGRANTLY CHOSE TO IGNORE MY WARNING AND TURN UP FOR ASSEMBLY IN THIS MOST UNRULY STATE. I THINK YOU HAD BETTER GO AND WAIT OUTSIDE MY STUDY."
When Deborah hesitated momentarily the Headmistress once again raised her voice angrily. "NOW GAL! UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO HAVE YOU REMOVED!" she barked from the stage.
Deborah was forced to struggle passed her seated classmates, then walk through the hall with every eye in the school fixed upon her.

When Deborah reached the landing outside the door to the Headmistress's study, Matron spotted her through the open doorway of the adjoining office.
"A little early aren't you Morton?," Katie Beck, the young school matron, called out sarcastically from her office. "Letting that motor mouth run away with itself again, I'll be bound."
Only three years ago Matron had still been a Woody Gal herself, and a very bad Gal at that, yet she never showed the slightest degree of sympathy to any Gal unfortunate enough to find herself up on the landing outside Ms. Lawton's study, and took every opportunity to make them feel uncomfortable.
Deborah flushed angrilly, "I wasn't gabbing actually, for your information," she snapped back. "If you must know you my bally tie wasn't done up properly and she got very shirty, and chucked me out."
"Well that's jolly tough luck," Katie Beck sneered, "Only this morning she told me she intended to lick the next Gal she caught looking shabby."
Deborah stared at Matron incredulously. "Oh come on she wouldn't. She couldn't possibly. I mean not just for having my tie undone."
On her lonely walk through the corridors the Gal had bitterly resigned herself to the fact she was going to have to endure a dose of tongue pie from the Headmistress. When she was shirty, the Beak could be very sharp. From experience Deborah knew that Ms. Lawton spitting a mouthful of poisoned barbs at her would be an uncomfortable and unpleasant experience, but it hadn't crossed her mind that the Headmistress would go any further.
"Oh yes Deborah, I think she could, and hot ones too I'll be bound," Matron retorted. "Now why don't you just face the wall and ruminate on that!"
After glaring at Katie, Deborah Morton, turned slowly to face the wall. Almost bursting with indignation she raised her arms and clasped her hands together on top of her short blond hair. She leaned forward until the tip of her nose was touching the wood panelling, and the toes of her shoes rested against the skirting board. Normally a visit to the Beak was nerve wracking. A Gals tummy would fill with butterflies, her legs cover with goose-bumps, but this morning Deborah Morton was so overcome with rage that she had no time to be nervous.
"This is utterly preposterous," thought Deborah hotly. "She's not going to whop me," she told herself firmly, "she wouldn't bloody dare." After all she was Deborah Morton, the golden Gal of the school. She was an academic wunderkind, she represented the County at tennis and hockey, and she was a prodigious violinist. Admittedly in the past she had shared with her best chum Nicola Jane Nixon a reputation amongst the enfant terribles of the Woody Gals, earning herself the nickname of Mephisto, and a ranking on the Big BUTT Hall of Shame. When earlier in the year Deborah had the misfortune to find herself at the hot end of the Beaks cane she had sworn it would be for the last time.

No sooner had Katie Beck departed than the Gal from the Remove stuck her tongue out and promptly took her hands off her head and turned away from the wall. Deborah had to wait a full twenty minutes before she heard the click of the Headmistress's heels in the stairwell. When Ms. Lawton arrived Deborah was casually leaning back against the wall, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her blazer. Her lips were pursed in a defiant pout; a dark frown creased her brow.
While she was waiting the fifth form schoolgals sense of acute indignation had increased considerably. The public berration had been embarrassing. She was damned if she was going to let the Headmistress treat her like an insignificant grubby.
"How could the Headmistress have been so cruel?" Deborah had mused angrily. "After all I've done for the school recently. How could she do this to me?" Sent from the assembly hall in disgrace like some silly junior was humiliating. Her resentment increased as she remembered the discomfort she had felt as she had walked through the crowded hall trying hard to maintain an appearance of composed indifference.

"Why aren't you facing the wall Gal?" the Headmistress barked as soon as she appeared at the top of the stairwell.
Deborah glared at the Headmistress darkly. Slowly she took her hands from the pockets of her blazer and let them fall to her sides. She moved away from the wall and pulled her shoulders back.
"I'm sorry ma'am," the Gal mumbled, but there was not a sign of apology on her sullen face.
"I can't tell you how disappointed I am Deborah. I expect better of you," Ms. Lawton said sharply, "and wipe that ugly pout off your face."
Deborah seethed inwardly. It was obvious that the Headmistress was still very cross but there was no need to be so abrupt.
She glared back at the woman. "It was a silly mistake ma'am and I'm sorry," she said recalcitrantly.
The Headmistress continued to glower at Deborah Morton. The Gal's bravado began to wilt a little.
"May I go now?" she said hopefully.
"You most certainly cannot go, Deborah!" the Headmistress snapped, "follow me immediatley."
Reluctantly Deborah Morton followed Ms. Lawton into her study.

Deborah Morton stood before the Headmistress, her arms crossed over her chest, her body resting into an insolent slouch. She was determined to show the Beak that she didn't think she'd done anything wrong.
The Headmistresses face was a picture of exasperation. She took the Gal by the shoulders.
"Stop slouching," she snapped, "stand up straight."
Deborah shrugged herself free of the Headmistress, and slowly stood to attention.
"I must re-iterate my disappointment in your behavior Deborah," the Head began coldly, "I do not issue orders for them to be simply ignored. Perhaps you think that rules are for the other Gals and you are exempt from them? Is that the case Deborah?"
"No ma'am of course not."
"Yet you chose to flagrantly ignore my instructions."
"It was just a silly mistake, I tell you. I really don't understand what all the fuss is about," Deborah said hotly. Never in her young puff had she heard such rot.
"Yes it was silly Morton. Very silly indeed," the Head responded slowly, "and your attitude is even sillier. You will receive six strokes of the cane..."
"For having my tie undone?" Deborah interjected contemptuously.
"With your knickers removed..."
"Don't be bloody ridiculous..." the fifth former couldn't help herself. It was unthinkable. A bare bender for breaking such a stupid rule. Deborah's mind was racing. She wasn't having this.
"If you interrupt me again young lady I'll..."
"You'll what? Beat me?" Deborah snapped back petulantly.
The next thing Deborah Morton knew she was being spun around and pinned down, chest forward, across the top of the desk.
The Headmistress thumped her hand down on the seat of Deborah's skirt. The Gal from the Remove struggled and squirmed as Ms. Lawton's hand walloped her once, twice, then a third time. Next, as suddenly as she was pinned down, she was roughly yanked up from the desk and shoved her in the back.
"Fetch the chair and bend over," the Headmistress snapped.
Red faced and fuming with embarrassment Deborah hurried forward, picked up the familiar punishment chair and placed it in the middle of the room. Sulkily she hung her jacket over the back of the chair and then hung herself over the jacket.
She had hardly grasped the wrung of the chair before she felt her skirt dragged back and her knickers turned inside out. Before she could prepare herself she heard a violent hiss and a streak of fire etched itself from one side of her backside to the other. She let out a low whistle and blinked in pain. The speed with which the second and third strokes exploded on her ass made her giddy. With white knuckled determination she hung onto the crossbar. She could smell the sourness of her breath as she buried her face in the chair seat. WHOOSH! the fourth stroke sliced across her naked flesh, she blinked hard and gritted her teeth. She wouldn't yell she told herself, let the bitch lay it on as thick as she liked. The fifth stroke was equally searing. Deborah tensed herself for the last stroke.
Ms. Lawton tapped the cane down on Deborah's bottom. Then she raised her arm up high in the air and brought the cane down fast. The long wicked stick arced through the air at terrific speed and landed diagonally across the five scarlet weal's. Deborah's hips swayed and her breath burst from her in an impassioned pant. With astonishing resilience she pushed herself up from the chair, reached down and tugged her up her knickers. She smoothed down her skirt, put on her blazer and turned to face the Headmistress. She stared defiantly at the Beak, her lip curled contemptuously. If theBeak thought she'd see her crack she had another think coming.
Deborah stepped up to the desk. She handed her Punishment Record Book to the Headmistress, eyes burning with rage.
"There is no room for favoritism in this school," the Head told her sharply, "I gave ample warning of the consequences of not conforming to the regulations so you only have yourself to blame. I find your arrogance a little distasteful, I don't care for it in the least bit." She completed the entry in the book and handed it to Deborah, as the Gal reached to take it the woman behind the desk held onto the book. "I am not fond of disobedience Morton so be warned if you step out of line you will be treated the same as any other Gal in the school and if that means I have to thrash you again I will and I don't care how many times I thrash you either. I run this school and you would do well to remember that."
For a moment their eyes met, Deborah's face was flushed with bitterness, the Headmistress servere. Ms. Lawton released the book and Deborah spun on her heel and, without apology, left the office with as much dignity as she could muster.

Chapter 2 - A Time to Smolder.

By mid-morning break time it was all over the school and Deborah found that far from being the schools great heroine she was reduced to a figure of fun.
"Ha,Ha,Ha! Hee,Hee,Hee! Guess who got bent over the old Gals knee!" cheeky young juniors sang before scampering away giggling.
Deborah's usually sunny countenance had taken on a sullen pallor. When a paper missile slapped against the seat of her skirt Deborah spun around and seeing a grubby running off she gave chase. Catching the youngster she delivered a ringing cuff to the Gal's ear. She strode off to the unsuppressed laughter of the onlookers. She was furious and she knew she had to blame. Doubtless Katie Beck had been listening at the door and had relished the opportunity to add to the Gals discomfort by maliciously spreading the word that Deborah Morton, Gal from the Remove, had had her bottom smacked.
"We're going to show that bitch," she informed Nicola Jane, "we're going to really make her sit up and take notice."
Nicola Jane always got nervous when Deborah talked in the plural. She smelt trouble.
"Come on Debs, it's just a storm in a teacup. It'll all be forgotten in no time at all," she said cheerily. "After all it was only a bloody whopping."
"I don't care," Deborah said darkly, "we're going to fix her."
"Don't be a chump Debs, it'll only end in tears. Just forget it."
"You losing your nerve ?" Deborah snapped, "You going soft on me?"
"No, of course not," Nicola Jane looked hurt. "But the Beak's going to get pretty waxy if you start rattling her cage."
"So you won't help me then?"
Nicola Jane looked at her friend helplessly. "Well, I'd rather not while she's in a spin, at least not in these drawers."
"You bloody chicken," Deborah snarled, "I might have known I couldn't rely on you."
Nicola Jane stared at her chum, her eyes welled up with tears, "That's a horrible thing to say," she said. "And you know it's not true."
Deborah shook her head scornfully and pushed passed her friend. "I'll just take care of it myself."
Nicola Jane's face was a picture of bewilderment. How could Deborah be so spiteful she wondered. To accuse her of being chicken. How many times had it been Nicola Jane Nixon who had caught it hot for Deborah instigated indiscretions? Never once complaining, stoically bending forward and taking vicious lickings to protect her pal. Miserably Nicola Jane made her way to class, for the first time during their long friendship Nicola Jane felt betrayed.

It was two full days before Deborah apologized and during their tearful reunion Deborah unveiled her plan.
"Please Debs don't do it," Nicola Jane begged her. "You'll catch hell if you're caught."
Deborah grinned, "I won't get caught, I've got it all worked out."
Nicola Jane shook her head, "It's too dangerous, but if you've made up your mind at least let me come along and run doggo for you."
"Don't be wet Rosie," Deborah said kindly, "I've made up my mind and that's that."
Nicola Jane pouted.
Deborah hugged her, "Wish me luck."

Chapter 3 - A Time to Confess.

Ms. Lawton's entrance to the assembly hall was quite formidable. The doors crashed closed behind her and she mounted the steps to the stage two at a time. No sooner had the assembled Gals begun to rise to their feet than they were curtly commanded to sit down. The Headmistress banged her hand down on the table.
"I want to know who was responsible for the despicable activities in the science block last night," she roared, "I don't care how long it takes but I will find out. Until the culprit comes forward all privileges and recreational activities are canceled for the whole school."
Her face was red with rage and she was visibly shaking as she faced the school.
>From towards the back of the hall a chair scraped on the wooden floor and the sound of footsteps caused every head in the hall to turn.
Calmly Deborah approached the stage. While the schoolgals gaped Deborah faced the Headmistress.
"I'm responsible ma'am," she said in a clear voice.
Ms. Lawton's chin dropped, she simply stared. Her face went from a ruddy flush to a pale haunted color. She was visibly shaken.
"You Deborah?" she asked incredulously.
Deborah nodded, "Yes ma'am" she said firmly.
The Headmistress breathed heavily, "Go and wait outside my study. I would like to proceed with assembly," she said quietly.

Standing outside the Headmistress's study Deborah complimented herself on her composure. When her plan had gone awry she had panicked badly and had sneaked back to bed in a cold sweat. She had hardly been able to sleep, her heart had pounded and her stomach had churned billiously, but as the lonely night had passed she had steadied her nerves and prepared herself to face the inevitable music.


Chapter 4 - Up before the Beak.

Ms. Lawton leaned back in her wing backed chair and stared thoughtfully at the Gal standing before her. Deborah had paid particular attention to her preparations that morning. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, her shoes shone, her face was scrubbed and gleaming, and her mane of blonde hair was brushed back from her face and gathered into a tidy pony tail. Standing smartly to attention, in the centre of the thick pile carpet, Deborah Morton looked a vision of angelic youthful innocence. Ms. Lawton wasn't fooled for a moment.
"It is difficult to know where to begin Morton," she said slowly. "There must be some explanation for an act of such indescribable vandalism."
Deborah returned the Headmistress's gimlet glare unflinchingly. "It was a prank ma'am."
"A prank Morton? You leave a terrified horse in the Science lab, expensive equipment has been damaged, the laboratory will be a health hazard for days, and you call it a prank?"
"I didn't mean to scare the horse ma'am."
"You take a horse into strange surroundings and you don't think that's cruel?"
"I brought it oats and hay ma'am."
The Headmistress let out a disgusted sigh. She suddenly stood up and leant forward across the desk.
"IT WAS THE MOST STUPID, CRUEL AND THOUGHTLESS ACT I HAVE EVER HEARD OF!" she bellowed. "I OUGHT TO RUN YOU OUT OF THIS SCHOOL THIS VERY MINUTE!"
Deborah didn't flinch, "I'm sorry I scared the horse and I'm sorry about the damage, but it was still a prank...ma'am," she said firmly.
The Headmistress slammed her hand on the desk. "I'M SURE YOU'RE SORRY NOW BUT NOT HALF AS SORRY AS YOU'RE GOING TO BE!" Unblinkingly Deborah continued to stare steadily back at Ms. Lawton. Their eyes held for a short moment, the Headmistress's filled with anger, Deborah's non-committal.
Finally the Headmistress sat down. Deborah's icy calm was beginning to disconcert her.
Ms. Lawton leant forward in her seat, placed her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on her the back of her hands. She breathed deeply. She waited for her fury to subside.
"This is a very difficult situation Morton, you have caused damage to school property, incapacitated a laboratory so badly the curriculum has been interrupted, you have caused untold harm to a defenseless horse, not to mention having the whole school up halfway through the night. Do you understand the seriousness of the trouble you're in?"
Deborah nodded, "Yes ma'am," she said firmly, "I know that it all looks bad but it was a prank and it all went frightfully wrong."

Getting the horse out of the stables had proved more difficult than expected. It had neighed and whinnied so loudly that Debs had almost abandoned the operation at its inception. The Gal had managed to pacify the animal with kind words and sugar treats and had eventually managed to get the mufflers onto its hooves.
Crossing the quadrangle had been nerve-racking, there were still lights in the windows of the floors of the main building occupied by the teachers and sixth formers. Deborah had gently sweet talked the mare across the grass, terrified that any second an innocent glance would expose her. Her luck held and she reached the dark safety of the entrance to the science lab. She opened the door and led the horse into the laboratory. She passed through the entrance lobby and went into the chemistry room. Gently she stroked the animal and whispered sweet nothings. She fed it sugar and then laid out some hay at the back of the room and hung a feeding bag around its neck.
She kissed the horse gently. "Be quiet now," she pleaded, "be a good horsy and go to sleep."
The horse appeared to be content to munch on its food. Deborah patted her again and slowly moved away. She backed out of the door, her heart thumping. Suddenly there was an almighty crash of breaking glass and the horse let out an ear shattering bray. Deborah's heart missed a beat, she rushed back into the room, the horse neighed again and then promptly dropped its load on the floor. Deborah stared incredulously. She tried to calm the horse's distress but it had worked itself into a frenzy. She had shattered the glass in the front of a cabinet and kicked several stools across the room, making them good for tinder wood.
Deborah's mind was racing. She had to think of something, the cacophony of braying and breaking was doubtless audible clear across the quad. The smell of equine defecation was becoming sickening. Deborah snatched up a rag from a sink and blindfolded the horse. Slowly the distressed animal responded to the hapless Gals desperate entreaties. Shaking its head twice and blowing through its nostrils it let out a disgruntled snort and buried its face in the feed bag.
Deborah surveyed the damage and momentarily hung her head.
"Jeepers," she mumbled to herself, "I've really torn it now."
She crossed to the window and peeped out. "Crikey" she gasped. Bustling across the quadrangle was Ms. MacAllister, closely followed by Ms. Hodge, the Deputy Headmistress. Frantically Deborah raced towards the door. If she was lucky she could escape into the shadows before the two mistresses reached the building. As she rushed out she caught sight of the thick leather tawse that hung from a hook beside the blackboard. The mere sight of the dreaded strap gave her supernatural powers and she bounded through the lobby and out into the darkness just moments before the mistresses arrived on site.
Deborah stood panting in the shadows. She cautiously peered around the corner of the laboratory, she knew she had to make a break for it. In a few moments the mistresses would be waking up the school and pursuing the culprit. Deborah shivered, then plucking up her courage she bolted across to the main building and slipped through the window that she had left ajar.
She'd only just made it back to the study that she shared with Nicola Jane before lights went on all over the school. Hurriedly she changed into her pajamas and slid under the covers. When the light in the room snapped on Deborah feigned sleep, for a second Ms. MacAllister stood in the doorway, the fearsome strap in hand. She shut off the light and Deborah breathed a sigh of relief.
It was a fair bet that she was in deep trouble in the coming morning but it was an equally good bet that if Ms. MacAllister had caught her then the mistress would have felt no compunction about taking that strap to Deborah's backside before escorting the Gal up in front of the Headmistress.

The Headmistress pressed a buzzer on the side of her desk and, shortly Matron entered the office. Ms. Lawton instructed the young matron to bring in Deborah's file.
"I'm going to call your parents and discuss this matter with them," she told the errant schoolgal, "go and stand in the corridor, face the wall with your hands on your head. I want toes and nose touching the wall."
Deborah had plenty of time to ruminate on her fate as she stood with her nose pressed to the wall and her arms raised uncomfortably above her head. Her arms and neck ached but she dared not move as the Headmistress had positioned her in direct view of her desk. Deborah couldn't hear the conversation Ms. Lawton was conducting on the telephone but it seemed to go on interminably. Deborah was certain that her parents would not be enjoying Ms. Lawton's grim account of recent events.
"MORTON, GET IN HERE!"
Deborah rubbed her aching arms as she walked into the office. She faced the Headmistress as calmly as she could. Beneath her crisp white blouse her heart was beating steadily faster.
"It gives me no pleasure to expel a Gal from this school. It makes me feel like I have failed in my duties. However it is an option that from time to time I feel compelled to exercise."
The Headmistress spoke slowly, letting each word to sink in. Deborah struggled to keep her expression blank. SACKED! Her heart thudded, CHUCKED OUT IN DISGRACE! For the first time she felt her nerve going. It was years since a Gal had been sacked. She desperately tried to disguise her panic.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you how disappointed, embarrassed and angry your parents are over this affair. Sending you down would be perfectly warranted following such a cruel and thoughtless performance."
She glared at the wretched schoolgal.
"However," she said finally, " I know that you are not a malicious child by nature and that this is a more complex matter than just a prank. I discussed with your father a number of possibilities, including sending you down. He has left the decision up to me. Before I decide I would like you to explain to me what provoked this outrage. Would I be right in assuming that this was instigated by your being caned last week?"
Deborah nodded slowly.
"I didn't think it was fair ma'am," she said carefully.
"Pray tell me why not Morton, you know the rules and you were present in assembly when I warned the school that I would not tolerate the decline in appearance that had become very apparent of late. You chose to ignore the warning so I punished you, just as I would have any other Gal. It was an open and closed matter."
"I didn't exactly ignore your warning ma'am, it was an oversight."
"Was your top button fastened Morton?"
"No ma'am."
"Was your tie dangling?"
"Not exactly ma'am."
"Was it or not?" the Head snapped sharply.
"It was a little down ma'am, not dangling."
The Headmistress shook her head, "The rules are clear Morton. A Gals blouse collar must be fastened and the knot of her tie must cover the top button at all times. Was your appearance on the day in question in conformance with this regulation?"
"I suppose not ma'am."
"Yes or no will suffice, Morton!" Ms. Lawton said irritably. "Just answer the question!"
"No ma'am."
"Thank you, Morton." The Headmistress leaned back in the chair. "You are not the first Gal I have caned in recent weeks for the same offense, it vexes me why you should think I should have offered you preferential treatment."
"I'm not saying that ma'am, but six of the best for having my tie undone seemed a bit stiff."
"You talked yourself into six of the best Morton, you chose to act in a most belligerent manner. I am not much fond of belligerence. You were only partly caned for your uniform abuse, the severity of your punishment was due to your gross disobedience."
Deborah was determined to make her case. "I may have deserved to be caned but you shouldn't have spanked me like some Little Brat. It simply wasn't fair."
The Headmistress smiled for the first time. "Be honest Morton, this is the crux of the matter isn't it. All this trouble for a couple of slaps on your bottom. If you'd been simply caned you might have been upset but none of this would have happened."
Deborah pouted sullenly.
Ms. Lawton stared thoughtfully at the Gal for a full minute.
Finally she nodded her head sagely. "So Deborah Morton of the fifth form thinks that she is too important for such petty little punishments. She would prefer a gala performance I suppose. Something to show what a mature young lady she is. Well you've got it Morton. I will not expel you on this occasion but I will honor you with the grand production you seem to desire."
She smiled sweetly.
"During callover this evening you will receive twelve strokes of the senior cane in front of the assembled school."
It was worse than Deborah had expected. She had long resigned herself to the likelihood of a Public Flogging, but the maximum that anybody had ever received was nine strokes. Momentarily Deborah's blank expression broke and to the Headmistress's great surprise an enigmatic smile flickered across her lips.

Chapter 5 - The Waiting game (part one).

Deborah cleaned and scrubbed, waxed and polished the science laboratory until it gleamed. Her arms ached from her exertions. Her knees were sore from kneeling on the hard wood floor. Sitting up at the front desk was the Deputy Head Prefect, cramming for the upcoming end of term exams. Chrissie Cobb was not happy to have to leave the relative comfort of her study to oversee Deborah's cleaning activities and had made it very clear to the errant schoolgal that she would feel no compunction, whatsoever, about taking her whippy ashplant to Deborah's bumbags should the opportunity present itself.
Deborah was served a solitary lunch in the punishment room at the back of the school, overseen by Angela Evans. Even the serene Angela was not best pleased to spend her lunch hour in the austere room at the back of the school. The sight of so many canes and slippers and hairbrushes hanging ominously from hooks along the wall were unsettling and brought back unpleasant memories for both Gals. After eating her lunch Deborah was once again positioned hands on head, face to the wall, while they waited for the bell to ring to summons the school back to class.
When the bell rang Deborah was taken to an empty classroom and set to work on her books for the duration of afternoon school. It was a long and lonely day, communications were limited to curt instructions and she concentrated on her tasks with silent obedience.
For the most part, however, Deborah remained in remarkably good spirits. She was determined to tough out her punishment, suffer in heroic silence, eradicate her earlier ignominy and thus return herself to her rightful position, as, La Debs, the most admired Gal in the school.

Chapter 6 - An Warm Aperitif.

By the time that Deborah Morton was escorted back to Ms. Lawton's study the Headmistress of Woody's was fully determined to teach the willful fifth former the lesson of her young life. As Deborah crossed the room towards her desk Ms. Lawton rose from her seat and came to intercept her. Wordlessly she gripped the Gal by the elbow and led her into the adjoining room. She quickly walked Deborah across to a sofa, sat down and without undue ceremony grabbed the Gals left wrist and pulled her face downwards across her lap. Ms. Lawton noted with some pleasure that Deborah tried to pull back as she was turned down over her knee and couldn't help noticing the ghastly set of the Gal's mouth as she tumbled forward.

The Headmistress slapped the back of the Gals' legs, "Full drape please Deborah and lets have your bottom up so I can see it."
Deborah shuffled miserably across the Headmistress's lap so that her weight was fully supported. The Gal from the Remove stretched her legs straight in one direction and her arms in the other. Over her shoulder she watched her skirt being turned back and then she was forced to raise her hips slightly to allow her knickers to be yanked downwards. Deborah's cheeks and eyes burned in helpless indignation. The first slap made her blink. She hung her head and gritted her teeth.
The Headmistress warmed to her work. She worked up and down Deborah's buttocks, slapping first one cheek and then the other. There was no doubt that Deborah was soon feeling the heat, as her bottom reddened it began to wriggle and twitch. From her upside down position Ms. Lawton could hear the fifth former's breath coming out in hisses and pants. The tips of Deborah's pointed shoes began to beat a short tattoo on the carpet and when one particularly resounding slap made contact the Gals back arched and she threw a beseeching look over her shoulder.
It was a long and juicy spanking, delivered by a prolific and practiced spanker. It only came to an end when the Headmistress's hand was stinging to much to continue. She took the hapless schoolgal by the shoulder pulled her back until she was kneeling at her side.
The Headmistress stood up, smoothed her skirt and blew on her hand. "Stand up Gal and rearrange your clothing you look ridiculous down there."
For a moment she thought that Deborah would burst into tears. The great equalizer, the Headmistress mused, a good old fashioned over the knee spanking.
Somehow Deborah managed to get to her feet and yank up her knickers with a modicum of dignity. She was wide eyed and panting as she straightened her skirt, her hands momentarily clasping at her chastened orbs.
The Headmistress touched her on the shoulder, "I'm going to leave you for a few minutes to gather your thoughts Deborah, then I'm afraid I must ask you to go with Matron for some of the final preparations."

Chapter 7 - The waiting game (part 2)

Left alone Deborah Morton shoved her hands inside her knickers and rubbed furiously at the heat. The spanking had taken her by surprise. Although it had lasted far longer than any spanking she had ever received before and had caused significant discomfort her pride had been hurt the most. She hadn't been spanked since she was a Little Brat. Golly, if anybody ever found out that she, Deborah Morton, had been treated with such high handed disdain she would be japed mercillessly. She would die of shame. She shook her head, she wouldn't tell a soul and she was sure Ms. Lawton wouldn't either. Her mind was racing again, it was little more than an hour to callover and her bottom was already on fire. She stomped up and down, tried to dance away the heat. She had to get a hold on herself, she couldn't breakdown now.

Shortly, she found herself escorted to the Assembly Hall where she was made to stand on the stage in front a vaulting horse that had been brought from the gymnasium. Katie Beck was adjusting the horse so that the top lined up with Deborah's waist.
"Bend over Deborah, reach down to the bottom rail."
"B...b...bend over?" Deborah gasped in disbelief, "B...b...but callover ain't for thirty minutes, don't you know."
Katie giggled, "Don't be such a muff, I just want to test the height. Now bend over before I take my slipper to your backside."
Deborah laughed half heartedly then meekly bent over until she could reach the rail.
"Comfortable?"
Deborah grunted and felt herself helped up.
Matron grinned wickedly, she adjusted the height of the horse by three inches.
"Oh Matron that's not fair," Deborah wailed plaintively. She knew that the extra height would leave her totally helpless. "Please lower it."
"I'm sorry Debs, I don't make the rules, and I'm not about to disobey them," Matron giggled. "At least not in these skimpy knickers."

Chapter 8 - Fit for a Princess.

When Deborah returned to Ms. Lawton's study she was met by a Headmistress in ample good humor. Delivering such a well deserved spanking had done much to satisfy her ire.

Standing neatly to attention before her, Deborah Morton was dressed in a clean, starched white blouse, fresh from the laundry. Her black and red striped tie was neatly knotted at the neck and the tails tucked into the waistband of white cotton gym shorts that Matron had selected for her. When she had stepped into the shorts Deborah had been forced to wriggle and squirm to get them up over her hips. A size too small for comfort, and as she had been instructed to leave her navy blue knickers in her locker, they chaffed the raw, well spanked, flesh they covered. Her ankle socks were turned over and her pointy toed black flat heeled shoes shone admirably. She had brushed her hair with fifty strokes before sliding it back under a red hair band. Her scrubbed face had no trace of even the meager amount of make-up that senior Woody Gals were allowed.

The Headmistress nodded with satisfaction, the Gal was obviously taking her part seriously.

Deborah had never seen Ms. Lawton look so good. The Headmistress of the school was always an elegant dresser but this evening she had taken particular care over her appearance. She wore a beautifully cut black silk suit over a white on white blouse. The stiffened collar of the blouse was turned up at the back, the front wings lay out across the lapels of her jacket.. A handkerchief flowered from the pocket of her jacket, a silver broach was clipped to the opposite lapel. The skirt of her suit tapered down to just below her knees, her long slender legs were covered by dark stockings. For footwear she had chosen a pair of matte black high heeled shoes that showed the exquisite line of her ankles to great effect. Around her neck she wore a simple string of pearls. Her hair was neatly coiffed and her make-up discrete and immaculate. Deborah wondered whether she should be flattered.

The Headmistress smiled at Deborah, "I have a surprise for you Deborah. One that I think you'll enjoy. Please be so kind as to go over to the dresser and bring me the box from the drawer."
Deborah found an ornately carved box and brought it to the Headmistress.
"Open the box Deborah."
Not to sure she needed any more surprises Deborah nonetheless complied. She lifted the lid and blinked. Inside the box inlaid in a lush velvet cushion was a long crook handled cane. Deborah swallowed hard.
"Please pick it up Deborah, flex it, swing it."
Deborah recoiled, "I'd rather not if you don't mind."
"Please," the Headmistress said mildly, "be my guest."
The Gal took out the cane and bent it tentatively. She winced as she sliced it through the air.
For the first time she grinned, albeit unconvincingly. "Looks like it might do the job."
The Headmistress laughed. "Let me tell you about this cane Deborah. Several years ago I was requested to admit to this school a princess. A very naughty princess. She had caused her father a great embarrassment and he wished to teach her a lesson. It was stipulated that if she should be punished it would be by myself and in the privacy of this office. It was further stipulated that she should not be punished with a cane that had been used on a commoner and this cane was crafted by the finest cane maker in the kingdom. I used that cane three times before her father felt she had learnt her lesson and after donating the science laboratory to the school she was returned to her family. Three times Deborah, each time a bare bender for a princess. You consider yourself something of a princess Deborah so I have decided to use it for today's performance."
Deborah was not sure whether she was being complimented.

They walked to the hall in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Deborah kept stride with the Headmistress. She held her head high and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. Her bottom still tingled warmly from the vigorous spanking and she knew the flesh would be tender under the harsh lick of the cane. It was her plan to grace the stage as it had never been graced before. She was determined that if tongues were wagging they would be wagging with praise. She also knew she would have to be brave. Very brave indeed.

The Headmistress had long admired Deborah's spunky stoicism and she dearly hoped that her favorite pupil would have the strength of character to take her medicine without any unpleasant fuss. Ms. Lawton hated fuss.


Chapter 9 - Centre Stage

The Headmistress held the door for Deborah and they entered the Assembly Hall. There was a grinding of seats as the Gals rose to greet the Headmistress. Deborah stepped up onto the stage and stood beside the vaulting horse. She clasped her hands in front of her and gazed out over the assembled congregation. She had certainly filled the house. Callover was normally overseen by the duty mistress, the Head Prefect and her deputy. This evening, the hall was packed to the rafters, every teacher in the school was seated on the stage and the walls were lined with prefects.
The Headmistress placed the ornate box on the table and ordered the school to take their seats. Unhurriedly she asked Angela Evans to step onto the stage and proceed with registration.
As she passed by Deborah, Angela threw her a sympathetic glance, La Debs winked. The Head Prefect called registration efficiently and when she called Deborah's name the Gal on the stage turned to face her and replied in a voice filled with irony, "Yes, Evans, I'm here."
Even the Headmistress grinned at that.
Finally the Head Prefect returned to her place by the wall and the Headmistress stood up. She moved to the front of the stage and addressed the school. She did not labor the point, she admonished Deborah's behavior, expressed her regrets and informed the school of her intention to punish the fifth former soundly. During her speech Deborah was pulling sarcastic faces at the Gals who sat before her. They began to chuckle and were immediately silenced by the Headmistress but when she turned suspiciously to look at the Gal Deborah's expression was one of stony indifference.
When the Head turned to open the ornate box Deborah spotted her chum Nicola Jane Nixon waving crossed fingers from the back of the hall, Deborah winked again. The schoolgals chuckled behind their hands. If the Headmistress was aware of Deborah's performance she chose to ignore it. She took the long crook handled cane from the box and turned to face her victim. She held the long thin cane between both hands and flexed it into an arc.
"Assume the position Morton," she instructed.
Deborah turned and faced the vaulting horse. Due to the extra three inches that Matron had raised the top the schoolgal had to tiptoe up as she bent forward at the waist. She reached down and gripped the rail, her hips rested on the top of the horse, she was balanced on the tips of her toes.
The school was treated to the sight of Deborah's bottom, shrouded in the skin tight white gym shorts, as it sat up proud and defenseless.

The Headmistress stood to the left of Deborah and placed the cane on the upturned moons and tapped the stick down gently to gauge her distance. The tight gym shorts made Deborah's slightly plump rump an especially enticing target. She tapped the cane down a second time and then a third.
Deborah closed her eyes tightly.
Satisfied Ms. Lawton raised the cane high above her head and brought her arm down in a full blooded swipe. The cane sliced through the air with a sharp whistle and rebounded off Deborah's backside with a resounding crack.
Deborah felt the breath knocked from her and she held onto the rail with a vice like grip. A line of scalding fire flashed across her tender behind. If the first stripe was anything to go by Deborah was about to experience an exceptionally painful few minutes.
The cane swished and thwacked again, Deborah felt as if every nerve end in her body had been sent into a hot prickly dance. The third slashed downwards and the hapless schoolgal felt giddy with pain. The collar of her blouse felt like it was choking her and her eyes prickled with hot tears that she wouldn't let fall.
The Beak delivered stroke after stroke with deadly force. By the seventh stroke Deborahs buttocks were evenly covered with hot stripes from top to bottom. The eighth and ninth strokes began to merge with the existing stripes but somehow Deborah retained her position without moving and was showing no indication of the trauma she was suffering. Ms. Lawton felt cheated, she was giving it her best and was getting no reaction. She set her mouth in a determined manner and took a tight grip on the cane.
"Lets see how you like this," the Headmistress thought silently then raised the cane even higher and brought her arm down from full stretch. The cane slashed across the target with a terrible crack, as if a rifle shot had been fired.
Deborah struggling to stay silent had stuffed her tie in her mouth and she bit into it in a frothing frenzied agony. Somewhere in the distance she heard an audible gasp.
The Headmistress stared at the cane in horror, upon its devastating impact the cane had snapped off at the end. The princess's cane was broken.
For a moment Ms. Lawton was at a loss as how to proceed. There was no time to send for another cane from her office, she couldn't leave Deborah folded over the horse. Her mind raced.
"Christine bring me your ashplant," she commanded. Quickly the Deputy Head Prefect came onto the stage and handed the Headmistress the short swishy stick that she was required to carry under her arm at all times.
Deborah had no idea what was going on she just wanted the last two strokes to be over with. Her bottom felt fried and frazzled, all her blood seemed to have rushed to her head making her feel dizzy and her tie stuffed in her mouth was almost making her gag.
The Headmistress flexed the ashplant with obvious displeasure. The light rod seemed like a mere twig after the regal stick that now lay cast aside, pathetically broken.
The Headmistress shrugged off her jacket and tossed it to one side. She turned back the right sleeve of her blouse, flexed her muscles, then said, "I'm sorry Morton, this ashplant is most unsuitable, I'm afraid I must give you two additional strokes to make up for its inadequacy."
The school gasped audibly. Deborah, in her upside down position, could hardly believe her ears. She vainly tried to object but before she could get her tie out of her mouth her ass was under fire once again. Deborah's head was spinning at an alarming rate as the twelth stroke whistled through the air. She clenched her teeth as the nerve jangling implosion racked through her body. The thirteenth stroke followed swiftly with the same cobra's venom. Deborah gripped the rail in white knuckle desperation. By now she could hardly breathe through the bile filling her throat and nose, her mouth was filled with wet material and her bottom throbbed and ached and burned.
The Headmistress let the cane fall by her side for a moment. She studied the white target thoughtfully. Deborah had not flinched or moved, not a sound had uttered from her lips, Ms. Lawton was sure that if she put her hands close to the Gal's backside she would be able to warm them as in front of a well-stoked coal fire. The Headmistress lifted the cane for the final time.
The Gals in the assembly hall watched in mute horror as the Headmistress's arm went up. A good number of the Gals congregated had experienced a taste of a Prefects ashplant during their stay at Woody's and were well able to confirm that, despite the Headmistress's reservations, the ashplant, in accomplished hands was more than adequate to stir up the proverbial hornet's nest.
When the ash came down with a terrific swipe not a single Gal in the hall would have swapped places in those gym shorts. The stick lashed diagonally across Deborah's bottom, cruelly crossing each of the previous tramlines, the impact echoing around the hall.
Deborah nearly screamed. She wanted to howl, to yell, to open the floodgates and let all the tears burn down her cheeks. Instead she held her breath and prayed that the wave of agony would pass quickly. She spat out her tie. She ran the sleeve of her blouse over her eyes and nose. She hung upside down and tried to start to breathe normally. She took her time before she pushed herself up As she tried to stand up her knees wobbled and Ms. Lawton put her hand on her shoulder to steady her. Deborah Morton roughly shrugged the Headmistress's assistance away and leant against the vaulting horse. She took a deep breath before she turned and faced the school.
The hall was silent. Every Gal was watching Deborah in disbelieving silence. Despite her chalk white face and the thin set of her lips, she remained defiant. She brushed some hair from her face, tucked her gooey tie back in her gym shorts and calmly stared out at the assembled schoolgals. Even the teachers seemed uncomfortable.
Finally the Headmistress spoke. Her voice was quiet and lacked its usual authority.
"You may retire to your study now Morton," she told Deborah.
The recalcitrant Gal from the Remove looked at the Headmistress contemptuously. "You wanted to thrash me, well now you have. I hope you enjoyed it," her voice was clear and bold. When she had finished speaking she turned on her heel and walked towards the steps. Suddenly she turned around and curtsied.
"Thank you Ma'am," she said sarcastically, "You won't have to beat me again."
As she hurried from the stage her heart was pounding and her bottom felt like a cauldron filled with spicy ingredients each competing for who could make the gumbo hottest. All the while she was waiting to be called back, but in a moment the doors of the hall were swinging behind her and to her great relief she was free.

Chapter 10 - Back in the Clubhouse

Deborah gamely put on a brave face as friend after friend popped their heads around the study door and offered their sympathies. From grubbys and juniors to seniors and prefects they treated Deborah with an almost regal reverence. The Head Prefect and her deputy came and shook hands, even two of the younger mistresses came and applauded Deborah's courage and dignity.
When three little tykes from the third form came to poke fun Nicola Jane chased them with a rounders bat, classmates swiftly intervened and the three luckless juniors found themselves dragged into the fifth form common room where ears were twisted, Chinese burns were administered, dead legs and arms delivered with clinical efficiency before they were chased from the corridor with plimsolls slapping at the seats of their skirts as they ran wailing away.
Deborah had been leaning against the mantelpiece since her stream of well wishers had begun, desperately trying to ignore the flames that raged inside the navy blue knickers she had changed back into. She smiled and thanked the Gals for their concern, even wisecracking when she could. Finally Deborah's resolve broke and asked her friend to close the door and let her recover in peace.
"Jeepers that hurt," she hissed through clenched teeth, her hands rubbing and kneading at the raw weal's that stood up in tram lines across her burning buttocks. Nicola Jane hugged her, tears welling in her eyes, "I'm so sorry Debs I let you down, if I'd been with you this might never have happened."
Deborah hugged her friend back, "Don't be a chump Nicola, there's nothing you could have done and you would have ended up in the same trouble as me."
"I don't care," Nicola Jane said forlornly. "At least you wouldn't have been alone. I'll never forgive myself. After all it would only have meant whops."
Deborah hugged her chum even tighter, "I suppose you're right Nix, it was only whops." Then they were hugging each other and sobbing together and Deborah began to feel better. "Yes," she told herself, "it was only whops."

It was after prep that there was another knock on the door. "See who it is Nix," Deborah said wearily, "and ask them to go away."
Nicola Jane swung open the door. "What do you want?" she snapped.
"I came to see Morton," came the response, "I just wanted to ...".
"Just go away," Nicola Jane barked, "we're closed for the day."
"I'm sorry Nixon I..." THUD! The door closed in the Gals face.
Deborah grinned kindly, "Steady Nix, who was that anyway?"
"It was only the Minxster, but she's gone now."
"Oh Nicola come on she's one of us, call her back."
"You said..."
"I know darling, but please call her."
Nicola Jane shrugged and opened the door.
"Sutters, hey, Sutters," she shouted after the retreating Gal, "Deborah wants to see you."
Lisa Sutton stood in the doorwell and looked sheepish. "I'm sorry to bother you Morton, I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about what happened. That was really over the top. You were just so brave. Look I'd better cut along, I shouldn't have bothered you."
Lisa Sutton began to back out of the door.
"Don't be a chump Lisa, thank you for coming. It's kind of you. I appreciate it," Deborah smiled.
"I would have come earlier but I had an appointment." The Minxster blushed.
Deborah raised an eyebrow archly, "Whops?"
Lisa continued to crimson.
"I'm sorry to hear that, how was it?" Deborah asked amiably.
Lisa shrugged, "Well it was nothing compared to you of course but it was hot enough. It was Mitch the Bitch. You know after prep she was just waiting to swag someone and when she couldn't find anybody she just picked on me. She hates me anyway. So she tells me I'm going to get for and I say what for and she says for rubbishing her and I say I hadn't been rubbished nobody, and she says I have been now and how would I like to take it up with the Beak. So I go with her to the library and she's just horrible and she's going on about you being caned and how there ought to be more Heads Floggings and she's just about salivating. So anyway I bend over and she lays it on thick. Then I give her my book and she says I haven't apologized, so I say I'm sorry and she says it's a bit late for that and tells me to bend over again and I get another two. So I apologize for not apologizing and give her my book again and she rights down four. I say that's not fair you gave me six, which we know is again
st the rules, and she says she can only give me four at anyone time and these were two separate punishments one for disobedience and one for insolence. Now I should of shut up of course but I ask her why she doesn't make two entries then? I say that we'll see what the Beak thinks when she does the count on Thursday and if she asks me I'll tell her the truth and take my chances."
"So anyways she goes crazy and says that if I go around telling people that she gave her six she'll make trouble for me and to make sure I remember she tells me to bend over again. So I get another two and only get written up for four and, well, that's why I'm late."
She blushed again, "I'm sorry. What am I thinking about giving you my troubles? I'll just cut along." Then as an afterthought she said, "Look, I expect you've already got some but I bought you a jar of cold cream, and well," She closed the door conspiratorially, "please don't grass me up but sometimes when I've really caught it hot I find this helps." She reached behind her and hidden under her blazer in the waist of her skirt was a hip flask. "It's vodka, doesn't smell."
Deborah smiled again, "You're a good egg Sutton, where the hell did you get that from?"
"I have my sources, but look you keep it and I'll leave you alone."
"Oh rot, come in and sit down," Deborah giggled, "or maybe you'd prefer to stand, I must admit I'm not much in the mood for sitting myself. I'm sorry you got whopped because of me. Still, no good crying over spilt milk," said Deborah, "lets have a swig of that vodka and then maybe you'd do the honors with that cream Nix. I'm sure Lisa could do with some cooling down."
The Gals swigged deeply on the flask, the alcohol going immediately to their heads setting them chuckling.
"Well knickers down, bottoms up Lisa," giggled Deborah, "I don't know about you but my arse is on fire, lets get busy Nicola."
So Nicola Jane Nixon one of the naughtiest Gals at Woody's found herself with a pot of cold cream in her hand and her best friend and fellow troublemaker bent over one end of the sofa and the current enfant terrible of the school bent over the other. With two striped and throbbing bottoms just waiting to be cooled down. Nicola Jane Nixon dipped into the pot.

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