There was no way she was going to get ‘no more than two grades marked as “C’ or below’
in the term-end exam because almost all of her grades in such exams over the past five
years had been ‘Cs’ or below’. Even ‘D’s’… Or below…
It wasn’t that she was exceptionally dim – rather the reverse – but that she’d spent
most of the five years failing to concentrate on useful educational matters while she
planned more important things…
Like the quickest way to pissoff when she became eighteen, where there might be a
interesting place to pissoff to with all that money, how and where, having pissed-off, to
get her boobs enhanced – and where to get a sufficiently large candle with which to
forcibly entertain Francine Chuc during the night before she did pissoff. With the
money…
The other thing which had exercised her mind a good deal and was forever doing so
was the matter of clothes….
‘Here I am’ she thought, ’eighteen years old, sitting on a bed in a dull and bare,
almost medieval french dorm, dressed in ‘the uniform’….. Come on, say it….. Dressed in a
thick, brown – I ask you, brown - linen deepline bra shaped like two bags, thick brown
very full and almost knee-length actual knickers with elastic top-and-bottom, a white
Edwardian blouse with a bloody great ‘sailor collar’, a bloody-great dark brown
box-pleated circular skirt from about 1930, pale tan knee-socks and clumpy, round-toed,
strap-fastening black leather ‘Mary Jane’ shoes with inch and a half block heels. And
that’s just the good part…. If I get put back a year to being a probationer, I’ll not only
have to go back to wearing a highly-visible yellow badge saying so, but I’ll lose the
‘Senior’s’ concession of being able to wear the awful ‘Mary Jane’ things and will have to
go back to wearing brown – ugh – lace-up – ugh – gym-shoes. For a whole year…..
Whereas what I wanted, what I expected to be wearing – already, as I pissed-off with
the money - which isn’t going to happen, is it? – is no bra, one of those tiny
thong-things, a baggy black ‘sweatshirt’, parallel-leg ‘denim jeans’, slip-on canvas
‘sneakers’ - ‘thongs’ and ‘sweatshirts’ and ‘jeans’ and ‘sneakers’ - plus, of course, the
new Bill Haley record - being the very latest and wildly-fashionable ‘American’ imports
for the young to have arrived from across the Atlantic – ‘…..because I’d been wearing
boring English school uniforms of one kind or another until I came here to this place,
when I immediately got shoved into this medieval, boring French stuff…’
‘Shit and shit and shit and shit…..’ she muttered again. ‘I have got to get out of
this place…..So what am I going to do about my end-of-term Grades? I need some serious
help…..’
Fortunately – depending on how you view it of course – Mary generally tended to be a
‘lucky’ young woman and in this instance help was at hand….
Help in the form of fifty-six year old Sister-Tutor Mercy and her twenty-five year
old friend Sister Charity, the two form tutors who had, for some time, being paying close
attention to Mary’s approaching birthday. Sister Mercy was, rather like the school itself,
a product of old, not to say ancient educationalist-theory and had been extremely put-out
when, in 1954, St.Elfrida’s had chosen to ban the use of corporal punishment. And Bill
Haley records… To Sister Mercy, the banning of corporal punishment had – at a stroke as
it were - permanently removed an aspect of her educational duties which she particularly
valued and enjoyed – the fact that she could – and often did - apply ‘the slipper’ – a
gym-shoe – to a Senior’s backside if she thought it ‘necessary’. As she said to Sister
Charity – who she had been guiding along the correct educational path in the hope that
‘cp’ would return one day…
“This is exactly the case in point – as I’ve so often said to you, this ridiculous
ban is yet another nail in the coffin of proper education…. What are we going to do about
this girl Mary we’ve been watching so closely? She’s fully eighteen now and officially
became a Senior just days ago. You and I had agreed that if ever there was a girl in need
of regular chastisement, she’s the one – just look at her grades and at the shape of that
backside under her skirt… If anyone needs the help, the very positive help afforded by an
occasional beating, she does… It helped me when I was that age – even though my grades
were, of course, infinitely better than hers….. I’ve no idea what the world is coming
to…..” Etc, etc…
She was, she added, ‘too old now to use ‘the slipper’ effectively’ and had, before
the notorious ‘ban’, been looking forward to watching Sister Charity do the necessary on
her behalf; had been encouraging Sister Charity in that direction you see…’
Not that her young novice friend needed much encouragement. Sister Charity had
never had ‘the slipper’ during her own novice-years but had occasionally watched it
used….and had, with Sister Mercy’s encouragement, grown to very much like the idea of
using one herself. Had even identified a suitable future candidate in the form of the
girl ‘Mary’ - only to be defeated in her purpose by ‘the ban’. Alors, it was so
disappointing…. But, unlike Mary, she didn’t sit and swear - instead Sister Charity made
life a sweaty, exhausting hell for the girls in her next PT class…
Lay Sister Charity was responsible for the physical-education of all the Seniors –
gym, PT, hockey, lacrosse and such, and was recognised as ‘just the type’ for the task,
being small and excessively energetic, athletic in form and manner – rarely seen in
lay-sister’s simple grey dress – never in the habit and winged coif of Sisters-proper of
course - instead almost always in the severe white blouse and short dark divided-skirt of
her kind, hair in a fierce bun, bounding about unnecessarily in immaculate white gym-shoes
and yelling at her PT class such things as
“On your toes, arms by your sides – wait for it… Feet wide apart, arms above your
heads – SPRING – feet together, arms down by your sides, SPRING… Again, feet apart, arms
upwards, SPRING!. Again… Again… COME ALONG GIRLS!”
“Susan Cannon!” she might call – yell actually - “Halt! Fall out; twelve rapid
push-ups NOW…!” - whereas what she really wanted to be able to yell, to the Canon girl or
to Clementine Dubois or to any other of her charges was “fall out at once! At the double,
lift those knees girl, UP,UP,UP,UP, front of the class NOW, tennnnSHUN, give me one of
your gym-shoes and bend over….” But of course, she couldn’t….
“I suppose” said Sister Charity later that day, in response to Sister Mercy’s
continuing complaints about the banning of ‘cp’ and to their concerns about ‘Mary’,
“I suppose she’ll just have to have extra lessons then. Have extra tuition… If
she’s to have any hope of meeting the conditions of her Trust thing…?”
“Who will?”
“The Mary girl….”
‘Won’t do her any good, she’s got no self-discipline…” said Sister Mercy, sniffing
her disapproval of everything in general.
“Extra tuition…. After hours…..”
“Yes my dear. Won’t do her any good though…”
“Extra private tuition…..We could do that Sister, you and I, couldn’t we?
Privately….”
“Got enough work as it is” muttered Sister Mercy
“….With a slipper….” said her friend, quietly. “Privately…”
“Of course not. That sort of thing’s banned. It would have to be unofficial – and
quite private” was the thoughtful reply.
Help for Mary was at hand. Help too for both Sister-Tutors.
“Now my dear” said Sister Mercy to Mary, having summoned her next day to a ‘little
talk’ about the latter’s elevation to the ‘Seniors’, “what are we going to do about your
grades? I believe there may be some difficulty over your leaving if they don’t improve….
Some difficulty over your being allowed to leave St.Elfrida’s… All to do with your Trust I
understand…”
“I don’t know, Sister” said Mary, even more desperate now because the subject was
suddenly out in the open. “I do try to get better grades…. “
“Of course you do, cheri… I’ve been thinking about you a great deal. Hmm.
You’re a bright, intelligent girl – er – young woman, Mary, quite capable of really good
grades…. What I think you lack, my dear, is discipline. Doing your class work again and
again until you get it right – that sort of thing. Extra lessons after school until your
grades do improve. That’s what we mean by discipline - nowadays anyway, I’m afraid….”
“I do, Sister. Hours and hours of extra work….” Mary didn’t and never had, but she
intended to.
“It’s not going to be as it used to be” said Sister Mercy, carrying on as if Mary
hadn’t spoken… “In my day, a Senior girl - as you are now, Mary dear – who turned in
really poor work – well – we’d deal with it with the slipper. Always worked…. Why
subject an eighteen year old pupil to endless ‘revision’ and hours of extra lessons when
an occasional few minutes with the slipper would put things right? Still, that sort of
thing’s forbidden now – the slipper I mean - so I suppose I shouldn’t talk about it…..
Always worked though; just another kind of extra lesson - extra tuition like that – three
or four minutes with the slipper….Discipline, you see…’Six of the best’ as les Anglais
call it…”
“Yes, Sister….”
“Take this English Literature paper of yours – which I shall have to mark as a ‘D’
I’m afraid – so you’ll have to do it again – and if necessary again and again until it’s
worth at least a ‘B’. In the old days just one extra lesson, just four or five minutes
with the slipper – a ‘six of the best’ or an ‘eight of the best’ - and it would become
worthy of a ‘B’ at least. More and you could certainly have expected a ‘B-plus - in
return, if you follow me, Mary dear… Sister Charity – I’ve discussed you with her –
thinks that’s all you need, really – the slipper – but she’s a little old-fashioned, as I
am, despite her young years….”
“Sister Charity?’ wondered Mary, ‘What’s Sister Charity got to do with anything?’
“Sister Charity, Sister?”
“Yes dear. She would have seen to it, d’you see. I’m getting too old for such
energetic things, so I’d just watch, to make sure it was done properly….. In private
naturally…. A few minutes with a slipper…. But enough of that – the question is what are
we going to do about your very bad grades eh, my girl? The slipper is banned now… Come
along girl, what about this Literature-Anglaise paper, for a start? Think about it….”
Mary thought about it…. ‘I have to leave this place and collect the cash. To do that
I have to get really good grades…. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it…not if the ‘D’s’
became ‘C’s – or even ‘B’s, ‘B-plus’ even, just like that? I had the slipper once in the
other school when I was in England, in the Fourth - from Miss Vaughan… It wasn’t so bad….
Quite – quite nice really… She did it in front of the Class - and Miss thingummy watched.
But it’d be in private this time… So nobody else would know… Sister Charity is alright –
with Sister Mercy there to see it’s fair….’
“Come along Mary, don’t just stand there….” said Sister Mercy, “what do we do about
this D-grade ‘Lit.Anglaise’ paper – or any others equally poor?”
“If…if there wasn’t this ‘ban’ thing….?”
“Yes dear?”
“I mean… If… If I…If I h-had…had the s-slipper…. if the s-slipper was still
allowed I m-mean… What you’re s-saying, with respect Sister, is that I w-wouldn’t have to
do the paper again? It could be re-graded to a B? J-just like t-that?”
“Or even ‘B-plus’ – as I mentioned…” said Sister Mercy. “If you had just a quick
special extra lesson, a private one - is that what you mean, Mary dear?”
“I – I think s-so, y-yes…Sister…”
“Each time you turned-in unsatisfactory work?”
“Y-yes, Sister… So that…so that the marks could be re-graded…”
“You mean a private, extra special lesson, with a slipper…”said Sister Mercy,
clearly desirous of mutual understanding.
“I th-think so, Sister…. Er – providing the marks really would be re-graded, and
upwards. Nothing less than a B…..”
“I can guarantee it dear. I do all the Senior’s grading”
“Sister?”
“Yes dear?”
“P-please will you… I mean, p-please can my Eng.Lit p-paper…be….er –regraded?”
“……a lesson with the slipper, cheri?”
“Y-yes, Sister…”
“Eight whacks. For a B instead of a D…..”
“Oh….Perhaps – perhaps a C would be enough, Sister….”
“Eight whacks for a B. I’ll speak to Sister Charity then. You can have a private
lesson this evening, straight after Senior Tea. In my study dear… It’ll be quite
private – just you and Sister Charity and myself… “
“Y-yes Sister….”
Making her way back to the classrooms, Mary thought ‘This is ridiculous,
embarrassing – I’m eighteen years old and a Senior and I’m going to ‘get the slipper…’
Volunteering to have my bottom whacked with a slipper….. ‘ Yet the more she thought
about it, the more she wondered why – as well as being ridiculous and embarrassing – the
prospect of…..the prospect of being ‘spanked’ – or ‘whacked’ or whatever it was - with a
slipper seemed oddly….well….er…st-stimulating.. exciting…. Scary, embarrassing, a little
bit painful - but – er – stimulating… Never mind, the main thing was to get a ‘B’grading
for the Eng.Lit paper…. And at least a ‘B’, or even a B-plus for anything else she had to
do….
During ‘Senior Tea’ she noticed that Sister Mercy didn’t look at her, not even once-
though Sister Charity gave her a quick smile…. Exciting…. Stoppit – never mind
‘exciting’, just get whacked and collect a ‘B-plus…
After Tea, trembling a little, Mary went quietly to the dorm and changed her ‘Mary
Janes’ for her ‘Probationer’s’ brown lace-up gyms-shoes – because they were quieter. A
girl in gym-shoes going along the old stone floor of the private Staff Passage after
school-hours would be less likely to be noticed by inquisitive eyes and ears than a girl
wearing clumpy ‘Mary Janes’ with their blocky leather heels. ‘Good thinking Mary my
girl’ thought she, grinning to herself in self-congratulation – and then not grinning as
she tied the laces of the gymshoes, stood up – and realised that now she had to go and be
beaten…. Wondering why that thought made her legs, her thighs feel so strange…
It was very easy, even though she was trembling a little. A tap at Sister Mercy’s
study-door and Sister Mercy let her in….
“Good girl, Mary… This way…”
Through the study’s outer-office into the sitting-room, through the sitting-room
into Sister Mercy’s bedroom, never before seen. Doors closed…. I’m going to be beaten….
Sister Charity standing there in her PT uniform, holding a worn, old-looking
greyish-white gym-shoe… She’s going to beat me with that…..
“Good girl. Stand at the end of the bed, Mary. Face the curtains, feet together…
Wearing your gym-shoes I see; sensible girl. Bend over, lift your skirt onto your back
and hold your ankles…. Leave your knickers up….. “
“Eight” said Sister Mercy….
‘I’m going to be beaten’ thought Mary, bending down and staring at the carpet –
which was green – and at her long pale-tan socks and at the smooth brown rubber toe-caps
of her gym-shoes… ‘So why aren’t I scared and embarrassed. In fact, why am I getting a
pleasant sort of anticipatory feeling? That’s weird….’
There was no pause, no delay…..
THWACKK!
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