Chapter One

 

"Come out to the front of the class Meria!"

The stern call came as Meria was just folding the note and returning it to Jella her friend in the desk across the aisle.

She sighed and her stomach lurched in fear.

Miss Chandra was known to have keen eyes but History had been so boring that the two girls had exchanged a couple of notes about a pupil in the boys' school down the road. Inevitably, it had been Meria who had been seen. Well, she supposed, she had known the risks and now she had to pay the price.

She stood up and slowly walked along between the desks as all the other girls relaxed and prepared to enjoy the show.

Miss Chandra had her prey, now they were safe.

Meria reached the desk at the front of the class and stood facing her teacher. Miss Chandra was a tall woman in her mid thirties, her face was handsome rather than pretty, she had a mane of thick black hair, always tied up in a chignon, and she always dressed in simple white shirts above her severe black skirts. All Dentherian women wore floor length skirts and all girls wore floor length pinafore dresses over simple blouses.

"Once more it seems I must beat some lessons into you Meria," Miss Chandra said coldly.

"Yes, Miss," Meria agreed sadly.

"Go and fetch the cane," Miss Chandra said, rising from her chair and coming around the desk.

With dragging feet, Meria walked across the front of the classroom - all her classmates' eyes following her avidly. When Miss Chandra beat a girl, it was a terrible ordeal for the recipient and therefore all the more to be savoured by those who had escaped it. Meria came to the tall, plain wood cupboard and pulled open the door.

Inside, under the piles of ageing text books on the shelves and leaning up against the corner was the cane. No one knew how long Miss Chandra had had it, but it had bent into a curve over the years in which it had been employed on girls' bottoms and now it looked like a scimitar in rattan and it curled snugly around the contours of a girl's buttocks perfectly.

Slowly, Meria reached in and took hold of it then plodded back to hand it to Miss Chandra.

The woman's glittering, dark eyes bored into her and there was no mistaking the sadistic smile that played around her mouth as she contemplated the coming thrashing. In many whispered playground conferences, the girls had wondered about Miss Chandra - she had certainly never been seen with a man although she wasn't unattractive - and they shared with terrified fascination the idea that maybe Miss Chandra did it with other women. It wasn't unknown, one of Meria's friend's aunts had run away with another woman some years before and the small township was still talking about it.

"Dress!" Miss Chandra snapped with just a hint of suppressed anticipation. Meria reached up and unbuttoned each shoulder strap then drew the dress down her body and stepped out of it. Her shirt came to just below her bottom, she had on a pair of plain pink knickers and her shoes and that was all. She stood half naked before her teacher.

Miss Chandra - as always at this stage of proceedings - took her time, looking her up and down as if in contempt of an unruly pupil but Meria could see the excitement spreading a faint flush across her cheeks. For some reason she could never later fully understand she pushed her shoulders back and stuck her chest out.

They were good breasts and still developing. Jella and a lot of the girls were very envious of them and several had wondered if that was the reason that Meria found herself out at the front of the class more than any other girl. The burgeoning tits tested the fabric of her shirt even when she didn't stick her chest out, but now the buttons strained to contain them. Their size had been one reason that she had fought against her parents when they said they wanted her to stay at school after her seventeenth birthday. Most Dentherian girls left school then and found work or marriage or both, but her mother especially wanted her to study further in Malthrobal, the capital city. Meria desperately wanted to be bedded, but Dentherian girls were dutiful. She had endured further schooling for eighteen months but now the indignity of what she was facing - yet again - and the scarcely concealed delight this wretched woman would take in beating her made her reckless.

Miss Chandra's nostrils flared as she saw the buttons straining to contain Meria's breasts and she turned away quickly to pick the cane off the desk.

"Knickers and then up, Meria! You of all people know the drill!"

Meria suppressed a smile at her small victory and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the knickers before pulling them down all the way and stepping out of them as well. It was always on the bare with Miss Chandra.

Then she climbed up onto the desk and placed herself on all fours, facing away from the class. Miss Chandra's intention was to humiliate her victim utterly and allow the rest of the class to watch the blossoming of the double lines the cane carved in the smooth, pale skin. The fact that the girls - and Miss Chandra - could all see the victim's neat vulval pouch between the flogged buttocks was only commented on in the girls' toilets afterwards and on the walk home.

Meria fixed her eyes on the potted plant that was kept beside the blackboard and began to count the petals of its flowers, which was what she always did while Miss Chandra beat her.

"Even though you do seem to be a hopeless case, Meria, I shall not lessen my efforts to try and instil some appreciation of learning into you," Miss Chandra said as she lifted the tail of Meria's shirt clear of her bottom.

Meria choked back her retort that this had nothing to do with her desire to see a fresh young pussy and flog some nice tight ass then. But suddenly she was choking back the sob that threatened to bubble up out of her mouth as the first strike landed. This time the old witch hadn't even touched her with the cane to warn her, she had just laid it on full strength and with no warning. She blinked back tears and settled herself grimly, she hadn't even told her how many she was getting, this was going to be a bad one

The cane sliced back at her again and Meria managed to take it in silence. The third one seared across her bottom before she could absorb the second and she had to drop her head and bite her lip to stop the cry. The fourth stoke hit her low down, just at the junction of buttock and thigh. The blast of pain from that one made Meria throw her head back and screw her eyes tight shut against the bitter stinging. Miss Chandra usually saved those strokes for the later stages of a beating, but for some reason the cow had decided that Meria was really going to suffer this time.

Five.

Six

Seven.

Meria felt her forearms begin to quiver with the strain. How many was she getting? Twelve had been the previous worst and that was a class record.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Tears were rolling down Meria's cheeks now. Her head hung down and she could see them puddling on the desk top. Quickly she took one hand away and wiped her nose then replaced it just before the eleventh stroke hit home. Miss Chandra really seemed to be hitting her with her full force. Was it because of her showing her tits off? Had the fact that Miss Chandra knew she would never get to stroke and hold them made her be extra cruel? Whatever, Meria fidgeted with the strain of holding position, her knees hurt, her arms ached and her buttocks were beyond anything she had ever felt.

Twelve.

It was a thunderous strike and again at the agonising junction of thigh and buttock. But somehow she had taken the full twelve, weathered the storm without crying out loud. She let her breath out and began to move.

Suddenly the cane was back, tapping lightly against the roasting hot skin.

"Where are you going, Meria?" Miss Chandra asked in her most oily voice - the one she used when she asked a pupil a question she knew they couldn't answer and she could reach for the tawse or cane.

"Miss?" Meria quavered.

"Stay where you are, you wretch. You've got more coming!"

Even in amongst the roaring in her ears as she heard that and the thunder of her heart, she heard the class murmur. Twelve was an awful beating, her bottom would be crossed with thick red lines from side to side and she would carry the yellowing bruises for days, maybe weeks. The class would have been able to watch as her cheeks rippled and shook at each stroke, Meria had been able to watch as well as suffer in the past and she knew the strange storms of emotions that ran through the girls when one of their number was beaten on the bare in front of them. She had seen the furtive hands rubbing at the laps under the desks as the buttocks of the victim had flattened then rebounded and swayed under the cane.

Her own hands had done the same when Jella had been beaten, her wide. fleshy cheeks, shaking deliciously in the wake of each stroke. And the two friends had often helped soothe each other's wounded hinds after the beatings. So, the murmur from the class was one of mingled horror, sympathy and vicarious excitement as they prepared to watch a flogging go into unknown territory. As she sniffed and swallowed and briefly considered the thrashing her father would give her if she rebelled, Meria wondered if Jella could be persuaded to kiss her bottom better in the woods after school.