Sunday after service, while socializing in the priory's garden, Helen and I overheard the old church lady we saw at Sullivan's. She was telling another church mice. "I saw those two buying school canes, and I chatted with Mrs Sullivan and we agreed that it wasn't for their nieces, as they had claimed. Another lady joined in the gossiping. "I heard from the grandmother of Linda who attends Miss Murray's adult remedial lessons that they were caned."
She was pressed for details and willingly gave them. "They had cheated in a test and Miss Murray, who can't do any better than give lines since the silly new EU laws told their husbands to cane them or she would expel them." The gossipers were reinforced by Linda's grandma and she was asked for more details. "According to Linda, they were caned, but so far only Miss Murray saw the evidence."
Back home, one after the other we pleaded with the boys, "We want to be excused from PE because we will have to change into gym knickers in the classroom as there's no changing rooms."
"Everyone will see our striped bums!"
We got no sympathy from them. They took turn lecturing us, "You told us that you want to graduate, and insisted that you must graduate to take website designing classes."
"You even asked us to give you a caning that would satisfy Miss Murray."
"You can't have if both ways!"
"The fact that you will expose your decorated bum while changing for PE will be a good complement to your punishment."
"Well deserved."
"And your next report card better show some improvement!"
"Or else!"
Again and again, we massaged each other's derrieres with Arnica gel. It wasn't much help, our stripes, although faded, were still quite obvious. There would be no doubt that we were caned as naughty schoolgirls.
Monday came and with it Miss Murray's order to change into our gym knickers, or burumas as she calls them. We felt the eyes of our classmates as we changed. We blushed crimson as we heard their Ohs and Ahs. Worse was having our streaked lower curves peeking out of our shorts.
Epilogue.
After that episode, Miss Murray and the boys kept us on a severe regime. We were also given the martinet on our thighs when our grades dropped under C minus. We learned our lessons by heart, and recited them to each other before each class.
We graduated with honors. We joined a website building school. A few months later we went AWOL during a visit to a major developer. We thought that we wouldn't be missed, we were wrong.
The boys invited Miss Murray. She showed us how it was done in the old days. She told us to take our skirts and knickers off before grabbing our ankles. She alternated between us and we got six of the very best plus one more for having broken our position. It was nothing like the caning the boys had given us.
I couldn't see if Helen danced, but I heard her song, "OH! ARGH! OUCH! AIEEEEEE!"
Next, without even a fast soothing rub, she had us stand in front of a wall with our hands on top of our heads for fifteen minutes. We sniffled and our bums throbbed and throbbed.
She released us from our corner time and left. The boys had us moaning as they gave us soothing rubs with cooling cream. They also teased us, "You're liking this too much!"
Later, back home, our bed creaked even more and Jeremy decided that we need a new one.
Next day, back to our website building school, we couldn't help fidgeting on our chairs as our derrieres were so tender. A few of our classmates might have been curious, but they would never know of our discipline regime.
We again graduated with honors and our first job was the website of the City Hall. It was enough for down payments on our Minis. We insisted on red trimmings...
Martine and Helen
You are invited to role-play with us !
./.
