One of my Gitana sisters had also wet her knickers before her caning for having failed the B+ required average for our mock exam; and she was fighting over half a dozen girls who wanted to take her knickers down. Lucy and I charged, and it didn't matter that we were out numbered, we had to help our sister! We were soon overwhelmed. One of them shouted. "Take their skirts off as well!"
I
was wrestled to the ground, and kicked and punched, but I felt my
knickers being ripped off. Then all the Gitanas of the Reform School
came to our rescue. It was quite a brawl, with a number of bloodied noses
and lips when we were separated.
The
next day, we were all caned, and two days later, we took our final exam. I
still had a couple of sore welts, and the wooden chair felt very hard
after three hours of going through our accounting test. As I wriggled in
my chair, I remembered the matron sergeant, "If you have to take the
remedial exam you will be caned."
I didn't wet my knickers as a silly little girl, I applied myself!
A
week later we crowded in front of the notice board. Lucy and I were
among the top five. We rubbed our eyes and read again, and danced!
The sergeant matron was quite surprised and congratulated us, before encouraging us to pursue our studies.
I
was back at Anna and Maria's accounting office. They opened a bottle of
champagne! They said that I should attend law school. I was half baked.
A few days later, I had lunch with Lucy. She convinced me to attend
law school with her. We crammed, and successfully took an exam for a
loan, and to be allotted a small apartment within the campus.
We
struggled, and almost failed our first term. The Deputy Dean summoned
us, and on the bench outside his study we found four classmates who had
done as poorly as us.
The
first one left his office with wet eyes, and she was rubbing her bum
with her miniskirt. We didn't miss her grimace, it reminded us of our
Reform School. We both bit our lips.
The second one didn't rub her the bottom of her jeans. and was red face without wet eyes.
The
next two went together. We guessed that they are sharing a campus
apartment. They left his office with puffy eyes, and while they rubbed
their bums with their minis we saw cane stripes decorating the back of
their thighs.
We
were next. He didn't invite us to seat, we stood in front of his desk
between the two chairs for visitors. We were nervously twitching the
hems our our miniskirts. He lectured us, and we got more than an earful!
He concluded with. "I am willing to help you, but there is a price. You
both deserve to be caned..."
Having said that he stood up and pulled back his window's curtain to reveal an umbrella stand with a couple of canes.
"Yes who ?"
"Yes Sir."
"Spell it out!"
"We deserve to be caned, Sir."
"How?"
"On the bare, Sir."
"Then lower your knickers, raise your skirts, and bend over the back of the visitor chairs."
We both got six of the best, six of the very best, and boy did they sting.
"And for such a poor term you are also getting the lazy girl stroke across the back of your thighs."
WHACK! and WHACK!
We echoed each others with "AIEEEEEEEEEE!" and "OUCHEEEEEEE!"
That last stroke was the worse!
He added. "Every Friday afternoon, I am offering a private class for the few girls I selected, you will be attending them."
Sniffling we nodded while pulling up our knickers, and adjusting our skirts.
He further added. "All my girls are always wearing skirts!"
We again nodded while drying our eyes.
Red face we ran all the way to our campus apartment with rubbing our minis over our incandescent bums.
We squeezed into our bathtub for a long soak with Epsom salt, before rubbing our welts with Arnica.
"Ouch! We better pull up our socks!"
Next
morning we realized that our skirts would hide the shameful lazy girl
stripes if we didn't run. We retrospectively blushed for yesterday's
running to our apartment after our caning.
We
attended his private class with the other two girls who had been caned,
plus two more who were wriggling uncomfortably in their seats. He
taught us how to speed read and how to memorized our lessons. He gave us
quizzes, and we we were bare butt belted in front of our chums when we
failed them.
Needless to say that we felt well encouraged to apply ourselves!
Epilogue
We got caned quite a few times, and like our six chums we graduated on top of our class, and with honors!
He
replaced the Dean, and with his new connections he helped us open our
law firm. We recruited two secretaries, two Gitanas from Butt Tanning House number 7.
And! And, we bought two red convertible Mustangs!
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