She pulled back a screen, Flo, and on the chest behind it were three large glass bowls – goldfish bowls perhaps but there were no fish in them. Instead there were heaps of little paper pieces folded into small squares
She pointed to one of them. “In this bowl, Anna, the slips all have names of the implements that I use for punishments – slipper, brush, strap, … switch, cane, and so on.”
“And so on” left an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
“Occasionally, if you ask nicely, I will use my hand. I am ambidextrous, remember.”
Then she pointed to the second bowl. “In this one all the slips of paper have numbers on them. Not all the numbers, just the numbers from 6 to 36 that are multiples of three. We – that is, you – pick one slip from each bowl. Together they tell us your punishment.” She picked a slip from the first bowl, looked up at me and asked me to tell her the number. It was a 9, so I said “nine, Miss.”
“And this one?” She handed me a slip from the second bowl.
“Brush, Miss Donovan.”
“So, your punishment would be nine cracks with the hairbrush. I call them cracks, Anna, not smacks. They are much harder than smacks and they make a sound on your poor bottom like the crack of a rifle. For that to work your bottom has to be completely bare ….. As it may well be …. You understand?”
“I think so, Miss.”
“You will understand soon, Anna. But now, I expect you are wondering about the third bowl, aren’t you? What do you think that is for?”
I really could not imagine; I looked down at my feet.
“They tell us something very important about your punishment, Anna. Pick a slip from the third bowl. Tell me what it says.”
Well, Flo, I took a slip and unfolded and read it.
“It says ‘panties’ Miss Donovan.”
“Then you would be fairly lucky, Anna. You would get your nine cracks of the hairbrush with your skirt removed, and your panties in place.
[Donnie was teasing. No, lying. Or Anna was. She would never leave a girl’s panties ‘in place’.]
The others say things like ‘skirt’ and ‘hands’. The one to avoid at all costs is ‘BB’. I’m sure you can work out what that means, Anna.”
I knew, and blushed deeply Flo. I had heard about bare-bottom spankings and how much we dreaded them, and we had both narrowly escaped one that time we were caught canoodling with the boys by the bike sheds during prep time. I could imagine how much they would sting.
“I have a question, Miss Donovan.”
“Go ahead, Anna.”
“Suppose I pick a 36, and a cane, and a BB. Would that not be super extreme?”
You remember how Miss Donovan had this strange capacity to frown and smile at the same time. It was a signal to beware of.
“It may seem that way Anna, but rules are rules and there can be no exceptions. If that happened you would receive 36 strokes of the cane on your bare bottom, just the same. It’s a risk you have to take if you want to be in my school. It would be a severe punishment but it would be a necessary lesson for you. You would deserve it and you would soon be crying, and your bottom would be very sore for several days.”
Miss Donovan look fixedly at me for several minutes, wondering – I suspect – whether I would burst into tears or run from the room. But I held my ground, and so did she.
“Now Anna,” she told me, “we will play our game in the garden and pick the slips of paper for real. There is a shed in the corner with everything we need in it. And a bench for you to go over with your little bottom in just the right place, and a table to put any clothes you have to take off. I will take two of the bowls and you can take the third one. Do not drop it!”
Her look grew quite menacing. You know how it could be, Flo. I was sure that if I broke the bowl I would not be sitting down for days. If ever.
In the garden I picked the first two slips:
‘24’
‘Switch’
My hand trembled as I reached into the third bowl and slowly extracted the fateful last slip.
“Go on Anna. The third slip. I am waiting.” Miss Donovan’s impatience was electrifying.
I read out the dire and inevitable instruction; the two letters were printed in bright capitals followed by a huge exclamation mark.
Miss Donovan’s face lit up.
“Ah, Anna, exactly what you deserve I think; how wise of me to let chance decide. And how opportune. You have picked a switch from the bowl and now you can pick one for real in the garden. Look over here.”
She led me to a little group of willow trees and took hold of a branch.
“How about this one? Fetch the secateurs for me.” There was a pair of secateurs among a collection of cutters on the workbench. I took it over to where Miss Donovan was smiling expectantly. I found it hard to keep them steady.
“You cut it, Anna. Carefully now. Don’t hurt yourself.”
She grinned with a menacing irony.
“I will give you 12 on your legs – across here – then 12 on your bottom. Across here and here and here! It will be bare – from the waist down, where it matters.”
She had the switch in her hand and I was terrified, Flo.
[At this point Anna became upset and she asked me to continue her story as I remember it.]
Florence
To be continued...