The Unready Prefect

1. Forging any official document for use at the Academy.

2. Cheating on any assignment or test.

3. Providing false information to any Academy employee, including staff, professors, and senior..." My words tumble to a halt as I sense the hem of my uniform rising. The older man has my dress in both hands! "Sir, you can't!"

"Don't tell me how to punish a deceitful student!"

"No!" My natural sense of modesty forces me to rise from the desk. "You can't, sir! You just can't!"

"I can and I will! Now get back into position and read 13b!"

I feel the blood drain from my face. Staring back at the man, I could see the fervour burning in his eyes. He had to be made to see that this was all wrong! "Sir! You're making a mistake!"

"Mistake?" The disciplinarian's voice grows menacingly quiet. "The only mistake I made was not taking these matters into my hands from day one. You now face six, Miss. If you don't want the maximum, then I suggest you get into position and do not move again. Do; I; make; my; self; clear?"

My lower lip trembles as I realise there's just no reasoning with this man. Now he's threatening the maximum. What is the maximum?! And with my knickers exposed! It was just so; improper! "Sir. You shouldn't see..."

"I've seen plenty in my years as a professor in the Commonwealth, thank you very much! Your derrière will be no different!" He points back to the book. "13a!"

Slowly, I move back over the desk, almost shaking now. As I search for the new text, my eyes threaten to fill with tears, blinding me. "13... 13a. Corporal Punishment."

"Go ahead," Higgins says impatiently. "Read it back to me."

"The Headmaster or Deputy of this institution has the authority to issue and perform Corporal Punishment for suitable infractions." I shift anxiously as the middle-aged man grips my uniform and lifts. "Sir..."

"Continue," he intones remorselessly.

I feel the dress flip up to my belt, which unclothes an inordinate amount of my lower back, hips, and belly. As it drapes onto my back, I feel more exposed than ever. No man has ever seen me like this! My cheeks burn as I look back down at the page. "In the case of severe rule-breaking listed in Section 13c, it is the sole discretion of the Headmaster to punish said student in a state of undress up to and including..." I turn my head back in fear. "...on the bare buttocks!?"

Higgins folds his arms. "Now read 13c. Go specifically to the list of severe infractions."

Almost knowing in advance what would be there, I reluctantly read the last section. "Damage to property. Thievery. Fighting." Is this what her friends face as well? "Absenting without leave. Gross disobedience and dishonesty."

"And there we are." His hands move forward again.

To my horror, the rough fingers of the older man curl under my waistband, brushing the sensitive sides of my waist. I reach back to stop the indecent contact, but then I feel a sharp sting on my wrist.

"I said don't move, Miss! Any more disobedience out of you, and you'll get eight!"

I whimper as the knickers are summarily pulled down to my knees. Leaning over the desk with my bottom upright, I've never felt this helpless in my nearly twenty years. The tears finally come.

"A little regret at last?" Higgins leans in and pulls my face up under the chin. "Yes. Finally, it seems I've gotten through to you."

My cheeks have grown wet. There's nothing more I can say to deter him. As the older man studies me, he appears to calm a bit. My tears almost seem to have blown the storm of his anger away. "Please, sir..."

"I won't cane you six times, although you deserve it. You're not a serial liar, are you, Miss Watson?"

The use of my name seems to be an olive branch to my hopeful ears. I shake my head, blinking back the tears. "No, sir."

"Then, if you admit your crime and apologise, I shall give you three." He snatches up the cane and walks behind me. "Now get your legs together like a proper lady."

My sudden, brief hope of not being caned is dashed. Even still, I quickly follow the deputy's instruction in case I'm showing a part of me that's absolutely private. Just a moment later, I feel the thin rod rest against the sensitive skin of my cheeks, and a little whine escapes me.

"Don't keep me waiting. Admit to your crime."

This is so unjust. I wouldn't purposely tell a falsehood, but now I'm being forced to! "I don't wish to lie, sir."

"That's good to hear, Miss Watson, but it isn't an admission of guilt. My patience is wearing thin."

The cane taps my nakedness, and a moment of panic finally takes me. "I didn't mean to lie, sir..."

Whack!

The sudden stroke by the older man cuts off my explanation, and I give a sudden cry of pain.

"No, Watson! You knew what you were doing. A penalty stroke then!"

Whack!

I'm in agony! The second line on my bum is horrendously intense, and it takes my breath away. There's no choice! I have to save myself! "I shouldn't have lied, sir!"

Whack!

The third cuts right across the first two, driving pain deeper into my shaking flesh. The untruths come easier now. "I shouldn't have! I'll never do it again! I'm so sorry!"

There's no respite for my poor bottom. The final whistles in before I can clench, and it bites deeply. Giving a long wail, I lurch and nearly collapse on the desk. Barely registering that the older man had backed off, I try to get control of myself. The tears are flowing again, and I bury my head in the book below me. The salty drops fall from my eyes to stain the pages of the Conduct Book for future malefactors to see. After what seems like an eternity, my bottom calms to a throbbing that's synchronised to my heartbeat. Finally, I hear the command to stand and unsteadily do so. Reaching down for the white knickers, my rear stings horribly, and I hiss as I pull them over the injuries. The mustachioed man appears to take no notice.

"You will be confined to your dorm for the weekend. During that time, you'll give me two single-spaced pages detailing what you did wrong, which I will then present to Professor Moore."

My stomach twists. I have to admit this to the headmistress? "Yes, sir."

"You're dismissed."

More distraught than ever, I turn to the door and open it. Just as I cross the doorstep, the deputy calls out.

"And Miss Watson."

"Yes, sir."

"There better be no further incidences. Am I clear?"

I nod despondently. "Yes, sir." After closing the door behind me, I start to put some distance between myself and this horrible place. I'm not hobbled, limping, or anything like that. It's just an intense sting that flares up every few steps I take. My face is a mess, of that I'm sure. Yet the grounds are blessedly empty. There's no one to notice me wiping my eyes as I hurry to my dorm.

I have to find the others. If we can all get together, then we could explain things to Mistress Moore. Quickly pushing my way inside, I see several classmates sitting in the common area who look up. I feel their stares as I go down the hallway to my room. Pushing open the door carefully this time, I find my friends sitting on their bunks with books open. I take a step towards them. "Professor Higgins... He... He caned me!" I stand there, waiting for the expected shock or exclamation. The two roomates just stare at me, and then; they just turn away! "Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes, we did," Courtney says, keeping her head down. "We don't want to talk to you."

"What?!" I take another step. "But we have to! I fear Professor Moore might get into some trouble as well!"

I see Melissa turn her head a bit at that. Then she slams her book shut. "I have to go."

I turn as she passes by. "What are you doing? Did the deputy cane you too?!"

The larger girl doesn't respond as she exits. I quickly go to my best friend and kneel next to her bunk. "Are you mad at me?" Courtney doesn't look up. Refuses to look up. "Why?! It wasn't my fault!"

"Stop talking to me."

I could barely hear her. It wasn't anger. It was fear! "What did that man do to you?!" My friend just keeps staring at the book. She's not reading it. I can tell. "Please." I sit there for a moment, but she just stays silent. With my chest tightening, I whirl away, going to my footlocker. I have to get out of here! Grabbing my toiletries and robe, I go to the facilities to find some privacy.

There's only two other girls here, which is pretty empty this time of night. Going into one of the stalls and closing the curtain, I start to disrobe. I hurt. Not only my bottom, but my heart as well. To not be able to talk to my friends in my own room?

Now wearing nothing except for my knickers, I slowly and carefully pull them off. Twisting around, I try to see the damage. It's no good. I can only glimpse at the edges of the stripes, which are a mottled dark pink. They do contrast with the pure white of my untanned skin down there. Reaching back, I softly touch closer to the center. I barely contain a hiss as my fingers feel several raised welts right next to my crack. Turning on the shower, I adjust the spray to barely warm and carefully keep as little of the water from hitting back there as possible. Grabbing the soap, I start to lather my short hair.

I mull over what had happened. I've been caned by a man. A man who jumps to conclusions and doesn't allow for a reasonable explanation. He's seen me; almost naked. Naked enough. I try to scrub myself harder, feeling an icky sensation come over me. My hands travel to my breasts, which are not quite a handful. At least he didn't see these. Looking down, I stare at my slightly darker pubic hair and how bushy it is. Did he see that? I bend over a bit and clench my legs together. Reaching back, my fingers draw down, and I cringe. They stick out at least a half inch below my lower bottom. He had to have seen!

With the shower not helping any more, I turn it off to dry. I have to get my friends to talk about this. Shrugging on my robe, I step out of the enclosure to see my prefect brushing her teeth. The paler brunette glances over at me through the mirror but doesn't turn around. She reported us. Did she know what happened? I don't feel comfortable talking with her since she is always so standoffish with me. But; she is my prefect. Maybe she can use some influence with Professor Moore and get Deputy Higgins to see reason. Hesitantly, I step up to the sink next to her and begin brushing my hair.

Spitting out the toothpaste, Olivia rinses and finally turns to me. "So, what did Professor Higgins want?"

She didn't know! "Oh, Olivia! He caned me!"

Her thick eyebrow rises. "Caned you? Really?!"

"Yes! He said I was lying! But it was all a mistake! You didn't say I was fighting, did you?"

"Well, no..." She tilts her head. "He was very short with me. Carpeting Melissa and Courtney covered like that must have set him off. Oh, I'm so sorry!"

She actually leans in, and I'm taken aback momentarily. The cold Olivia wants to hug? I only hesitate a moment, and we clasp tightly in the empty room. I really do enjoy hugs, and the show of support from my prefect sends a deep warmth throughout me. "Thank you."

She nods but then turns her head. Someone else is coming. "Let's go to my room so we can talk in private."

I nod, taking my things with me. Following Olivia, we go to the head of the hallway and enter her dorm room. Having never stepped inside before, I realise rank does carry its privileges. To have a room all alone would be enough. Here, Olivia also has her own writing desk, an enclosed wardrobe, and on the far side of the room, a full sized bed. A bed that you don't have to worry about bonking one's head on. You could really spread out if you had a mind to. Olivia pulls her chair over to the bed and has me sit across from her. "Okay. So run me through what happened."

I briefly describe the whole sequence of events, and Olivia is a rapt audience. As I get to the point of Higgins forcing me over the desk, she interrupts.

"So he pushed you down?" 

"Yes. He shouldn't have, should he?"

"It depends. Was he rough with you?"

"No. Not really. He yelled a lot, and I just sorta gave in. Then he caned me..."

"Don't rush ahead, Kylie. I need to know exactly how it went down."

My forehead creases. "Is it important?" 

"It might be. If he did something really inappropriate, it could be a starting point for us and Mistress Moore. So describe what he did to you."

I do so, trying my best to remember. The cane. Bending over. Olivia prompts me, wanting more. As I talk, she closes her eyes, trying to picture it all. Then the intense woman stops me. She's very interested in a particular moment. 

"So he changed his mind out of the blue?"

"I was really crying. He thought I was repentant, and I had to admit what I did. Gave me four." 

"Just like that..." Olivia stares at me closely for a moment. "I bet that hurt. Having to admit to something you didn't do."

I nod jerkily and start crying again. Olivia reaches out to me and places a hand on my leg. "You poor thing. Do they; hurt?" She looks meaningfully below my waist.

Wiping at my tears for the umpteenth time today, I shrug. Again, Olivia's show of kindness sends a really good feeling throughout me.

"May I see them?"

"Sorry?"

"The bruises."

I draw back. "That wouldn't be; proper."

"I need to check them before they heal. If they're serious enough, that's another way we can get to the deputy."

I'm still reticent. My upbringing in a very conservative family meant that one didn't do this. Even in front of girls, unless it was for medical treatment. Still, Olivia did have a point. We're all adults here, and she's offering to help. "Okay, then," I say, standing. I turn and pull up my robe slowly, once again revealing to another person what few have seen since I was a child. There is silence behind me, and I grow nervous. "How bad does it look?"

"He could've done worse." 

She sounds disappointed. I guess my prefect was hoping for some serious gouges to really go after Higgins. "They still sting, though."

"I'm sure." 

Suddenly, I feel a light touch on the outer curve of my bottom, just at the edge of a welt. I whirl away, dropping my robe. "Olivia?!"

The twenty-one-year-old blinks as if coming out of a trance. "Sorry. I just wondered. They felt hot."

In fact, where she had touched now feels warmer. It should have hurt, but... No. A touch that improper shouldn't feel that good. Olivia is obviously deep in thought, so I take a moment to grab my knickers and put them on.

"Melissa and Courtney must have lied."

"What?"

"It's the only explanation. They pinned blame on you to avoid the harsh punishment you got."

I glance back in the direction of my room. "They wouldn't..."

"Oh? All they got was rubbish duty for two days."

"What?!"

"Think about it. Higgins obviously thought you were the one at fault. All they had to say was something like you poured talcum on them to stop the fight. I'd already told him before he interviewed them that you were holding the bottle. Put it together, Kylie."

"I just can't believe it. Courtney and I are good friends!"

Olivia shakes her head. "Maybe not. Now that you're going to be the next prefect and all."

I suddenly tense. "You're not supposed to know."

"You wouldn't think Mistress Moore said something? Especially since you're to supplant me?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how you would react."

Olivia shrugs. "I'm a big girl. But you have a lot to learn if you want to be a prefect. The first thing is all the jealousy."

"You're; jealous?"

"No. From your classmates. They were probably treating you like a dag for the last few weeks."

I think back. The casual teasing. The rolling of eyes when I tried to help with class work. Was that somehow jealousy? Were they envious of how easily things came to me? "It can't be. I've known them for over a year."

"I've had to deal with it all this term, Kylie." She takes my hand. "We're in this together. You don't have to take my word for it. Go back to your room, and you'll see."

I look down at her hand, holding mine softly. It's so nice. Nodding, I leave her room, trying to sort out my unsettled feelings. Going back into the bathroom, I get my nightwear on. The long, thin gown is perfect for the heat and just enough for the cooler mornings. Finally done with getting ready for bed, I return to my room and open the door slowly.

Both of my friends are back, but they only look at me cursorily. Packing everything away, I notice how quiet it is. They won't even talk with each other. Growing more uncomfortable by the moment, I plop down on the bunk. It's too early for sleep. Normally, we would be gossiping or talking about what we will be doing once we got out of this backwater. Now the silence is deafening.

My thoughts drift back to when I was sent here. Headmistress Moore came to visit my parents. Said I was selected for a new school free of cost. A short week after graduation, I find myself on a train way out in the middle of nowhere. It's isolated with no distractions, that's for sure, and yet Moore had taken me under her wing. I had praise from all of my teachers. A couple of close friends. That's until just a few hours ago. Everything suddenly seems to have flipped inside out, revealing an ugly reality to me. Laying on my back, I listen to them scribble in notebooks. Ignoring me. Ignoring each other. There's nothing to do but listen to a fan stir the air.

"I'm turning out the light."

Courtney finally says something. Maybe she's hoping sleep will be better than just acting like you're getting work done. With a click, the small room goes dark. My eyes remain open, seeing nothing but a thin line of faint light under the door. I feel so alone. I still hurt. Not my bottom as much as my heart. I really need comfort. Companionship. Especially now.

Rolling out of bed, I go to the door and open it. Looking back, I see Courtney staring at me. Who cares? Tears threaten to blind me again. I guess I really do. I close the door behind me anyway. With only the faintest idea of what I'm doing, I go back to the door at the end of the hall. Raising my hand, I freeze. I really shouldn't.

The door opens, and Olivia is there. Her sardonic expression says it all. I shrug halfheartedly. "Could we talk some more?"

The brunette reaches for my shoulder, drawing me inside. Again, I feel very strange with Olivia showing this much kindness. Yet her touch is welcome, and that sense of well-being comes over me again. I almost don't want her to let go. She doesn't.

"You look tired, Kylie," she says, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Rest here tonight."

I look down at the big bed. It did look so comfortable. "Where will you sleep?"

She smiles endearingly. "Why here, of course. Mistress Moore isn't about."

"But; we can't share a bed. It would be..."

"Improper? Kylie, you've just been through a lot." She takes both my hands. "You need company at a time like this."

I turn my head and see two pillows. There's more than enough space if we were careful not to touch. And besides, both of us are wearing our nightshirts and knickers. I feel her gentle tug and begin to follow, not really resisting. She enters the bed and scoots over, holding the sheet up for me to follow. I slowly slide in and try not to look too uncomfortable. The lamp clicks off.

Lying on my back in near total darkness, I hear Olivia shifting around and getting situated. I keep my arms and legs close, and there seems to be just enough room. Slowly, I relax a bit, but I know sleep is a long way away. The stinging of my bottom has faded to a mild tingling, but it's only getting worse as I lay on it. Turning away from Olivia, the pain recedes.

"Try to sleep, Kylie."

"I'll try."

The bed shifts, and her voice is closer. "It's okay. Nothing bad will happen here."