Miss Elsa Svenson

Spanking & Caning in London with Miss Elsa Svenson

 
 

2012 Story Competition tenth entry by James!

King­sham Road ran along the front perime­ter of the High School for Boys.   To the left hand side of the school a gat­ed road led to the play­ground and a car park used by the teach­ing staff.   The main door of the school was reached through a nar­row­er gate lead­ing onto a grav­el path between the front lawns of the school.   Almost nobody oth­er than the head mis­tress, Miss Elsa Sven­son, came into the school that way.

 

The two win­dows of Miss Sven­son’s spa­cious study looked out across the front lawns, as did the adja­cent sin­gle win­dow of the small­er office of Miss Pren­der­gast, the school sec­re­tary. The two rooms were con­nect­ed inter­nal­ly by a strange arrange­ment of back-to-back doors that opened out­wards so that Miss Sven­son could bolt her door to be assured of privacy.

 

It was ten to four and the school day was end­ing, a boy stood wait­ing out­side the exte­ri­or door to the headmistress’s study. Miss Sven­son was out but Miss Pren­der­gast was in her office study­ing a file stu­dious­ly and inward­ly feel­ing a sense of keen antic­i­pa­tion. As request­ed, she had just read­ied the head mistress’s study for a “dis­ci­pli­nary inter­view” and assumed that the boy stand­ing in the cor­ri­dor was the object of these preparations.

 

The out­come of these inter­views was not cer­tain because Miss Sven­son had a capri­cious mind and could be unex­pect­ed­ly mer­ci­ful, but more often than not they did end with a caning.

 

Miss Pren­der­gast had put the boy’s per­son­al file on Miss Sven­son’s desk and pulled out the low junior school desk that was nor­mal­ly parked against a wall and placed it under the clock a pace away from the wall.   Many boys had turned to face that clock, then been instruct­ed to bend over the desk and grip its back legs.

 

Next had come the task she enjoyed the most, unlock­ing the cor­ner cup­board and tak­ing out the cane and pun­ish­ment book.   She had care­ful­ly placed the pun­ish­ment book on Miss Sven­son’s desk open at the most recent page and could­n’t help her­self read­ing the most recent entries: date, name, offence, num­ber of strokes admin­is­tered and the ini­tials of the head­mistress and a wit­ness to the pun­ish­ment.   She had stood the cane in its place out of sight by the book­case.   Last of all she had checked that there was ink in Miss Svenson’s foun­tain pen and placed the along the spine of the open pun­ish­ment book so that it was to hand if needed.

 

Miss Pren­der­gast had then gone back to her office through the back-to-back doors care­ful­ly clos­ing the study door but leav­ing her own door ajar so that she had the best chance of hear­ing what­ev­er happened.

 

After five min­utes the sound of Miss Svenson’s foot­steps could be heard crunch­ing on the grav­el foot­path, the front door opened and closed.   There was a brief con­ver­sa­tion in the cor­ri­dor and the boy went into the study with Miss Sven­son.   Miss Pren­der­gast sat strain­ing to hear but she could not make out what was being said.   She was tak­en by sur­prise when the back-to-back doors were sud­den­ly opened and Miss Sven­son entered her office.

 

Miss Pren­der­gast, may I ask a favour of you.   I am afraid that I need to cane a boy and unfor­tu­nate­ly the boy’s form mas­ter is not avail­able to wit­ness the pun­ish­ment.   I won­der if you would be will­ing to stand in?   It’s quite sim­ple you sim­ply observe to ensure that the pun­ish­ment is record­ed accu­rate­ly in the pun­ish­ment book –but do say “no” if it makes you feel uncom­fort­able.   Miss Pren­der­gast said “yes” and wor­ried that she might have said it a lit­tle too enthusiastically.

 

Miss Pren­der­gast fol­lowed the head­mistress into the study where the boy was wait­ing ner­vous­ly.   Miss Sven­son picked up the cane, faced the boy and flexed it thought­ful­ly, “You know why exact­ly why I am going to cane you.   It would have six strokes but you did at least own up, so your pun­ish­ment is four strokes.   I am sure that you don’t think your­self lucky but you ought to!”.   Miss Pren­der­gast watched Miss Sven­son and the boy with rapt fas­ci­na­tion.   “Face the clock and bend over the desk”.  The boy obeyed.

 

Miss Pren­der­gast heard the swish of the cane and was sur­prised by how loud was the sound of its impact on the boy’s tight­ly stretched trousers.   In turn, the boy appeared to be sur­prised by how much the impact hurt; his back arched and he hung on to the legs of the desk.   Miss Sven­son pro­ceed­ed with a steady rhythm –she did not make the boy wait undu­ly between strokes but nei­ther was she hur­ried.   Each stroke was giv­en with full mea­sure.   The boy cow­ered before the sec­ond and third strokes but the desk held him in place.   After the third stroke he seemed relieved that the end was in sight and tried to com­pose him­self by stretch­ing brave­ly over the desk.   The fourth stroke clear­ly hurt even more than those that pre­ced­ed it and he yelped loudly.

 

Miss Sven­son put her hand on the small of the boy’s back and said “Stay down”, then she talked to the boy by turns chid­ing him for his bad behav­iour and then telling him that she val­ued his hon­esty in own­ing up and that he had tak­en his pun­ish­ment well.   When she allowed him to stand up his eyes were red but he had regained his com­po­sure.   He was sent to wash his face and then go home.

 

Now Miss Pren­der­gast, let’s make an entry in the pun­ish­ment book, please would you wit­ness that four strokes were giv­en; I hope that you didn’t find that too dis­turb­ing.   Most boys’ behav­iour is improved by a few sharp taps on the bot­tom with the cane”.   As Miss Pren­der­gast wrote her ini­tials in the book using Miss Svenson’s foun­tain pen, she thought to her­self that she had nev­er had a bet­ter day at work and was flushed with plea­sure as she returned to her office.

 

There was a spring in her step as she locked her office door and walked to the bus stop to catch the bus home.   Sit­ting upstairs on the bus, the details of the can­ing ran through Miss Prendergast’s mind like scenes from a favourite movie.

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