Miss Elsa Svenson

Spanking & Caning in London with Miss Elsa Svenson


House Rules – part one

House Rules – part one



One of the things of which Miss Sven­son, head­mistress of Cams­ford House, was most proud was not the school’s rep­u­ta­tion for aca­d­e­m­ic excel­lence or high dis­ci­pli­nary stan­dards – both cher­ished as they were – but for some­thing more intan­gi­ble; what she liked to call esprit de corps: a spir­it of team work and fair play amongst the girls, a spir­it which, for Miss Sven­son, was exem­pli­fied by the annu­al com­pe­ti­tion for the House Cup.

Held over a week­end dur­ing the Win­ter Term, the four hous­es at Cams­ford – Drake, Hawkins, Raleigh and Grenville – would chal­lenge each oth­er for the hon­our of the Cup across six events, cul­mi­nat­ing in a cross-coun­try ‘hare and hounds’, held on the Sun­day. For this, the two lead­ing heads of house (or, more fre­quent­ly, their nom­i­nees) would act as hares, set­ting off in good time ahead of their pur­suers. This year, Miss Sven­son had not been sur­prised to learn that Miran­da Spears, the long-legged fifth-for­mer, had been select­ed as the hare for Drake.

So, here she was, see­ing off the hares into the dull light of a Novem­ber after­noon. Set over the exten­sive grounds of Cams­ford, the win­ner should come home with­in an hour and a half. All should be well and tru­ly home with­in two.

As the hares ran off to the cheers of sup­port­ers, Miss Sven­son chat­ted warm­ly to staff and pre­fects, and await­ed the return of the vic­tors. At ten to three, Sara Hodge, wear­ing the dis­tinc­tive green sash of Grenville, came into view and tore back over the line, fol­lowed by the first of the red-sashed Hawkins hounds. A cou­ple more hounds fol­lowed then, at about three o’clock, Miran­da Spears, the Drake hare, came into view. Although not the win­ner, she had seem­ing­ly evad­ed the hounds, and was greet­ed by whoops of delight from the Drake con­tin­gent. By half past three, every­one had been account­ed for and every­one had retired to the din­ing hall for tea.

Miss Sven­son went round the room con­grat­u­lat­ing Greville’s head of house, and her hound, on win­ning the Cup, before seek­ing out Drake. Strange­ly, she couldn’t seem to find Miran­da Spears, but she would catch up with her lat­er no doubt.

By five o’clock, Miss Sven­son had returned to her study to pick up mes­sages. She read through the list left by her sec­re­tary, not­ing only one unex­pect­ed num­ber: that of Mrs Sweet­ing at the vil­lage shop in Cam­ston. She picked up the tele­phone and dialled.

Her call was answered imme­di­ate­ly.

Is that Miss Sven­son?’ came the voice. ‘I’m so glad you’ve rung. I don’t want to be a busy-body or any­thing, or tell tales after school, but I thought I should let you know I think I saw one of your girls in the cof­fee shop here in the vil­lage; I wouldn’t have noticed her – she looked so grown up – except she was wear­ing some kind of a sash, and I know it’s the House Cup today.’

Could you tell me the colour of the sash?’ asked Miss Sven­son. Now, no doubt, she would hear it was the red or blue of one of the pur­su­ing hounds – gone dis­as­trous­ly off track.

Yes, it was orange.’

Are you sure,’ con­tin­ued Miss Sven­son, ‘not red?’

No, orange, I’m sure. Does it make a dif­fer­ence?’

Yes it does,’ con­tin­ued Miss Sven­son, ‘thank you very much for let­ting me know.’

She replaced the receiv­er and let her head rest momen­tar­i­ly in her hands: there was only one pupil enti­tled to wear orange that day, and that was the rep­re­sen­ta­tive for Drake house – it’s hound, Miran­da Spears.

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