World Class Whops

In today’s extract from the Woody Back to School Unit saga we find the beleaguered bumbags of our old friend Debs Morton in yet another disagreeable situation.

Debs disconsolately peeled off her new red blazer and hung it over the back of the chair. She bent forward at the waist and slithered her upper torso across the desk. She slid further and further over the lid of the desk until she was bent over as far as humanly possible, her hands gripping the legs of the desk close to the floor.

Pauline Gascoigne sighed. She reached forward and neatly turned back the hem of Deborah’s short black skirt. Pauline tapped the cane down on the new Deputy Red-shirts tautened bumbags to get her measure then raised her arm in the air. She had a momentary feeling of déjà vu.

When she had risen in the morning Ms Gascoigne had never imagined that history would repeat itself. Precisely twelve months earlier during the first tutorial of the previous year she had been forced to deliver a caning to another prefect, Miss Claire Brooks. Now after just thirty minutes of the formal start to the educational curriculum she had the Deputy Red-shirts bumbags in her sights.

Pauline and Debs were tight. Their friendship dated back to their schooldays at Queensgate. However, they also had a long record of disciplinary encounters.

During the year that Pauline had fulfilled the role as the President of Posh she had been forced to cane Deborah on nineteen occasions, which at the time was a school record. Nonetheless, they continued to remain friends and Pauline had dined with Deborah on the eve of her famously public arrest by the Dark Agents. When Deborah was sentenced to serve hard time at the Big House they had made a pact that their friendship would not interfere with Woody business. Deborah’s first spanking in a lecture hall was delivered with her stretched out across Pauline’s knees. Over the coming years Pauline had caned Debs a dozen times, including the infamous first ever Absolute Creaming.

Pauline Gascoigne was generally a tolerant soul. She understood that the inmates found the first week back in the lecture room’s quite difficult. The new prefects were no exception and she had accommodated a reasonable amount of levity and jocularity during the first few minutes of the lecture. Nonetheless there was work to be done and she gently chided Jojo, Debs, Nixdown and Rosemary to settle down. She was mildly irritated when Deborah continued to try to distract her chums and issued her a second verbal warning. When Debs continued to cause distractions Pauline showed her a yellow card. For the next fifteen minutes Deborah appeared to heed the warning and huddled over her books. Then, to Pauline’s dismay, for reasons après pos of nothing, Deborah rolled up a piece of silver paper and flicked it across the room in the direction of Nixdown.

Pauline sighed wearily and snatched down her cane.

Debs was defenseless. She was up on the balls of her feet, her backside in the most prominent position possible and most of her upper body was dangling over the far side of the desk. There was nothing she could do but grit her teeth and wait for all hell to break loose in her bumbags.

Debs head reared back and her mouth contorted into a silent howl as the cane sliced across her tautened bumbags.

Jojo, Nixdown and Rosemary exchanged glances. As distinguished aficionados of whops they nodded their heads sagely and silently concurred that things did not look good for their chum. The first stroke had been a genuine smoker and they knew from experience that Pauline Gascoigne wasn’t in the habit of slowing down any as a caning progressed. It was clear that when she had promised Debs that she intended to absolutely cream her she was deadly serious.

Deborah hung panting across the desk waiting for the arrival of the second swipe. She had the highest regard for Pauline’s ability with the cane and the power of the crucial and telling first stroke was all the confirmation that she required to acknowledge that she had foolishly managed to once again embroil her bumbags in a world class whopping.

Pauline flexed the cane between her hands, taking her time. She tapped the cane down and then sliced it through the air. It was another absolute scorcher and the sound of rattan rebounding off navy blue gossamer echoed around the room and out into the corridors.

In the lecture rooms all along the hallway the Dames had fallen silent as they listened to the rifle shots ricocheting down the hallway.

Debs squeezed her eyes tight. The spasms that wracked her body were positively seismic and she rather fancied that she could hear her flesh sizzling. She let her breath out in a long whistle and did her best to settle in to the rhythm of the whops.

Pauline swung the cane with grace and elegance. It whistled ominously through the air before landing with a rotund report. At the moment of scalding impact Deborah’s body jerked spastically and her leg crooked back. She slumped forward panting as the stroke started its ricocheting voyage around her central nervous system, electrifying her from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. All the while the pain of the stripe across her bottom was intensifying towards a crescendo, making her buttocks squirm and twitch. Pauline was leaving thirty seconds between strokes to allow Deborah to fully appreciate the amalgamation of the effects.

Debs licked her lips and steadied herself as the wave of pain subsided slightly. She gritted her teeth and braced herself and waited for the arrival of the next world class whop.

Deborah’s chums watched in awe. There was no question that they were witnessing a consummate performance by both participants. It was clear that Debs was receiving an extremely sound thrashing but she had put it up and was keeping it up. Not that she had a lot of choice; she was so far over the desk that her backside was naturally teed up to perfection. Nonetheless, aside from the odd flick of an ankle and a twitch and squirm of her buttocks she was showing no sign of the terrible discomfort she must be in.

Pauline took a deep breath and stepped in. She was pleased with the way the beating was progressing. There was no question that thrashing the new Deputy Red-shirt on the first formal day of the year was an extremely serious business. She had no concerns about completing the paperwork and was confident that Deborah would concur that the caning was justified and carried out in the most professional of manners. She carefully took her measure, she was determined there would be no mistakes.

Delivered perfectly across the center of the sweet spot it almost raised Debs heels clean out of her shoes.

While she waited for Debs to experience the majesty of the whop Pauline Gascoigne adjusted her stance, setting herself up at a slight angle.

Debs did her best to collect herself. Five down and one to go and she knew that things were just about to get a whole lot tougher. She felt as if she had been thoroughly smoked and was just about to be finished off on the grill. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the closer.

By any standards it was a world class whop. A perfectly delivered five stroke that sliced diagonally across the previous five stripes to produce a five-bar gate. Deborah’s shoulders shuddered and her head shook from side to side. The pain was excruciating but she gripped the legs of the desk with all her strength and clenched her teeth tightly. “It will pass! It will pass!” she told herself as the waves of agony almost overwhelmed her. She hung her head down and tried to catch her breath. It was over.

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