The St Trinian’s Connection

Ronald Searle was a post-war British cartoonist who created the anarchic world of St Trinian’s. His cartoons inspired books, films and inspired thousands of role-playing theme parties. There is even a legendary London club night called School Disco that celebrates ‘The Best Days of Your Life’ and practices a strict schoolie dress code.

St Trinian’s was the antithesis of the Enid Blyton/Angela Brazil-type posh girls’ boarding school; its pupils are wicked and often well-armed, and mayhem is rife. The mistresses (as female teachers in Britain were known at the time) are also disreputable. Cartoons often showed dead bodies of girls who had been murdered with pitchforks or succumbed to violent team sports, sometimes with vultures circling; girls drank, gambled, and smoked. Not unlike the inmates of the Woody Back to School Unit.

The films were quintessentially English and considered quite risqué in their time due to the fact that the Belles as they were known wore shockingly short skirts, barely covering their bumbags.

I have not seen the recent remake of the St Trinian’s movies but I doubt that it will compare favorably to the glorious films from the 1960’s. Some things just don’t translate to the modern age and Chavs, Emos and Geeks do not have the same liberated and flirtatious charm of the wildcats featured in the original books and films.

In the late 1990’s it was strongly rumored that a certain very famous girl-band would star in a remake. Although this never transpired these three famous ladies inspired characters for the Woody Back to School Unit.

Unfortunately neither the films nor the books feature the St Trinian gals getting their just desserts but considering when this body of work was created it is highly unlikely that the characters did not spend a considerable amount of time bending over in the Headmistresses office.

In today’s extract from the yet to be published Volume 30, Malicious Intentions, Cat Cassidy and her chum Melons display some decidedly St Trinian’s-like behavior and suffer the consequences.

Pauline Gascoigne was a tolerant soul. She was a doyen of the minx-friendly element of the Brass known as the Liberal Left. Nonetheless, her level of tolerance did not extend to members of the Old Gal contingent engaging in a water pistol duel in the middle of the lecture room.

Pauline had lowered the lights so she could show a slideshow presentation with regard to the growing influence of China and India on traditional leading international economies.

Cathryn was listening intently. Her degree was in International Business which she hoped to use to good effect as she helped expand her father’s successful record label into new markets. She was extremely miffed when her concentration was distracted when a stream of ice cold water hit her in the lug-hole.

Cathryn squinted through the darkness. There were only three other gals attending the lecture and there was no question that the culprit was Melanie who was leaning back in her chair with a grin on her face.

It was common practice amongst the inmates of the facility to attend lectures loaded for bear. Attacks with water pistols, pea-shooters and catapults were commonplace.

Her aim had been perfect. Cat was wearing her hair tied back in a scrunchy so the thin jet of cold water had made direct contact with her exposed ear. It was just the type of surprise that could make even a gal as cool as Cat a tad tetchy. Cathryn reached into her satchel and dabbed her ear with a Kleenex. She glared threateningly at her chum.

Melons second salvo was even more annoying than the first. It hit Cat on the side of her neck, just above the collar of her open necked black silk blouse. Melanie had fired off a longer stream and before Cathryn knew what was happening water was dripping down the inside of the blouse. Cat was livid.

Cat did her best to look attentive and not fidget as the water slipped down her spine. She reached into her satchel again for some more Kleenex. There wasn’t much she could do to dry herself but she ran the tissue across her neck. She took the opportunity to turn quickly and glare threateningly at her best chum.

Melons winked at her, then made a gun out of her fingers and pointed at Cat, before raising her fingers and blowing. Cat scowled before turning back to face the front of the room.

It took perfect timing. Cat watched Ms Gascoigne’s rhythm as she paused between slides to turn to the room and take questions. If there were none forthcoming she would click on her mouse and then turn back to the projector, mind-mapping the next phase of her seminar before speaking.

Cat surreptitiously reached own into her cowboy boot and extracted an original hot-pink plastic Pisrool derringer from her ankle holster. Although it only held three-quarters of a pint of water and lacked the range or power of the Star Trek Phaser Special that Melons was armed with it was ideally suited for the clandestine strike she was planning. She palmed the loaded pistol and crossed her arms so her weapon was hidden beneath her armpits. She waited until Ms Gascoigne had turned her back, cast a quick look over her shoulder and squeezed the trigger as hard as she could, emptying the reservoir. With only three feet separating them Melons had no time to react and the spray hit her full in the face and hair.

Ms Gascoigne turned around. “Oh good grief,” she muttered.

“Alright everybody,” she snapped. “Rise to your feet and place your hands on your heads.”

Melons stood up. Her hair was dripping wet. The Star Trek Phaser Special slid out of her lap and clattered onto the floor.

Ms Gascoigne approached Melons desk and leaned down to retrieve the pistol. “A smoking gun I believe Miss White,” she said wryly. “But I don’t believe that anybody would be silly enough to shoot themselves in the face, unless of course they were an American vice president.”

Cat thought fast. She had no intention of giving up the valuable pink derringer. While Pauline was distracted by Melons she reached down and rummaged in her satchel. She extracted a cheap back-up pistol that had little emotional value and tossed it on the desk with an audible thud. Ms Gascoigne rolled her eyes.

“Alright you two pistol-packing yahoos go and get changed into clobber, I intend to absolutely cream you,” she told the two Old Gals.

Cathryn sighed as she threaded her red and black striped tie around her neck. She did not feel the least bit acrimonious towards Melanie. She had been annoyed to have her concentration so rudely interrupted but she also understood that Melons might have been mildly bored by the subject matter of the lecture. Melanie was studying medicine and economics was just a minor supplementary course she had elected to take. In Cathryn’s opinion relieving boredom by dousing a chum with a lug-full of water was a legitimate course of action.

Not that she particularly cared for being the victim of an unprovoked dousing but she accepted it as a consequence of the lifestyle of mega-minxdom that she had helped to create.

She shrugged on her blazer and went next door.

“You ready to be creamed?” she asked cheerily.

“Sorry about this, sis,” said Melanie ruefully.

Cat just winked and slipped her arm through her best chum’s.

Cathryn Cassidy slid her upper torso across the lid of the desk. She was not a particularly tall gal, standing five feet six in her stockinged feet, but she had exceptionally long legs. She pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet and reached over the desk and gripped the legs on the far side as low as she could reach. She felt the hem of her skirt being turned back exposing her compact behind. She sighed and waited to be absolutely creamed.

Pauline Gascoigne flexed the cane between her hands. She was inordinately fond of Cat and had the utmost respect and admiration for the Old Gal. For years she had watched Cathryn rally the spirits of the inmates, many of whose freedom had been snatched from them under the most spurious of circumstances. Cat’s own sentence had been covertly commissioned by the government to distract the Great Unwashed from recent acts of fiscal buffoonery and had a sparked a nationwide ‘Free Cat’ campaign.

Cathryn had refused to be fazed or intimidated by her untoward circumstances and had responded by encouraging the inmates to embrace a lifestyle of mega-minxdom. She had led by example and ranked amongst the highest echelons of the All-Time Big BUTT (the Bottoms Up Table of Troublemakers).

Nonetheless Pauline was duty bound to set her feelings to one side. She tapped the cane down and then raised her arm in the air.

Melons watched with expert eyes. Pauline was landing each stroke with perfect precision and accuracy, the sound of the cane rebounding from Cathryn’s bumbags echoed around the room, but Cat didn’t move a muscle.

Melanie was not surprised. Her relationship with Cat dated back to their days together at Dartington Manor where they had schooled together. Cathryn was already displaying her subversive nature; although she did not so much disobey the rules as simply ignore them as if they did not exist.

Patty Hodge had secured a position at the institution as the Mistress of Discipline and Cathryn was her most frequent client. Melons, who was no slacker in the subversion department, often joined Cat on her excursions to the office of the cruel martinet. Cathryn’s languid disdain in her dealings with Patricia had earned Melanie’s lifelong admiration and inspired her to take even the toughest of lickings with the minimum of fuss.

Cat pushed herself up from the desk. She seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that she had just been beaten bandy as she stepped to one side to allow Melons to take her place. She retrieved her blazer and shrugged it on. Cat reached into her pocket and retrieved a cigarette and lighter.

Pauline Gascoigne didn’t say a word as Cat calmly held the flame to the tip.

Melanie White took her time getting herself into the required position. She was relatively short in stature, standing barely five-feet tall in stockinged feet. She had to rise up onto tip-toes to spread herself across the desk. Pauline meticulously folded back her skirt and rearranged the tail of her blouse.

In contrast to the mythical proportions of her mammary glands Melanie had a pert, button-like behind. Ms Gascoigne tapped the cane down and then unleashed a scorcher.

Melons had developed a pragmatic approach to the cane. Long before her association with Cat she had already established a respectable reputation as a very, very naughty gal. At preparatory school she had divided her time between standing in the corner and lying face down, arse up across the Headmistress’s knee having her bottom smacked.

Like many of the Woody inmates she came from quality bloodstock. Her father was an internationally renowned heart surgeon and her mother was a well-known hostess who hailed from a long line of blue bloods.

Melanie had inherited her father’s brains and her mother’s beauty. Despite her classroom delinquency she graduated top her year and was enrolled at the exclusive Dartington Manor where she would team up with Cat.

In many ways they were opposites. Cat had been brought up surrounded by laid-back jazz musicians and was already considered by the other pupils to be the icon of ultra-cool. Melanie, by contrast, was a wild and rambunctious hellion and was permanently in trouble with the dames and the prefects. Despite their personality differences the two girls were inseparable.

In the early days Melanie got the cane more often than Cat but that would change with the arrival of Patty Hodge at the school.

According to records held in the Ministry of Education Patty had already demonstrated her penchant for creating mischief and mayhem inside the bumbags of her wards. Each year since starting her teaching career she had featured amongst the top five administrators of corporal punishment in the nation, which was an admirable achievement considering that her counterparts were invariably Headmistresses.

At Dartington she saw a window of opportunity. She noticed that several of the dame’s were reticent to resort to the cane but were constantly complaining in the staff room about the pupil’s errant behavior. Patty offered to help them out. It wasn’t long before she was officially appointed as ‘Mistress of Discipline’, and the whop rate at Dartington increased at a giddying rate.

Patty disliked Cathryn, who she considered a subversive, and Melanie, who she deemed to be a delinquent. Their bumbags were the most endangered.

Cat and Melons defiantly refused to be daunted by Patty’s vicious regime and perfected the art of taking their thrashings without flinching. It was a skill that had stood them in good stead throughout their sentences at the Woody Back to School unit.

Melanie concentrated on keeping her breathing even and her backside steady. She had considerable respect for Pauline Gascoigne’s skill with the cane but she knew that a world class whopping was a partnership. Melons knew that in order for the beating to go off without any painful mishaps such as low riders or wraparounds she needed to stay teed up perfectly so the Dame had easy access to the sweet spot.

Pauline Gascoigne had tremendous respect for Melanie White’s ability to absorb a world class whopping without any fuss. Certainly her buttocks twitched as the effects of the cane worked their way under the flesh into the nerve endings of her gluteus maximus but she put it up and kept it up unwaveringly. Pauline sliced the cane through the air.

Melanie pushed herself up from the desk and smoothed down her skirt. She pulled on her blazer and reached into her breast pocket to extract her punishment record book.

None of the three women spoke while Pauline post-processed the beatings. They each understood that the punishment’s had been necessary and that the matter was now closed.

Melanie and Cat sipped wine in a Woody friendly bar in town.

“Well she certainly laid that on thick,” said Melons.

Cat smiled. “She does good work. I think I’ll call Mark, he’ll want to see the stripes.”

Melanie giggled. “I take it you won’t be coming back to the facility tonight.”

Cat winked and pulled out her cell-phone.

“He wants to meet us in the VIP bar over at Monets for oysters and champagne,” she told her chum. “We’ll drop you off at the facility later. Let’s cut along, the seats are more comfortable over there anyway.”

Melons swallowed down her drink. “Bottoms up to that, sis,” and slipped her arm in Cats.

If you liked the extract go to the Woodettes Storefront and BUY THE BOOK’s! You will not be disappointed! Lol! Bottoms Up! Thanks for stopping by … RH

Don’t Forget – Free Chapters of the Woody Back to School Unit spanking saga are available at the Woodettes Publications Page.