textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/slope.txt

The slippery slope (1/2)

Jennifer was going through a rebellious phase both at 
school and home.  She was thirteen years old - a typical 
age for trouble to start.  Perhaps most significantly, 
she had her first serious boyfriend, and he was a real 
tearaway who was quickly leading her into activities that 
she would never have dreamed of.

She started cutting an odd class at school to meet with 
him and then played truant for whole days.  Her father 
found out and grounded her.  That didn't work so he 
stopped her allowance.  For a few days that seemed to 
have given her a bit of a shock, but then despite the 
fact hat he'd even resorted to threatening her with his 
thick leather belt if she was reported truanting again, 
she agreed to meet up with David in town rather than go 
to school.

They went and had a coffee first and then she told him 
about getting her allowance stopped and he told her how 
to get 'round that one.  Apparently he had done it before 
and it was easy.  Although she tried not to show it, she 
was initially horrified at the idea of shoplifting; it 
took him a while to convince her that it would be okay.  
He knew a second hand shop where they could get cash for 
the right sorts of good and which didn't ask questions.  
They wouldn't need to take any risks; they had as much 
time as they needed to find an opportunity to take 
something when they were sure that they weren't being 
watched.  It would be exciting

With butterflies in her stomach, Jennifer agreed, and 
they set off to find a suitable 'soft' target.  The first 
actual 'hit' was a small record shop.  There was only one 
person working in the shop and a couple of customers, so 
David decided it was ideal.  He instructed Jennifer to 
fasten her anorak around her to make it less obvious that 
she wore a school uniform.  He explained that this was 
for two reasons, firstly that they would look like 
obvious potential shoplifters if they flaunted the fact 
that they should have been in school, and second because, 
in the unlikely event of having to do a runner, it 
wouldn't be a good idea to have anyone recognise the 
uniform and 'phone their schools to report that someone 
from the school had been in town shoplifting.

They browsed casually around the shop for several 
minutes, never getting very far in from the door.  Then 
there came a moment when there were no customer nearby, 
and the assistant had to go to the shelving behind the 
counter to find a record for somebody.  In a second, 
David grabbed half a dozen tapes, stuffed them in his 
pockets, and they walked calmly out of the shop.  Even up 
to the time they were several shop lengths away, Jennifer 
expected to hear a shout, but nothing happened.  She felt 
quite exhilarated by the adrenaline high that the 
escapade had brought about.

David was quite please - half a dozen new tapes from 
popular groups that would be really easy to get some cash 
for.  Before then 'though he wanted to get a few more 
items, so they looked for another shop to target.  This 
time it was going to be Jennifer's turn to make the grab 
and she felt quite excited at the thought.  They selected 
an electrical goods store in the end and began browsing 
to see what would be worth pinching.  Jennifer felt 
herself blushing all over and her legs felt hot under her 
tights.  She felt sure that others must have noticed her, 
but gradually she realised that nobody else was in the 
least interested.

Near to the door there was a dump-bin with a cheap 
quality of personal hi-fi piled up inside it - in quiet 
conversation they agreed that a couple of those would be 
very suitable.  David moved nearer to the door, ready to 
leave, and Jennifer moved in to the immediate proximity 
of the dump-bin.  There were two assistants but the one 
was dealing with a customer complaint and was totally 
preoccupied, so when the other had to go off the shop 
floor to get something for a customer, Jennifer decided 
that this was the right moment to move.  There was a 
middle aged women looking at hair dryers but she was busy 
reading the box, and there was nobody else around at all.  
Jennifer tried to move as calmly and casually as 
possible, to avoid attracting attention..  She picked up 
one of the personal hi-fis apparently to examine the box, 
and then with one final glance she pushed it up under her 
jacket.  Nobody reacted at all, so she moved to put her 
back to the counter, picked up two more of the boxes and 
pushed them under her anorak and headed for the door.

She saw David starting to move off, and she had one hand 
on the door when she felt a sudden grip on her shoulder.  
She turned in panic, and as she did so one of the 
personal hi-fis fell to the floor.  It was the middle 
aged women who had been apparently buying a hair drier.  
She panicked, and made the decision to drop the goods and 
run, but she hesitated a moment too long and the women 
now had a very firm, painfully firm, grip on her arm and 
she was being led back into the shop.

The older man, who turned out to be the shop manager, had 
just finished dealing with he complaint and looked 
surprised as Jennifer was led up to him.

"My name's Carol Winters - I'm a store detective at 
Hardcastle's Department store and I was in here to do 
some shopping during my break.  I saw this girl take 
three personal hi-fis from the bin at the front and 
conceal them under her coat as she made to leave the 
shop.  One fell out, but you'll find the other two are 
still there."

"Is this true?"

Jennifer desperately wanted to cry, but she also wanted 
to put on a show of bravado in case David could see her - 
she didn't dare look back to the door for fear of 
implicating him.  She shrugged and used her free hand to 
remove the remaining stolen goods from under her coat and 
deposit them on the counter.

"Well, thank you very much Mrs Winters - we don't have 
any security staff here so we're very grateful for your 
help."

"Well, it's up to you how you want to play it now.  I'll 
have to get back to work, but if you want to call the 
police, they know me and they can come and get a 
statement from me at work - I'll give you my card.  
Personally, I think it's best to always get the police in 
and ask them to prosecute but I'll leave the decision to 
you."

She handed over the card and in doing so released her 
grip on Jennifer.  Jennifer was paralysed with fear at 
the thought of the police being called, and as a result 
missed her one chance to try and make a run for it.  By 
the time she saw the opportunity, the manager had come 
around the counter and cut off her escape path.  The 
bitch of a store detective - fancy doing something like 
that in a place she wasn't even working! - left the shop 
and the manager, whose name badge identified him as Mr 
Collis, propelled her towards the back of the shop and 
through a door marked Staff Only.

Once there, he released her and flicked a light switch on 
the wall, although to no obvious effect.  Then he began 
fiddling with a doorway low down on one wall - the door 
was only about three feet high and was padlocked and so 
it took him a minute to open it.

"Right, well I haven't got time to bother myself with 
little thieves now.  You can get in there and think over 
your crimes, and I'll come and get you when I've got time 
to decide what to do with you.  Go on, get in there."

Hoping desperately that if she co-operated he might be 
lenient, she crouched low and struggled through the small 
door.  There was a short flight of stone stairs and she 
almost fell down them into the gloomy cellar.  It smelled 
terrible, and the one bare light bulb cast eerie shadows.  
It was also very cold and there were pools of water on 
the floor.  It was a horribly dirty place and she felt 
badly scared as she heard the door swing shut behind her 
and the padlock being replaced.  It was quite a large 
area as she discovered as she looked for somewhere to 
sit, which seemed to extend for most of the area under 
the shop.  Overhead she could hear footsteps but nothing 
more.  Everything was dusty and grimy and she wandered a 
long way trying to find somewhere that she could sit and 
await her fate.

It was when she was practically at the far end that the 
light sent out and she was plunged into total darkness.  
She stifled a scream, but she was now totally blinded.  
After a while, standing motionless, she started to think 
she could make out some shapes, and she carefully tried 
to edge forward.  Almost inevitably she hit her leg 
painfully on something sharp and stopped abruptly.  She 
tried to feel her way more carefully, but she couldn't 
really move safely at all, and in the end, she conceded 
and just sat down on the dirty concrete floor.

Now, faced with a spell of isolation with nobody to 
observe her, she finally gave in and began crying - she 
had never imagined things turning out like this when the 
adventure had started.  The floor was hard and cold 
through her skirt and the stench of the place was 
nauseating.

Time passed by.  Nobody came for her.  She eventually 
stopped crying although she still felt sick to her 
stomach.  What would happen if they called the police?  
She knew from hearing stories at school that the 
probability for a first offence was that you normally got 
a caution, but that wasn't guaranteed so she might have 
to go to court.  Aside from the disgrace and humiliation 
of that, the school would find out and would almost 
certainly punish her because she was truanting at the 
time, and was wearing the uniform - she knew of other 
cases where the school had expelled pupils for just such 
an offence.  Last, but by no means least, her father 
would kill her.  Well, not literally, but she had little 
doubt that she'd get a thrashing she'd never forget and 
further sanctions as well.

Still time dragged on and she began to feel forgotten.  
She had no idea of the time because she couldn't read her 
watch - trying to work out how long she'd been there gave 
her something to do which took her mind off the 
predicament she was in.  It had been around 11 o'clock 
when they'd entered the shop.  Eventually she reckoned 
that it must be at least half past two.

She felt very hungry and thirsty, but then the thought of 
wanting a drink made her start thinking of other needs as 
well.  She began to desperately want to use a toilet.  
She thought about trying to make her way back to the 
stairs and knock on the door to attract attention, but 
wasn't sure that she could make it, and not sure that 
they would come to her aid if she did.  She fund she 
could now make out shapes a little more safely and in a 
half crouched position, she slowly made her way to a 
corner of the dirty cellar.  Praying that nobody would 
come back at that moment, she reached under her skirt and 
pulled down her tights and knickers then crouched 
uncomfortably to pee on the floor.

To her disgust some of the pee ran down her leg and she 
began to cry again.  However, her bladder relieved, she 
used a hanky to dry herself off and then discarded it 
before pulling her pants and tights back up again.  The 
odour of her urine mingled with the generally distasteful 
smells and she wondered how many previous shoplifters had 
relieved themselves on this floor.  How many of the 
puddles that she'd trodden in...

She very slowly and carefully felt her way along the wall 
and so eventually she found the steps again.  So she sat 
herself down on the hard bottom step and waited.... and 
waited ...  and waited...

She tried to imagine what David would have done now - 
probably, if he'd got any sense, he'd have headed 
straight for school, to try to make it look as if he'd 
been there all along.  Secretly she rather hoped he 
hadn't and was waiting outside somewhere to see if the 
police came for her or she was released.  She started 
wondering about what her father would do - she had 
visions of him having to come to collect her from the 
police station.  It wasn't just the thrashing that she 
feared, although she imagined he would be livid and that 
she was going to face a serious belting, but it was also 
the lecture and the blame that she would be faced with 
for a long time to come.

There seemed to be less noise from upstairs and she fund 
herself straining to hear anything that could convince 
her that she wasn't forgotten and deserted.  However, 
when the naked light bulb came back on, she was taken by 
surprise and also dazzled by the puny light after so long 
a period of darkness.  She struggled to her feet, 
noticing as she did so that her skirt and legs were grimy 
from the filth of the cellar, as she heard the door being 
unlocked.  Then, Mr Collis was descending the stone steps 
to wards her.

"Well, had some time to think about your crime have you?"  
Stupidly, she hadn't planned what to say to him when this 
moment came, but she had to try to avoid him calling the 
police.

"Please, I'm really sorry.  I've never done anything like 
this before and I'm so scared now that I can assure you 
that I'll never do anything like it again.  Please don't 
call the police."

He snorted derisively.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're sorry now you've been caught.  
Unfortunately, if you get away with this, I don't believe 
you when you say you'll never do it again.  I think I 
have little choice but to let the police handle this."

She felt sick - he really was going to do it!

"Please, I'm not like that really...."

"Sure - let me tell you something.  Personally, I can 
think of better ways of spending my time than having to 
go with you to the police station, and then appearing in 
court to give evidence.  Especially since they're so soft 
on young offenders now that you'll probably be back here 
the next day trying it on again.  Personally, I would 
like to see you get a damn good hiding and that just 
might do you some good.  Given that the present way of 
thinking is more inclined to give you a warning not to be 
naughty in the future, I can't imagine that you won't re-
offend."

Jennifer wondered whether she ought to tell him that she 
was in for one hell of a hiding when her father found out 
- given that this seemed a foregone conclusion anyway, 
she might just impress on Mr Collis that she did come 
from a family that believed in strong discipline, and the 
fear of what might have happened this time just might 
have done the trick.  Stupidly, she told him.

She saw his expression change but he wasn't sure what to 
make of it, and having once started she was afraid to 
stop talking.  Perhaps, instead of being impressed with 
her background, she had just made sure that he told her 
father so that he could make sure she got the thrashing 
he felt she deserved.  She pleaded and begged and he was 
almost grinning.

"So, if I call the police you get thrashed, a police 
record, and expelled from school.  If I call your school 
you get thrashed and expelled from school.  If I call 
your old man you get thrashed.  Doesn't look like a very 
happy set of choices for you does it?"

She whimpered.

"Suppose I save us both some time and you some 
embarrassment."

She was puzzled - what was he getting at.  He explained - 
basically, he'd give her the choice of him calling the 
police, which had to be the worst imaginable scenario to 
hr, or else she gave him permission to thrash her 
himself.  She was shocked beyond belief.  It was awful, 
perverted without a doubt.

On the other hand, she wondered whether she had much to 
lose.  There was little doubt in her mind that he was 
making the suggestion partly because he would get a 
sexual thrill out of thrashing her, and that she should 
allow someone to get that sort of sexual gratification at 
her expense was pretty humiliating and frightening.

On the other hand, this way nobody else ever needed to 
know.  The only person to know would never be able to 
tell anybody else anyway.  There would be no long term 
implications.  She would never need to see him ever 
again.  Okay, so he would probably give her a damn good 
thrashing, but it wouldn't necessarily be any worse than 
what her father would do to her if he knew.  She knew she 
should tell him to go to hell, but she heard herself 
agreeing.  He went back up the stairs and she started 
crying, wondering what she had done, but she stayed where 
she was and waited.

It was a short wait.  He came back down with a piece of 
thick PVC covered mains cable in his hand, doubled over.  
God, but that was going to hurt some, and probably a damn 
sight more than her father's belt, but she still 
preferred the anonymity of this to having people know.

He told her to remover her coat and skirt.  Choking back 
the tears she did as he instructed.  Standing in her 
blouse, tights and knickers she felt really stupid and 
vulnerable, but he led her across to an old bench at the 
side of the cellar and told her to bend right across it 
and grip the far side.  It was a tight stretch that left 
her no room to move and she only reached at all by 
standing on tip-toe, acutely conscious of her bottom 
sticking out for him.

In a split second of action, before she realised it, he 
had hooked his hands into the waistband of her panties 
and tights, and they were around her knees.

She cried out, but didn't move.  He was going to get his 
pound of flesh, and no mistaking it.  She was mortified 
with shame, even 'though rationally she should have 
realised that in the half light, he could see very 
little.

He could, it transpired, see quite enough to get his aim 
right.  The first stroke from the makeshift whip felt as 
if it had cut her bottom in two.  By the second she was 
sure that she must be cut  and bleeding and was sobbing 
her heart out.  After six, it hurt so much that it was 
almost becoming numb to further hurt.  However, by taking 
his time, he managed to prolong her agony - each time, 
just as the worst of the flaming pain was fading, he re-
ignited the scorching lines of pain in her poor 
defenceless bottom.

After twelve, he waited a while and then told her to get 
dressed.  Oblivious now to her partial nudity she stood 
slowly and clutched her hands to her bottom cheeks , 
feeling the deep welts left by the flex across her 
buttocks.  Slowly, she rolled back up the knickers and 
tights, almost wishing she could leave her bottom bare 
rather than having it painfully encased in the clinging 
fabric, and then tearfully replaced the skirt.

By then he had returned to the shop floor.  She stiffly 
climbed the stairs and slowly followed him.  She was 
astonished to realise that the shop was now closed, and 
the time on the clock above the sales desk told her it 
was almost six o'clock.  She spent a moment wiping the 
tears from her face.

"Right, get out, and I suggest you don't come back in 
here again unless you want more of the same."

In some ways she wanted to run from him.  She certainly 
needed to hurry up home, because her father was going to 
wonder where she was.  On the other hand, she could 
barely walk with the pain in her bottom, and it was a 
very stiff legged girl that walked from the shop and back 
home.

On the way she started wondering what she was going to 
say.  In the end she decided that it was best to say 
she'd gone shopping with some friends after school and 
hadn't noticed the time.  That would get her a strong 
telling off, and maybe get her grounded again or 
something, but at least by admitting to a minor offence, 
it might save him speculating about something more 
serious.


The slippery slope (2/2)

"Where the hell have you been."  She was very vulnerable 
right now and flinched from the verbal onslaught.  She 
took a deep breath and made ready to try and lie 
convincingly, hoping that he would take her hesitation as 
being a normal sign of being forced to admit guilt.

"I suppose you're late because you've been kept in again?  
What for this time?"

She was thrown - of course, it was Thursday, which was 
the ordinary night for after school detentions.  It was a 
logical conclusion for him to reach.  If she stuck to her 
story about shopping after school, he might not believe 
her and he could ring the school to check, and in doing 
so discover that she'd played truant.  Thinking fast, she 
admitted she'd been kept in.

He demanded to know why, so she said something about not 
paying attention class and talking to her friend.  He 
wasn't convinced - after all, she'd obviously been kept 
in for about an hour and half, which sounded like 
something more serious than talking in class - perhaps 
she'd been kept in for missing lessons again?  She 
panicked - anxious to divert him from that line of 
thought - and said , in a shamefaced way, that she'd 
sworn at one of the teachers as well.

To her relief, he seemed to accept that, although he was 
obviously livid.

"Right, Jennifer, get up to your room and stay there.  
I'll be up to deal with you later."

She fled upstairs, almost crying again, with a mixture of 
fear of what was to come, so unjustly, and relief at 
having convinced him without needing to admit the awful 
truth.  However, once in her room, the dreadful situation 
began to sink in.

She hung up her coat and immediately saw the filthy state 
of her skirt and tights.  She spent several minutes 
cleaning those up and then paid some attention to her 
face and hair, she looked a bit less dishevelled - it was 
a wonder he hadn't noticed already.  Straining her ears 
she could hear that dinner was being served downstairs.

That was at once an opportunity and a threat.  In terms 
of the threat, she had missed lunch already, and now 
seemed likely to miss dinner.  She was hungry but the 
heady and traumatic events of the day meant that food was 
not her highest priority right now.  More importantly, 
perhaps, if everyone was occupied with dinner, she had a 
few minutes of guaranteed uninterruption.  She gladly 
seized the chance to inspect the damage, and immediately 
wished she hadn't.  Her backside was bruised with a mass 
of welts that looked like they would last for weeks.  It 
was not actually hurting right now, but it was very hot 
to touch, the ridges were still very distinct, and it was 
more than a little tender.

It was then that she began to wonder whether the offences 
she had just made up and admitted to would be enough to 
make her father think of thrashing her as well.  If he 
did, and he never had doe anything like this for years, 
what would it involve.  The last time he'd given her any 
sort of physical punishment, he had turned her skirt back 
and spanked her pants with his hand.  However, that was 
almost four years ago and he had recently been 
threatening to get tough.  She checked carefully in the 
mirror to see if any marks were visible when her knickers 
were pulled up.  The answer was that, knowing to look for 
something, there were a few traces of the whipping 
visible, but not much and there was a chance that he 
wouldn't notice in the heat of the moment.  On the other 
hand, if he pulled them up tighter, or worst still pulled 
them down altogether, then she'd have some very difficult 
explaining to do - there really could be no more lying 
then.

Of course, the other issue was how well her tender 
buttocks could cope with another thrashing if the worst 
happened, and her feeling was that she just about 
couldn't stand it.  She'd have to do anything, agree to 
anything, beg anything, offer anything....

Once she had tidied herself up as much as possible there 
was nothing to do but sit and wait.  It gave her plenty 
of time to think back on what had already happened.  The 
more she thought, in the harsh reality of hindsight, the 
more she decided that Mr Collis was a real perv.  She 
couldn't believe that she'd been willing to drop her 
knickers and tights for him to see her bare bum, let 
alone to co-operate with him whipping it.

Jennifer was, despite her apparently loutish behaviour of 
late, a very reserved and modest girl.  Although she 
fitted in with the current trend at school of wearing a 
skirt well above knee length, she wore one longer than 
most of her friends because she worried abut somebody 
glimpsing her knickers when she leaned forwards, or sat 
on a bus.  The realisation that she had, almost 
willingly, agreed to expose her bare bottom to a male who 
she had never met before and who was probably 30 years 
older than herself filled her with a feeling of self-
disgust and loathing.

At least these thoughts kept her mind from the awful 
question of what was to come, but it couldn't delay the 
inevitable.  At 8.30pm she heard her father coming up the 
stairs.

It wasn't a pleasant encounter - the already emotionally 
fragile teenager grovelled apologetically and begged to 
be let off any further punishment arguing that she'd 
already been punished by the school.  He told her that 
she had been given plenty of chances already and this 
time he was determined to teach her a lesson she'd really 
remember.  With that he unbuckled his belt and drew it 
out, pleased to see the look of abject horror on his 
errant daughter's face as she realised that he really 
meant to carry out his previous threat.  She started 
crying and pleading but he was past being inveigled by 
feminine histrionics.  He grabbed her arm and twisted her 
around until she fell forward across the bed - her skirt 
had already ridden some way up her thighs but that wasn't 
enough to satisfy him and he easily flipped it over on to 
her back.

She was almost wetting herself in case he pulled her 
knickers down, or noticed the few welts now showing 
through her tights at the edge of her knickers.  He was, 
however, more inclined to preserve his daughter's dignity 
than Mr Collis had been, and he left the knickers and 
tights in place.

Nevertheless, he was determined to do his level best to 
get the message through to Jennifer before she really 
went off the rails.  He coiled the thick leather belt 
around his right fist and then brought if down hard 
across the centre of her bottom cheeks.  She yelped as 
the belt loudly cracked down on her bottom, as much from 
shock as front he renewed stinging, but he wasn't moved 
to pity.  Instead he brought it down time and time again, 
setting her bottom ablaze, and she squealed and sobbed 
and begged and writhed to no avail.  Her contortions did 
have one effect - they caused her skirt to slip back down 
to at least partially cover her bottom, but rather than 
pause the strapping to remedy the situation, simply aimed 
a little lower so that a number of strokes landed on her 
insubstantially protected thighs.  When he stopped, 
breathing heavily from the exertion, Jennifer just lay 
there crying, her bottom and the backs of her legs 
burning terribly.

"Next time you feel like being cheeky to a teacher, I 
hope you'll remember this.  Now, get yourself undressed 
and go to bed - I'll be back in ten minutes to check that 
you're in."

She lay there crying for a few minutes more - paralysed 
by the ordeal as much as the pain.  But then the worst of 
the stinging began to fade and the sudden realisation 
that he might come back when she was undressing and see 
that there were some other marks on her bottom that could 
not be accounted for by the strap, motivated her to move 
quickly.

Her bottom was red hot to touch and she was more than 
horrified by the sight of the unmistakable red marks on 
the backs of her thighs that clearly showed through the 
natural coloured tights that she normally wore.  She 
undressed fast, slipped on her long night-shirt, and 
climbed into bed before he returned

***

She slept badly, her hands massaging her hot bottom 
cheeks and the memories of the days events going through 
her mind time and time again like a movie.  She was 
watching herself, half naked, being whipped in that dirty 
cellar by Mr Collis.  She was watching herself lying 
across the bed while the noise of her father's belt 
landing on her legs echoed around.

When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed that she was 
back in the cellar and that Mr Collis was whipping her 
and blood was flowing and then he came behind her and 
suddenly she was totally naked, and he had his hands on 
her chest and was forcing himself into her...  And she 
woke up perspiring.

The belting from her father had, undoubtedly, been far 
less severe than the earlier whipping, but in some ways 
it had caused her more distress.  For one thing, she 
would never see Mr Collis again, and therefore there was 
no threat of a repeat punishment.  On the other hand, she 
knew that if she stepped out of line, her father would 
have no hesitation in giving her another licking.  There 
was also the element of shame - she felt embarrassed 
enough at a stranger seeing her half naked, but, in some 
ways it was amore embarrassing to think that somebody who 
obviously loved her dearly had seen her behaviour as 
being so bad that he had no choice but to thrash her.

Getting ready to go to school had never been such an 
ordeal.  She managed to get a look in the mirror and 
confirmed that the welts from the whipping in the 
afternoon were going to last for some while.  There were 
three of four blood blisters at the sorts places, but the 
rest of the welts would also last some time.  There were 
a few places on her bottom where she could make out a 
faint image from the end of the belt, but these were much 
more apparent on the backs of her thighs, and there was 
no way anybody could think they had been caused in any 
way other than they way they had been created.

She found out a pair of opaque black tights.  They were 
not really allowed at school, but loads of girls wore 
them and nobody ever said anything.  To her great relief, 
they masked the marks effectively.  Nevertheless, when 
she reached the school she felt as if everyone must know 
what had happened, and as if they could see the weals for 
themselves.  She told a couple of friends, on enquiry, 
that she'd just taken the day before off, because she 
didn't feel like it, but didn't mention the shoplifting 
to anyone.  David went to a different school, so she 
didn't have to face him just yet.

However, there was another worry to face - she had to 
explain her absence to the form teacher.  In the past she 
had faked notes from her parents, but there had been no 
opportunity this time to get hold of a sheet of 
notepaper.  If she insisted that she'd been unwell, they 
might let her bring a note the next day, but on the other 
hand they might ring her home, and then she'd really be 
in big trouble again.

In the end she made a real mess of answering when asked, 
in front of the class, where she had been yesterday.

"Have you got a note?"  her form teacher, Miss Webb, 
asked her in growing annoyance at her evasive answers.

"Er... no, miss."  This was getting nowhere, so Miss Webb 
told her to come to the front of the class.  The 
intention was to have a quiet and discreet conversation 
to get to the truth, but as Jennifer hesitantly walked 
out, the general hub-hub of conversation died down so 
that people nearby at least could her what was being 
said.  Once again, Jennifer was aware that she was 
blushing all over, and her tights were tingling with the 
light perspiration that the fear was causing.

"Am I to understand that you have no valid excuse for 
your absence yesterday?"

"Er, no miss."

"And would you like to explain that to the headmaster?"

"No miss, I'm sorry.  It won't happen again, I promise."  
The form teacher couldn't know how earnestly she meant 
it.

"It certainly will not - if it does, I'll take you to the 
headmaster myself, is that clear?"

"Yes miss."

"Well, you know the school rules and the attitude we take 
to truancy.  It's a very serious matter.  I have to 
decide whether to give you a two hour detention next 
Thursday or give you the strap on your hand right now."

It wasn't much of a choice as far as Jennifer was 
concerned.  Detention was boring as hell but if it would 
have saved her from another dose of corporal punishment 
she would have gladly begged for a detention.  On the 
other hand, after what had happened last night, her 
father would be livid if his daughter was in detention 
again so soon, and she'd get a far worse thrashing from 
him than she faced from Miss Webb.

"I'd rather just get it over with Miss." She mumbled, 
very embarrassed about the whole discussion going on in 
front of her classmates.  She just hoped that Miss Webb 
would have to take her away somewhere - perhaps to get 
the strap from the staff room and give it to her 
somewhere like that where her classmates couldn't watch.

"Very well."

To Jennifer's dismay, Miss Webb unlocked a cupboard 
behind her and seemed pleased to find that there was a 
suitable strap there.  The whole class was silent now and 
they watched in rapt attention.  It was a fairly rare 
occurrence for someone to get strapped in front of others 
and it was especially rare for it to be one of the girls.  
The boys especially were going to enjoy watching this 
display although they might have preferred to it to be 
applied to another part of her anatomy.  She was told to 
hold out her left hand and to keep it very still.

It was the second time in her life she'd been strapped on 
the hand so although she was scared and knew it would 
hurt like blazes, she knew what to expect and if it 
hadn't been for the public shame it wouldn't have been 
too bad.

It was a long tawse split into two and Mrs Webb was very 
good with it.  The first blow sounded like a pistol shot 
and landed with the end of the leather tails right in the 
middle of Jennifer's palm.  It was excruciating but she 
bit her lip and kept her hand reasonably steady.  The 
second one was across her fingers and hurt enough to 
almost numb them.  The third landed in a identical place 
redoubling the pain.  The fourth and final stroke was 
back across the full palm again.  Jennifer fought back 
the tears and forced her self not to clutch at her 
burning throbbing hand as she walked back to her seat.  
However, she also walked back with her head lowered 
because she didn't want t meet anybody's gaze right now.

She didn't speak to anyone all morning.  It took about an 
hour for the throbbing pain to finally fade and her palm 
was still very red after that.  A few people tried to 
speak to her at morning break - one or two to sympathise, 
rather more to ask curious questions about how it had 
felt, and one or two (boys!) to tease her about it.  She 
managed to ignore them all and then went and hid for the 
rest of the break.

Sitting on a toilet she finally allowed herself to cry.  
It was strange - three beatings in two days - and she 
wasn't normally in trouble on anything like that scale.  
But what struck her as strangest of all was that each 
beating had actually, in terms of physical pain, been 
less than the one before.  In every way logically, the 
whipping she'd received in the basement of the shop 
should have been the worst experience of her life.  Yet 
in one sense, she had found the thrashing from her father 
worse because, even though he hadn't exposed her in the 
same way, or even given her such a severe beating, the 
fact that he knew her and would always be there, having 
seen her in that humiliating position made it worse.

Yet, even more than that, the strapping this morning had 
been terrible, because she had been shamed in front of 
her peers - the very people she worried most about trying 
to impress had seen her being strapped for truancy, and 
would have seen however hard she had tried to hide it, 
that she had been very close to tears.  She could calm 
herself down now, and by lunchtime she could try and put 
on a show of bravado, but deep down they would know and 
she would know.  The system had won - not her.  She'd 
been naughty and she'd paid heavily for it.  And it 
wasn't worth it.