I’m just out of the hospital after surgery so this will be short. It’s another excerpt from a work in progress called Uncle Henry and The Willows Academy.
The next morning, they were given different clothing. This time it was a juvenile-looking school uniform that included a top with a broad square collar having ends that tied together in a knot, and a pleated skirt that ended well above the knee, scandalously short for a schoolgirl uniform. Then they were ushered downstairs, through a hallway and into a room decked out as a classroom. It looked like the classrooms Libby recalled from her early childhood with wooden desks, a blackboard, and a big desk for the teacher at the front.
A woman entered. The other girls rose quickly and in unison said, “Good morning, Mrs. Green.” Mrs. Green wore an ankle length skirt fastened at the waist with a broad belt and a white silk blouse with ruffles. Her dark hair was coiled atop her head in a severe bun. Libby put her age at around thirty, not that much older than her pupils.
“Good morning, children. I see we have two new students today. Please stand and introduce yourselves to the class.”
Libby and Amanda stood and identified themselves. Libby didn’t miss Amanda’s wince as she sat down.
The class was conducted in a ridiculously juvenile fashion as far as Libby was concerned. They were given reading assignments, but the assignments were insipid. They were supposed to memorize nursery rhymes, of all things. Mrs. Green announced that they would be called upon to recite soon, so they had better apply themselves. Libby noticed a distinct tension in the air as soon as she made this announcement, and wondered what that meant. Clearly some of the girls were nervous about it.
Then she found out why they were nervous. In the afternoon they had visitors. Mrs. Willows entered the classroom accompanied by two other gentlemen. Libby could tell they were prosperous men. Their clothing was stylish, impeccable, and most importantly, expensive. Libby had no idea who these men were. Mrs. Willows identified them as members of the school’s Board of Governors. They sat in the back, along the wall, smiling and seemingly eager to witness what was about to transpire.
Then Libby received another surprise. Mrs. Green announced that she would not be conducting the recitation.
“I am merely aiding a new member of our staff today, children. In my stead Mr. Sedwick will teach this class.” She gestured toward the door.
Libby gasped. In walked Thomas Sudbury. Immediately they made eye contact. Sudbury looked at her sharply and gave a subtle shake of his head, an almost imperceptible movement which Libby took to mean “keep quiet.” Amanda turned her head toward Libby, eyebrows raised. She mouthed silently, “what in the world?” Libby shrugged, bewildered by this development.
“Mr. Sedwick is our new substitute teacher for several of our classes. You will see him from time to time, so be on your best behavior. Also,” and here Mrs. Willows’ demeanor turned stern, “he has full authority to dispense discipline including for poor performance in class, so be forewarned.”
Libby observed the reactions of several of the girls in the class. Sudbury clearly looked the part of the serious schoolmaster with his broad shoulders and dark hair and brooding eyes.
Some of the girls appeared fearful while others seemed intrigued, even excited. Keep your mitts off, thought Libby, suddenly jealous that other girls might find Sudbury attractive and worth making a play for his attention.
“Now then,” he said, taking a seat behind the desk, “let’s see how well you have memorized your lessons.”
Sudbury, now Sedwick, called on a girl to recite. She rose and in a quavering voice was able to recite a poem from memory, but just barely. The next girl was not so fortunate. She stumbled and stammered, and it was clear she had not committed the material to memory. Her name was Mamie Farnsworth and she’d been one of the girls Libby noticed who seemed excited by Sudbury’s presence. In her twenties, she was short and voluptuous with dark hair that framed a cute round face in a helmet style typical of flappers. Libby decided she was likely a playgirl who spent an inordinate amount of time in illegal speakeasy’s dancing to jazz, drinking and flirting with men.
“Miss, that is a very poor performance,” said Sedwick, shaking his head.
“Sorry, sir,” said Mamie, staring at the floor.
Mrs. Green jumped in. “I’m afraid it just won’t do, Mamie.” To Sedwick she said, “Mr. Sedwick, we punish poor performance here. We are very strict as you know. You will find the instrument of correction in the top drawer of your desk.”
The room went silent. The girls sat up straighter. Libby thought she heard some shuffling from the back where the visiting board members were seated. It sounded like clothing being readjusted. Suddenly there was considerable tension. Was there to be a public spanking? With these men as witnesses? Now Libby had to wonder if this had been the point all along. Were these men really on the school board of governors?
Thomas slid open the drawer and extracted a slat of wood. It was an eighteen-inch ruler, fairly substantial and hefty. He held it in his right hand and slapped his left palm with it.
“Please come up to the desk, Mamie,” said Mrs. Green.
Mamie came up and stood at the desk.
“For a first incidence of failure we usually give the student six strokes,” said Mrs. Green. “Come around to the front, Mr. Sedwick and I’ll show you how we do it.”
The faux Sedwick rose and came around to the front of the desk, ruler in hand. Mamie shrank back but Mrs. Green would have none of that.
“Bend over the desk, Mamie.”
Mamie bent over. Her skirt rode up in back. Being a little girl’s dress it was scandalously short on a young woman like Mamie. Her drawers came into view. She was shaking. Mrs. Green lifted the hem of the dress out of the way. The full womanly globes of Mamie’s posterior filled the child’s panties to the bursting point. Libby felt for her. I had to be horribly embarrassing to put herself on display like that.
“Stay in position, girl. Don’t flinch or it won’t count.” She turned to Sudbury. “Give her six firm smacks right across her bottom. Use your wrist, not your arm. You’ll find it very effective. Go ahead, sir. Don’t be afraid to put some steam in it. She needs to learn.”
Libby watched Thomas line up the ruler and give her a sharp smack across her seat.
“Ouch! Sir, please!”
“That’s it,” said Mrs. Green. “Five more just like that.”
Sudbury nodded. He placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her and doled out five more, slowly and deliberately. Her body dipped slightly with each one as her knees buckled, but she managed to stay in position. The sound of wood striking flesh through the thin little girl panties was loud in the confines of the classroom.
“Ow! Ow!” She wasn’t silent about it.
Libby saw her grimace as she returned to her desk and sat down slowly. All heard a sharp intake of breath as her bottom came in contact with the wooden seat.
“Now, we continue,” said Mrs. Green, “and I hope the remainder of the recitations are better because the next girl who hasn’t learned her lessons will receive more of the ruler across her posterior.”
“Mr. Sedwick, if you please. Call on the next girl to recite.”
Thomas looked up, straight at Libby. “Libby Hutton,” he said, “please recite Little Boy Blue.”
Libby rose on shaky legs. She gulped. “Um, Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, the sheep’s in the meadow the cow’s in the corn … no the pig’s in the corn … and the chickens are…”
She stammered around. Tried again, but it was no good. She didn’t know it. Seeing Thomas Sudbury come in and conduct class had unnerved her. What was going on?
“Well, this is unacceptable,” said Mrs. Green. “Libby, please come to the front of the class.”
Libby shuffled up toward the desk, her eyes on Sudbury. He had seated himself again and stared up at her, his eyes boring into hers. His face gave nothing away.
Mrs. Green folded her arms. “I think no less than a dozen well placed spanks on this girl’s pert backside should suffice. You may do it here in full view of the class, or you may use the cloakroom for privacy. Here in class the ruler is given on the exposed drawers, but how you choose to proceed in the cloakroom is entirely up to you.” A knowing smile curled up at the corners of her mouth. She gestured toward a door off to the side of the classroom, evidently the cloakroom.
“I’ll use the cloakroom, if you please, Mrs. Green.”
“Of course. We will wait for you to resume class.”
Sudbury ushered her into the cloakroom and shut the door behind him.