He stared at me from beneath his spectacles and said he was disappointed. I couldnt imagine what he was going to tell me now. As the rest of the students cleared the classroom, I packed my bag and walked towards his office, connected to the front of the class. I was so nervous: Ive never been in real trouble before for anything. I always respected authority figures, refusing to do anything that would make them angry. And now this was happening. I cracked the door open. He was sitting there in his rolling chair behind his desk checking something on his computer. I knocked slightly on the door. His eyes popped up and met my gave. Ah…Miss Mason. Looks like we have some sorting out to do, dont we? I awkwardly let out a small laugh, but it didnt seem like he was amused by his statement. He motioned for me to sit at the chair across from him, and I did. Lets look at those grades, shall we? He opened up a document on his computer, and scrolled through rows of As, Bs and Cs…until he found. ‘The tawse! My lovely tawse.’ I shouted. In my I was thrown back into my days at junior school, taking a test and determined to come top of the class. Three more fierce, thudding, fiery pains as the implement – yes, the tawse – it must be the tawse – seared my flesh. Then it was over. ‘Ready for the next one?’ he asked again. ‘Just a moment please, let me give it a rub.’ Again he took off the handcuffs to allow me to massage my sore bum. I was asking myself, ‘How can something so painful give me such joy?’ I found myself giggling as I took up my position and took hold of the back of the sofa and stuck my bottom out again. Oh God, this is the riding crop – the first one must have been the cane. Another swish, another line of molten fire, fiercer and more concentrated then before. Maybe this is the cane after all? Or does it feel different because of what had gone before? This time I did not cry out until I had tasted all four strokes and given myself enough time to make a decision..
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