A ROOM WITH A VIEW By David
The blond-haired girl emerged from the building that housed the headmaster’s office. She headed across the quadrangle, the central square around which most of the school buildings were located. She was walking slowly with a peculiar stiff-legged gait. Her fists were tightly clenched and her arms were held tensely by her side. Her breathing was heavy and irregular. Closer inspection would have revealed a reddened face and puffy, red-rimmed eyes, the result of recent tears. She appeared to be struggling to control herself. It was clear that she had just been through a traumatic incident.
Conscious that she was in danger of becoming the centre of attention in the busy thoroughfare she kept her head down and increased her pace. A few of her fellow 6th formers were minded to ask what the matter was but were discouraged by her obvious disinclination to stop and talk. And a few seconds later she disappeared into the girls’ dormitory block and the opportunity was lost.
The boy in the upstairs store-room of the biology block on the other side of the school was also suffering from heavy and irregular breathing. In his case, however, the reason was obvious. For he could have been observed adjusting his underclothing, his zip and wiping his hands on a piece of tissue paper.
His state and hers were in fact the consequence of one and the same event – an interesting example of the saying “one man’s meat is another’s poison”. She may have been unaware of him, but he knew precisely what was troubling her. He had seen it all.
The window of the storeroom was the only place on the school premises which gave a clear line of sight into the headmaster’s study. He had realised this some months ago when he had been helping prepare some equipment for a biology field trip. He had idly picked up a pair of powerful binoculars and, training them on the head’s window, had been amazed at how clearly he could see inside despite the not inconsiderable separation of the buildings.
He had thought little more of it at the time, but events earlier in the day in question had woken him up to the possibilities. The girl, also an 18 year old, was from his form. She had happened to be chatting to him when the message had arrived that the headmaster wanted to see her that evening. When asked she said it was nothing terribly serious, probably just something to do with her having been late back into school the previous night. And there the subject was dropped.
It was during the course of the afternoon that he realised that actually this was likely to be a matter that the headmaster would take very seriously indeed. Ensuring pupils’ safety was known to be one of his primary concerns Only the previous week he had been overheard to say that the 10 o’clock curfew needed to be enforced more rigidly.
The more he thought about it the more he felt that the girl, despite her dismissive attitude, could be in deep water. And slowly the idea built up in him that this could be one of those rare occasions when the headmaster would feel that only the school’s ultimate deterrent would be appropriate. Despite himself he could feel his excitement rise. It was only an outside chance that she would be caned – he was unaware that a girl ever had been – but what a provocative thought!
He knew that the headmaster was reluctant to use the cane but, having decided to do so, made very sure that a salutary lesson was delivered and laid every stroke on with the full force of his arm. The boy was now starting to feel guilty at willing a caning to happen – he had no wish for the girl to suffer as he knew she would. But he could not help himself. For there was something else too. What really excited him was the school’s policy that, in order to enhance the effect of the cane, only that protection necessary for decency was permitted. He forced his mind to work step by step through the consequences of this policy. The cane was applied directly to boys’ underpants. The school made a point of treating girls exactly like boys. Therefore a girl who was to be caned would be made to present herself with knickers exposed. The reasoning was inexorable.
His excitement heightened as he imagined this particular girl in that predicament. For she was a very prim and proper young lady. With many of the other girls it was not unusual when sitting opposite them to see a flash of white underneath their dresses perhaps when they crossed or uncrossed their legs. Or to see a glimpse of brassiere when they bent forward. But not her. She always took great care to reveal nothing to the prying eye.
Would she really be caned? Who could say. But if she were to be, oh to be a witness! It was at this point that he remembered the biology store-room………………
He saw the girl enter the room, advance a few steps forward towards the window and then turn side on. He could not see it but he could tell she was now standing in front of the headmaster’s desk. Presumably the head himself was seated the other side of it. He focused the binoculars on her face. Clearly, a conversation was going on but what was being said was he of course could not make out. He could, however, see that she was becoming increasingly agitated. Then, a few seconds later, her eyes were no longer straight ahead but appeared to be following someone’s movements. Presumably the head had risen from his seat. The agitation then become more pronounced. She was shaking her head violently from side to side and he thought he could lip read the words “please, no!”
Perhaps 10 seconds passed and then she slowly started to take off her jacket. The boy’s heart literally skipped a beat and he began to harden in anticipation. Why else would she do this if not to prepare for being caned? And as if on cue the headmaster now came into view brandishing in front of him that very implement. Would he treat her exactly like a boy? And if he did how much of this would he be able to see?
Her jacket was now off and she was left wearing the blue dress that formed one of the options for school summer wear. Time stood still. His heart started to sink. If she simply bent over facing the way she was, then he was not going to get much of a view.
But what was happening? She was not bending over. Instead her hands had disappeared behind her back and ………… Of course, he should have known! The head was a great stickler for neatness. Boys always had to remove, not merely lower, their trousers. She, therefore, was being required to take her dress completely off!! He watched transfixed. She undid the zip and reluctantly slid her arms out of the sleeves. A white brassiere came into view as she did so. At first glance it appeared to be of the half cup design. Certainly a swell of upper breasts was plainly visible. She then quickly lowered the dress to the floor, stepped out of it and quickly held it up in front of her.
He was by now totally rigid with excitement and put down the binoculars while he eased his organ out. When he focused on the room again, he saw that she had turned, had walked to the back of the room and was hanging the dress on a coat stand. He now had his first sight of her knickers. They were just ordinary white briefs with a high cut design. She was a slim girl with almost boyish buttocks that were only perhaps half covered because of the V-shape of the knickers. They would offer little protection. The tip of the cane would almost certainly be striking bare flesh.
On the headmaster’s instructions she walked back to her original spot, and, facing the window, she leaned forward and clasped her ankles. What he now saw through the binocular lens was immensely provocative. She was bent over facing towards him. Her head was up so that he could clearly see the expression on her face. And, given that his vantage point was one story higher than the head’s office, he had a clear view of her bare back with just the thin strap of the bra crossing it and above that the waistband of the knickers. The strain of bending over had caused them to ride down slightly so that he had just a tantalising glimpse of the area where the buttocks start to form.
The headmaster walked back to the far side of the room, perhaps 10 feet behind her. My God, he’s going to give her the full treatment, went through his mind. And so it proved to be. The head skipped rhythmically forward, the cane was raised and came slicing down. The boy could not hear the impact but there was no doubting its effect. Her face contorted, her hand jerked away from her ankles and she half stood up gasping and shoulders heaving. After perhaps 20 seconds she bent over again with a fearful backward glance towards the headmaster.
This scene was repeated twice more, but on the fourth stroke her control, such as it was, broke. She leaped up and danced around the room, breasts furiously bouncing inside her bra, and hands clasped to her backside. Eventually she moved to resume her position, but the head must have said something for she stood up and turned to face him.
Now her back was towards the boy, and for the first time he was able to see the effect that the cane had. Four welts stood out on her white skin either side of her knickers, a dull red on the left hand side but almost scarlet to the right, the side where the end of the cane had struck. The boy was pleased of the respite while the headmaster lectured her. It was an opportunity to get back his own control and prepare himself to watch the next, presumably final instalment of the caning.
Eventually, she bent over again, and the headmaster resumed his position too. The fifth stroke was delivered, her head jerked upwards and her face screwed up. For a second she managed to remain in position, but then her hands flew back again and she jumped up. Another 10 seconds passed and again she turned to face the headmaster who appeared to be lecturing her. She probably was not even aware of what her hands were doing, but they were now in fact inside her knickers, directly massaging the affected areas. As a consequence the waistband had further eased itself downwards so that most of her buttocks were visible in the centre of the binocular’s field of vision.
Whatever might have happened after that – presumably she received a sixth and final stroke – the boy could not say. For at this point he found himself having to give full attention to what was happening to himself. When he was next able to revert his attention to the study, he saw the headmaster in the throes of leaving the room, leaving her to recover herself as best she could. One more tantalising view of her in her underwear and then the dress was being put back on again. Eventually she left the room too.
And so it was perhaps half a minute later that he saw through the binoculars the sight that had momentarily caught the attention of others in the quadrangle. A blond-haired girl emerging from the building that housed the headmaster’s office and walking slowly with a peculiar stiff-legged gait