Now, Grace was smiling. It wasn’t the nice kind of smile; no, it was the smile of someone who knew they were going to get exactly what they wanted. And what Grace wanted was revenge.
That morning at the Hardwood Academy for Troubled Girls had started like any other, with Mrs Evans and Maddie, the Headgirl, doing their rounds. Beds were to be made, rooms were to be in order, underwear to be inspected, the usual, important things. Maddie was holding a clipboard and ticked boxes beside each of the girls’ names as they went. Tick, tick, tick, the sound of her pen was precise and mechanical as Mrs Evans greeted, inspected, congratulated the girls for a task well done.
Hardwood Academy, it was important to know, was not a place were girls were sent to be punished. Rather, it was a place where they were rehabilitated. Punishment was a necessary and, to be quite honest, frequent part of the process, but it was not the goal; it was merely an unfortunate consequence of the lack of discipline the girls had endured in whatever past lives had brought them into the care of the Academy.
Mrs Evans, now a veteran teacher of nearly thirty years, believed passionately that she was giving these girls the greatest gift that one could: that of a second chance. Young adults as they might be —between 18 and 25, typically, though the Academy had been known to take in older offenders— these girls had, for all intent and purposes, wasted their formative years. Being treated as students again, being taught again, being disciplined, and being kept to account: it all was in service to their future.
And so, every morning, Mrs Evans’ praise was genuine whenever girls got it right. Genuine, too, was her disappointment when the girls didn’t, and firm her hand punishing such failings. This morning, so far, she had had nothing but praise to give. Tick, tick, tick, Angela had gotten it right, as she had for the past seven days. That would earn her a gold star, which Maddie dutifully noted on her form. The Headgirl was in charge of handing out rewards at the end of each week, something she enjoyed immensely. Mrs Evans had moved on to Petra, tick, tick, tick, and Juliet, tick, tick, tick, and so it went. A very good morning, Maddie reflected, looking at her sheet where every box was ticked. Even Rachel, the latest arrival, was doing well. She was on her way to earn her first Gold Star. Maddie was looking forward to awarding it.
The school, with its routines, its rules, and its harsh discipline, made the girl form bonds very quickly. Part of it was the shared misery of the punishments —sometimes very public, often group ones— but it was also that all of them had stories of hardship that few outside these antique walls could relate to. In being sent to the Academy, they had found peers and, for some, genuine friends.
Maddie had sighed, a happy sigh far from her past worries, and checked her list. Just two girls left. Anna and Grace. Mrs Evans knocked on the door of the two girls’ room, at the end of the dorm corridor, and entered. Teachers did not wait for a response, as the girls always needed to be ready for inspection. Knocking was a courtesy, privacy was a privilege, and privilege was earned.
Anna and Grace jumped up from their beds, and stood by them as Mrs Evans threw a quick and experienced glance around the room. The wan sun of the English late autumn wasn’t the warmest, but it shone nonetheless through the dustless windows. Its rays illuminated the small room, the beds well made, the two study desks with neat piles of textbooks, the newly-polished shoes by the door. Mrs Evans turned to one of the girls, Anna, and the girl turned around, lifted her skirt and bent over slightly to present her underwear. Maddie noted that welts were still visible under the appropriate white knickers that Anna was wearing. The Headgirl had been present for that particular caning the previous day. A sordid affair of chocolates that had gone missing from the communal pantry, and a trail of wrappers fallen from Anna’s schoolbag. Maddie suppressed a smile. Theft was a serious offense, no matter how ridiculous the object of it was, or how clumsy the thief.
Anna had been summoned to the Headmaster’s office at once, and Maddie, as Headgirl, had been there to be a witness to the discipline. It was one of her duties, even if it was far from her favourite. Before being elevated to her current status, she had been on the receiving end of many a punishment herself. Hand spankings, rulers, paddles, tawses, straps, canes, she had had close encounters with all of them in her first two years at the Academy. Many tears, broken promises, mouth-soapings, long reflections in corner-times later, she was now a model student, soon to leave the Academy and to go back into the wider world a better person.
Helping other girls do the same was a fulfilling duty, even if it was sometimes hard to bear. Still, having another girl present for any punishment ensured that there was never a risk of impropriety, and that the one punished would have a sympathetic soul to comfort her as soon as the punishment was over.
Each of the twelve strokes that Anna had received had made Maddie shiver. The whip-crack! of the cane, followed by a cry, the wobbling of the legs, the bright red marks that criss-crossed Anna’s bottom… It was impossible not to feel bad for the poor girl, and yet Maddie knew it was for the best. Even as she shivered (or was it a little envy she felt?), she couldn’t look away, mesmerised by the round buttocks quivering, getting back up for the next stroke. The Headgirl had pressed her thighs together, her hands wrung behind her back, her cheeks blushing red.
Maddie had walked Anna back to her room after that, and even offered to rub lotion on her aching bottom until if felt a little less sore. She kept a reserve of it in her room —an individual one, a perk of the position— just for that purpose. Anna had gladly accepted, and for the next half an hour, Maddie had gently rubbed and caressed Anna’s red, round bottom that she had been unable to keep her eyes from earlier. Maddie was glad now to note that the marks didn’t look as bad as they had done the day before.
“Maddie?” Mrs Evans asked, an eyebrow arched. The Headgirl snapped back to the present as Anna straightened up and brought her skirt down. Maddie nodded, blushing, and tick, tick, ticked the boxes in front of Anna’s name. Mrs Evans gently tapped Anna’s shoulder and whispered “Well done, girl…”. She turned to Grace, who hadn’t said a word and was keeping her eyes firmly on the ground.
“Now, Grace…” started Mrs Evans.
“I haven’t done anything!” said Grace, still looking at the floor.
Mrs Evans’ eyes narrowed, “No one said that you did, dear…”
The girl didn’t answer, her cheeks blushing. Mrs Evans let the silence hang uncomfortably, her eyes on Grace as Maddie and Anna looked at each other. The other girl made a little gesture with her head, looking down at Anna’s bed. Maddie raised and eyebrow and mouthed ‘What?’, but Anna shook her head quietly.
“Well girl?” said Mrs Evans, her eyes still fixed on Grace, “Something weighing on your conscience?”
“No Miss…” said the girl, unconvincingly.
“Mrs Evans…” Maddie started, “Do you mind if I have a look at the bed?”
Grace’s eyes widened, fixed on the Headgirl while Mrs Evans tutted and made a quick nod. “Go on, then, Maddie,” she said with a shake of her head, “I thought this morning would grace us with a flawless start, but it seems Grace here had other plans for us…”
Grace said nothing, still standing in front of the bed.
“Well, move aside, young lady,” said Mrs Evans impatiently, “and we might as well inspect your underwear while Maddie has a look at your bed.”
With a sigh, Grace moved to the side, turned to face the wall and bent over while pulling her skirt up in a fluid gesture that spoke to days and days of well-practiced routine. Mrs Evans passed a finger along the inner elastic that stretched across the girl’s presented rear, pulled on it slightly to adjust it. Grace couldn’t help but shiver, expecting to feel it being pulled further and it slapping back on her bare skin. Nothing happened. Mrs Evans didn’t comment either, clearly waiting for something. Then Grace heard the Headgirl’s voice, and her jaw hardened instantly.
“Mrs Evans…” Maddie said, “I think I found something.”
From her position, looking away and bent over at the waist, Grace couldn’t see what Maddie was handing over to Mrs Evans, but she closed her eyes in dismay and swore under her breath, knowing full-well that the damned Headgirl had found her—
“Cigarettes, Grace?” said and outraged Mrs Evans. It was not a question that expected an answer, just a statement of how disappointed the woman was. “I can’t believe it!” the teacher continued, “And you were doing so well…”
Cigarettes, of course, were not allowed on campus, and any girl found to be in possession of them —or worse, trying to sell them to others— could expect to be severely punished. Yet, as is often the case with prohibited items, there were always ways of procuring them, and there were always girls willing to take the risk.
Mrs Evans grabbed a pillow and all but threw it on in the middle of the bed. “Put your hands down on there,” she said tersely, and she gave Grace’s presented behind a slap to get her moving. Grace yelped and immediately did as she was told, pivoting to the bed and bracing herself on the pillow. She didn’t think to protest. She knew there was no point. She had been caught, and there were to be consequences. In a strange way, there was something reassuring about that certainty. She wasn’t glad to have been caught, and she would certainly regret it a lot more in a moment, but the anxious tension of the forbidden smokes hidden away inches from her could be hard to bear.
“Maddie, the hairbrush,” said Mrs Evans, and any thought of reassurance vanished in Grace’s head.
“I-I left it in my room,” the Headgirl stammered.
“Well run and get it, girl!” Mrs Evans exclaimed, exasperated.
“Y-yes Miss!” siad Maddie, and she disappeared through the door. The whole time, Anna had stood very still in the corner, and she was doing her best to stay quiet and not be noticed, lest Mrs Evans question her on how she hadn’t noticed the smell of the cigarettes on Grace and come to inform a teacher immediately.
Mrs Evans walked two steps to Grace and pulled her skirt down, them immediately started spanking her over it with her open palm, her other hand resting on the small of the girl’s back, pinning her in place. The slaps were heavy and loud, even over the skirt, and Grace, hardened as she was, winced in pain.
“Cigarettes,” Mrs Evans muttered, “filthy habit. And bad for you, as we’ll demonstrate…” Her hand fell some more in a staccato of pain, left-right-left, the metronome of a music teacher beating its steady rhythm on the bottom of the punished girl. But as stinging as it was, Grace new it was merely the overture, the prelude to the concerto and its wooden soloist, the hairbrush.
Lost in the metaphor, she jumped when she felt her skirt being pulled up again, her bottom warm bow under the white cotton knickers. That they had passed inspection would do little to help her case, and Mrs Evans was back to spanking her reddening cheeks soon enough. Without the heavier fabric of the skirt, the slaps felt more powerful, heavy palmfuls and stinging finger-tip slaps that stung like hell.
“Where is that silly Headg—” Mrs Evans started.
“I’m here, Miss!” Maddie said, breathless, and she help the hairbrush high.
Of course, this wasn’t just any hairbrush. It was made of a deep red wood, lacquered with care, and it was emblazoned with the crest of the Hardwood Academy, a grand Oak tree above crossed canes and a fleur-de-lys. Nobody had ever used it to actually brush any hair, but it was passed from Headgirl to Headgirl as a status symbol, and as a tool of discipline should they ever need it during a night-walk. Maddie had seldom needed to use it, and it had not featured in morning rounds in quite a while, since the faults that were found tended to be minor, and a quick but thorough hand-spanking usually sufficed. Today however…
Mrs Evans offered her open hand, and Maddie quickly shuffled over and hand her the wooden implement. Grace’s breathing was heavy with anticipation, her legs trembling slightly. Anna was still very quiet, unable to take her eyes off the red that showed just under the white knickers of her roommate. Maddie went to stand besides her, and grabbed her hand as Mrs Evans’ first swat of the brush fell on the misbehaving girl. The effect was immediate and stark, Grace’s hands tightening over the pillow and letting out a cry of pain and surprise. If the hand spanking had been vigorous, it was nothing in comparison to the wicked redwood that now danced over her ass. She did her very best to remain still, but her legs were buckling, her foot stomping, her head rearing back with each hit.
Maddie’s hand gripped Anna’s a little tighter as they both saw Mrs Evans stop and swiftly pull Grace’s white knickers down to mid-thigh. Tears were rolling down the girl’s face already, and all present knew that the worse was yet to come. Neither of the two girls could take their eyes away from Grace’s perfectly round buttocks, and they couldn’t help but glance down between her legs. Both girls had been in various degrees of nakedness in front of their classmates before, of course, and hey had long accepted that intimacy and privacy was not a comfort that they could enjoy during their time at the Academy, but there was something just so fascinating about it all. Mrs Evans turned to the Headgirl.
“Maddie, since you were kind enough to find the cigarettes for me, I think you should finish this,” she said, holding the hairbrush over to her. Maddie hesitated.
“Are you sure, Miss? I…”
“Do I look unsure, girl?” Mrs Evans said, and Maddie could see that her arm was trembling slightly. Age, perhaps? She nodded and took the offered hairbrush.
“How much…?” she said, unsure.
“I will tell you when to stop,” Mrs Evans simply said, nudging her head towards the heavily breathing Grace. Maddie stepped to her and raised the hairbrush.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered, and the swats that landed immediately made a liar out of her.
Grace very nearly let a shit escape her lips as the first dozen strikes hit her already tender behind. Maddie was not holding back, and the resentment that Grace felt towards her grew to hatred. Her left cheek was on fire, then her right, both peppered with explosions of pain that left her reeling. She bent her head low and clenched her teeth, tears fully streaming down her face and onto the pillow that she was about to tear in two with how hard she was gripping it. She moaned and cried, unable to keep silent any longer. The pain was agonising, and she hated hated hated the Headgirl. She hated Sarah, who had gotten her the cigarettes, she hated Anna, who clearly was a little snitch, she hated Mrs Evans, and she hated this stupid place. Most of all, she hated that she had been stupid enough to end up here. In the end, it always came down to that. She had been the one that had made all the wrong choices, she had been the one that had messed up her whole life, and she was the one who had landed herself in this mess. And so with each heavy impact of the hairbrush smashing against her sore bottom, she regretted her past mistakes a little more.
“That’ll do, Maddie,” Mrs Evans said after what felt like an eternity of agony.
When all was said and done, Maddie closed the door behind her and Mrs Evans, leaving Anna to administer some aftercare to Grace’s bruised bottom. The Headgirl had reminded Grace that she would need to have a follow-up punishment the next day, to which the chastised girl had only responded with a grunt. That had probably been for the best, as Maddie could guess the kind of thoughts that had been going through her head at that point. She sighed. Again, she had been there before. Being Headgirl wasn’t always easy, and she remembered well resenting the girl that had been hers in the past. Still, in the end, it was for the best of all. She trotted to Mrs Evans, who had started to walk back up the corridor.
“Do you need me for anything else, Miss?” asked the girl, and Mrs Evans shook her head. Maddie noticed that she was rubbing her arm. So she was in pain, she thought.
“It’s all right, Maddie,” Mrs Evans said, “I’ll see you in class this afternoon”
“Yes Miss,” Maddie nodded. Another morning done.
***
The day went by as most did, with little excitement to report. Mr Javeed, the business teacher, had to correct two girls —Gemma and Lilly— who had “forgotten” to write their assignments for the day. However, given that they both appeared to magically find their completed work minutes after being taken over Mr Javeed’s lap, Maddie suspected that both girls had a crush on the young, handsome teacher, and that he was still too naïve to notice that that had been exactly what they had been looking for. Maddie had to admit that the man was a snack, and that she wouldn’t mind having his hands all over her, but she had not pushed that thought quite as far as the two other girls. She made a mental note to make a comment in passing to Mrs Evans so that she might give the young teacher some warning. Still, there had been little harm, and the day had been a good one.
Back in her own room, Maddie thought back to the morning, and to the thrashing she had given Grace. Truth be told, she felt a little guilty. She rarely had to punish another girl quite so severely, and she had thought that Mrs Evans would make her stop long before what had actually happened. By the time she had been done, Grace’s bottom had been a crimson shade of red, deep and throbbing. Before pulling her underwear back up, she had rubbed her hand in circles over the crimson cheeks, marvelling at how blazing hot they were. In more ways than one, she thought, and her hand found its way beneath her skirt and between her thighs. She closed her eyes and sighed happily. Unbeknownst to Mrs Evans, Maddie had not been wearing any knickers that morning during the rounds, and, in fact, had not been wearing any all day. The daring act made her even more wet as she thought of how hard she would have been punished if she had been found out. Mrs Evans liked her —that was how she knew that her undies wouldn’t be inspected— but nothing would stop her from given her ass a tanning for the ages if she found out that she had been taking advantage of her trust. Her fingers found their ways inside her, and she moaned softly. She thought of Grace and her perfect little ass. So red, so…
She jumped as she heard the door close with a clack. Grace was standing in front of her bed, arms crossed, a hard look on her face.
“Well well, look at you, Headgirl…” Grace said, “And not even wearing knickers, huh?”
“I… I took them off… I…” stammered Maddie
“Yeah right…” said Grace, “I think we all noticed when you bent over to to get your pen in maths…”
“N-no, I… You would have said something then!” Maddie said, getting up defiantly.
“Oh yeah?” said Grace, staring, “And deny myself the pleasure of dealing with you myself?”
Maddie crossed her arms, mirroring Grace’s pose, “You… you can’t prove anything!” she said.
“Like I said, at least five of us saw it, so…” Grace shrugged, “I thought I’d do you a favour…”
“A favour?” asked Maddie.
“Whatever I’m going to do to you, it’ll be nothing compared to the caning you’d get for going commando the whole day!” promised Grace. “The Headgirl, no less…”
“I… I…” tried Maddie, but nothing came to her.
And so now, Grace was smiling. It wasn’t the nice kind of smile; no, it was the smile of someone who knew they were going to get exactly what they wanted. And what Grace wanted was revenge. She pulled a chair and sat down without another word.
Head bowed, Maddie shuffled to the other girl. To think that a moment before, she had been thinking of her and… Maddie blushed, unsure what to feel about that. Grace was angry, and that made her even more attractive, in a way. Maddie lowered herself over the girl’s lap. Grace didn’t bother starting over the skirt, electing instead to bare the Headgirl’s bottom immediately. She caressed it with her nails, eliciting a soft moan from Maddie. Her hand grabbed one of the Headgirl’s buttocks and squeezed hard. Maddie moaned harder.
“Wh-what are you doing?!” she asked, fidgeting.
“Judging the merchandise…” Grace grinned.
“The.. what?” Maddie said, confused, aroused, shocked. She had not been expecting that.
“Nice ass…” Grace simply said.
Maddie had not expected that at all. But before she could answer, Grace’s hand had lifted high and come crashing down hard on Maddie’s exposed, quivering bottom. The pain exploded in her backside, travelling all the way up her spine and making her gasp. The hand came down again and again and again, driven by revenge, by pain, and by lust. Maddie felt it fall on her bottom, over her sitspots, over her thighs. Fingers got lost on their way, caressing her, probing her between her thighs. Breathless, she didn’t know what to think. Grace was relentless, punishing one moment, caressing the next, and Maddie could only guess what was going to come next.
It didn’t take long for Grace to grab the hairbrush from the table on which Maddie had put it earlier that day, and with relish, she brought it down on the quivering Headgirl who didn’t know whether to scream with pain or with the need she had to feel Grace’s hands and tongue all over her, inside her. She squirmed and panted, and moaned and cried, giving herself all to her tormentor. Her ass was on fire. Her thighs were wet with desire. Her tears were flowing and her nipples were hard. She tensed and pressed her legs together, hoping for release. Grace was still spanking her, punishing her. Maddie yelped as a hard stroke found her thigh. The hairbrush clattered to the floor and she felt Grace’s hand forcing itself between her legs. She parted them, giving the girl access to anything she wanted.
“You love that, don’t you, you slut?” said Grace.
“Y-yes…” Maddie said, breathless.
“Say it” Grace barked.
“I-I love it…” Maddie panted
“Say you’re a slut” Grace ordered, her fingers deep in the other girl, twisting and twirling maddeningly.
“YES!” Maddie yelled, “Yes! I-I’m a slut, please… Don’t… Don’t stop…”
“Say it again…” Grace said, her breath heavy now too.
“I… I’m a dirty little slut… Who likes to… Aah… Who likes to go around without… Oh god… Without any underwear…”
“I see…” grinned Grace, “What else?”
“I… I touch myself and…”
“And?”
“I was thinking of…”
“Yes?”
Maddie erupted in spasms as Grace continued to work her lustful magic in her. With a laugh, Grace let her fall softly to the floor and got up, towering over her as she still jolted in ecstasy.
“You owe me smokes, Headgirl”
“Y-yes, Grace… What-Whatever you want…”
“And next time…” Grace started, then she paused, pensive.
“Y-yes?” Maddie said.
“Next time I get to cum…” said Grace, and she left the room.
Fin
You can find other stories taking place in Hardwood Academy here
