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 The Agnes McKenzie Academy

   Margaret McKenzie inherited the academy from her late mother - Agnes. 
Agnes McKenzie had established the boarding school for the daughters of the
middle classes in the late 1940's.  The academy was run on the traditional
values of the Scottish educational system.  It was very popular in its time
- places were hard to come by.  But by the 1970's people were no longer
interested in what were seen as old-fashioned teaching methods.  The school
was gradually run down and Agnes retired, finally using just two rooms in
the rambling house as her own accommodation.  These had, in more affluent
times, been the housekeeper's quarters.  The reason Agnes chose those as
her living space was simple - the drawing room, one of the smallest rooms
in the old house, was the easiest to maintain and most economical to keep
warm.

   Margaret looked sadly round the building.  A wealthy merchant had built
it in 1793 as a family home.  As with many such homes it had become far too
expensive run.  In the First War it had been used as a military hospital,
later it had become a private maternity hospital, which it remained until
Agnes took it over.  It was located in an isolated part of Scotland, just
to the North of The Solway Firth.  The nearest village was some five miles
away, along quiet country roads.  The old desks were there still, stacked
in one of the disused classrooms.  Some of the desks had the initials of ex
pupils.  Margaret half smiled as she thought of the punishment that would
have been meted out to any girl caught defacing school property in that
way. Margaret opened the small cupboard in the corner of the room and found
three canes and a selection of tawses - the traditional school punishment
of Scotland.  Of course modern ideas were coming in and these instruments
had fallen into disuse.  What a shame.

   The best thing Margaret could think of was to sell the house.  Thus it
was that she seated the two men from the estate agency on the sofa in the
old housekeeper's room.  As they sipped their tea and nibbled a Scottish
shortbread, the men gave their appraisal:

   'I'm sorry, but selling the house as it is will be difficult,' said Mr
Hardacres.  `Certainly it has potential, but will require at least £30,000
to bring it up to modern standards.  To start with, a central heating
system is a must,' the older man said as he glanced toward the wood burning
stove in the hearth.  'People are just not interested in properties without
proper heating these days.  Winters are cold enough here as it is.'

   As the conversation went on, Margaret's heart sank.  She just could not
see how she could raise the necessary finance.

   Later after the estate agents had departed, Margaret put another log in
the stove and tried to work out a solution.  Suddenly an idea came to her.
She remembered reading a magazine article about an academy for grown women
who wanted to recapture their youth at a traditional boarding school. 
There was a dress code, classrooms, hockey and netball, choir practice,
school dinners, prefects and even corporal punishment.  Apparently it was a
great success.  The academy in the article was very spartan, certainly no
central heating.  The Agnes McKenzie Academy was just perfect for the
purpose.  It could be both profitable and exciting.  Without further ado
Margaret reached over to the table and took her notebook and pencil and
began to write:

   DRESS CODE: All girls must provide themselves with an official school
uniform, including plaid skirt, white blouse, white socks, white school
knickers.  and sports attire.  Those girls appointed as prefects will be
permitted to wear their own underwear and stockings.

   DISCIPLINE: Girls may be promoted to prefect provided they have attended
at least two semesters at the academy.  They will be permitted to chastise
junior pupils with hand spanking only.  More severe punishments will be
carried out by staff members only.
Margaret scribbled away.  Idea followed idea, until she felt she had

covered all the necessary areas.

   Margaret eyed the two girls seated on the sofa before her.  The younger
one, Jennifer was in her mid twenties and wearing her Agnes McKenzie
uniform.  The second girl, Tina, was in her early thirties and just a touch
over weight.  She was wearing her gym kit of white vest and shorts.

   `Jennifer, stand up.  What is that pinned to your blouse?'

   Jennifer glanced down at the bit of leopard skin material fastened to
her blouse with a safety pin.  `Please Miss KcKenzie, it's my thong.'

   `Your what?' queried Margaret.

   `My thong Miss KcKenzie.'

   `Show me.' Jennifer unfastened the bit of material and held it up.  A
miniscule piece of material, about the size of an eye patch.

   `Why, may I ask, is it pinned to your blouse?'

   `Mr Jones saw it in choir practise and made me put it there.'

   `And how did Mr Jones see what sort of underwear you were wearing.'

   `Well Miss KcKenzie, he saw me chewing gum while we were singing `Nymphs
and Shepherds.' He made me go out to the front and lifted my skirt to slap
my bum and then he saw my knickers.  He made me lift my skirt right up and
walk round the class, so all the girls could see what a naughty girl I was.
It was very embarrassing, the thong doesn't cover much up.  Mr Jones and
all the girls could see my bum and all.  Then he made me take it right off
and pin it to my blouse.  Then Mr Jones made me stand on a chair at the
front of the class and lift up my skirt.  All the girls could see my quim.
Some laughed and pointed at me.  I had to stay there all through the lesson
and I still had to join in the singing.  It is no fun singing with no
knickers on and your skirt pulled up, while standing on a chair and a dozen
pairs of eyes staring at your fanny.  It has been an awful day.  I have
been so humiliated.

   `Yes quite, Jennifer.  Now you know why we have a dress code.  Rules
have to be obeyed.  Mr Jones was quite right to teach you a lesson and send
you to me.  Now I want you to bend right over and lift your skirt up for
me. I don't believe you have had the cane before, so I will just give you
two strokes as a warning.

   `Yes Miss KcKenzie.' Jennifer bent over and lifted her skirt as
instructed and presented her already bare bottom for punishment.  Margaret
took her regular school cane and swung it down in a graceful arc to make
contact with Jennifer's pale bottom.  Jennifer yelped and sprang up wiggly
her bottom in pain.

   `Back in position,' ordered Margaret.  Jennifer assumed the position
again and Margaret paused to allow the first stroke take effect.  She
looked approvingly at the red line that was already appearing.  SWISH.  The
second stroke made contact.  Jennifer shrieked and grabbed her buttocks as
she wriggled and squirmed.

   `Hands away NOW, or you'll get another.  Jennifer sobbed and moved her
hands away, so that Margaret could see the results of her handiwork.  Two
parallel red lines.  Excellent.  `Right, Jennifer.  I think you will
remember our dress code in future.  Go and put your knickers on and go back
to your dorm.'

   As Jennifer dashed out, Margaret turned to the second girl, who was
blushing furiously after watching the ordeal of her companion.  `Tina, why
are you here?'

   `Matron sent me Miss.  I was doing aerobics and pulled a muscle in my
thigh.  Matron massaged it for me.  She said I'd got to come to you and
show you my bottom.'

   `Why on earth did she do that, Tina?'

   `Please Miss,' said Tina, `Heather caned me and marked my bum.'

   `Good gracious,' said Margaret.  `You'd better show me then.'

   Something was wrong here.  Heather was a senior prefect, entitled to
administer a hand spanking, but certainly not a caning.

   Tina tugged her gym shorts down over her plump bottom, encased in very
tight white knickers.  She could have done with one size larger, but they
showed off her bum to good effect.  The material clung to her like a second
skin, tucking into the crease between her two ample buttocks.  Margaret
gave a little intake of breath as she noticed the cleft where the knickers
stretched over her vagina.  Tina peeled down her knickers to expose her
bottom.  Margaret immediately took in the three stripes, perfectly
positioned on the plump behind.  Lovely red, parallel lines perfectly
spaced - the work of a true artist.  Oh how Margaret would have liked to
have claimed credit for such fine work.

   `Fetch Heather to me now,' she ordered.  `

   Tina quickly pulled her knickers up and ran out of the room.

   Ten minutes later, Tina arrived back with Heather, a tall, shapely girl
of about 25.  Heather was beautifully turned out as might be expected of a
prefect.  Her white blouse was nicely pressed and her tie carefully
knotted.

   `Heather, you know you should not have caned Tina.  It is strictly
forbidden.  It is dangerous for an untrained person to administer such a
punishment.  It is the prerogative of staff members only to use the cane.
What have you got to say, young lady?'

   `It is not dangerous Miss KcKenzie, I am very experienced and quite
capable of administering a caning.  I often cane my boyfriend on his bare
arse.  It really gets him going then we....'

   `SILENCE, we have no desire to hear anymore of your exotic love live,
Heather.  Now I intend to punish you most severely.'

   Margaret knew this was a challenge to her authority.  Heather had
received the cane before and was used to accepting a good thrashing. 
Margaret knew it would require all her skill to make an impression. 
Although determined to punish Heather severely, Margaret admired the girl.
She was smart, efficient and good at maintaining disciple with the more
inexperienced girls.  One day she would like to take her on as a member of
staff.  But right now she would teach Heather who was in charge.

   Margaret went to her corner cupboard and looked at the collection of
canes.  She selected a very old cane, bought by her mother just after the
war from a school supplies company in Edinburgh.  It was a beautiful
instrument.  Extremely pliable and whippy, with a patina from years of use.

   `Heather, you will remember this thrashing for the rest of your life. 
Now assume the position.'

   `Yes, Miss KcKenzie,' said Heather , `Knickers down, or shall I take
them right off?'

   `I think it would be better to take them right off this time Heather.'

   `Of course Miss KcKenzie,' said Heather as she peeled off a nice pair of
lacy pale blue knickers.  Without hesitation she bent over, flipped up her
skirt and awaited her punishment.'

   Margaret gave a practise swish with the cane.  It cut through the air
with an impressive whoosh.  Tina watched in awe and gave a little shudder
at the sound.  Heather did not flinch.

   `Legs a little further apart Heather.' Heather parted her legs, making a
fine target of her firm rounded buttocks.  Tina swallowed as she caught a
glimpse of Heather's neatly trimmed cunt between her thighs.

   Margaret placed the cane carefully on Heather's buttocks, decided where
the first stroke should land.  Choosing the spot Margaret raised the cane
high, then SWOOOSH - CRACK.  The cane landed on the designated spot,
perfectly placed across the centre of her firm bum.

   `Oh yes Miss KcKenzie, nicely done,' breathed Heather.

   `Hmmm, we shall see Heather.  You have five to go.' Said Margaret.

   The next stoke fell just above the first, which was already showing up
as a bright red line.  Margaret thought she heard a slight gasp from her
subject, but wasn't certain.

   `Am I getting through to you Heather?'

   `You certainly have my full attention Miss KcKenzie,' said Heather,
still quite composed.

   Margaret knew from experience that most girls would have been reduced to
tears by now.  She had to admire Heather's sang-froid, but she was
determined to break the hussy.

   `Push your bottom out,' said Margaret as she raised the cane for her
third swipe.  SWISH Crack.  Beautiful.  Another lovely neat parallel strip.

   `Ohhh that was a good one,' said Heather.

   `Well here's another,' said Margaret as she filled a space between two
stripes.

   Tina's eyes boggled as she surveyed Heather's reddened bottom.  She
pressed her hands into her crotch as she watched the prefect's punishment.
She was amazed at the girl's fortitude.  She felt her own vagina getting
wet with excitement.

   `Ohh, wow, oooh,' gasped Heather.  Margaret wasn't sure whether the
sounds were those of agony or ecstasy.' She had known some of her pupils
have orgasms during a good thrashing.  Perhaps Heather was such a girl. 
What ever, she felt sure she was on the verge of taming the young shrew.

   Ringggg, Ringgggg - The School bell?  Lesson change time, dinner?  No,
no none of those....  What?  What is it?  Mobile phone ringing?  Who? 
What? Margaret pressed `answer.'

   Hello?  Miss McKenzie?'

   `What?  Who, I oh, sorry, I...'

   `Miss McKenzie, It's Mr Hardacre.'

   `What, I...'

   The fire in the hearth had burned down and the shadows were growing long
as Margaret came out of her reverie.

   `Mr Hardacre, from the agency here.  Good news Miss KcKenzie.  I think
we might have a client after all - a development company.  I'll come over
tomorrow.  Will 10 am be all right?'

   `Oh, oh yes.  Fine.' Said Margaret.

   Margaret McKenzie put down her phone, placed her notebook back on the
table and breathed a deep, deep sigh as she slowly realized she had been
dreaming.