I had stopped spanking Sarah to let the numbness wear off from her bottom and have the feeling return to it, so she would get the full effect of my spanking once more. I went over to the window and opened it. A blast of cold air swept into the punishment room and I saw goose-bumps come up all over Sarah's back and bottom.

I looked out and saw the path of the river winding, black below the school. Turning, I looked around the simple room of dark-stained paneling. The doors of a closet took about half of one wall, and beside that was a simple mirror with a wood frame screwed to the paneling: these punishment rooms must have been bedrooms at one time.

I returned to Sarah, held to the punishment table by straps on her wrists and calves, and naked from her waist down, and began to gently rub and massage her blazing red bottom: I wanted to be sure no bruises showed tomorrow - so she would have only a deep lingering pain . . .

After some minutes thus, squeezing and fondling her scarlet cheeks:

"I need to feel how hot your bottom is now, Sarah".

I bent over the table and pressed my lips to her lovely twelve-year-old bottom, slowly nuzzling and kissing her hot and silky cheeks - as I made a careful and deeply concerned check on their heat . . .

I was suddenly startled by the noise of grinding machinery, like an old threshing machine starting up in a farm yard. It seemed to be just next door to our little punishment room. But the cause was soon apparent: a deep bell began to sound, booming out the hour of nine.

The whole room shook with each thud of the clapper and I could not hear myself think until its nine strokes were finished.

When people slept in these rooms they must have been able to stop the clock from striking at night!

The clamor only briefly interrupted my careful tests on the heat of Sarah's bottom, and I plunged my face down to bury myself once more in her silky-soft fesses with her irresistable musky odor of sexual arousal; I licked and kissed her sweet brown rose until my thirst was sated.

Sarah's tears had stopped by now and she had returned to making low moaning noises as she squirmed on the cushion in sensual delight under the urgent nuzzling of my lips and she pressed her bottom up towards me.

I raised my head and slid my hand down between her legs and patted her little cunnie: As I suspected, it was soaking wet.

"Sarah! What's this?! What's all this moisture? Have you wet yourself?"

"No Sir! I don't know why I am wet Sir!"

"I'll spread the moisture over your bottom, Sarah; That will make my next spanking sting you even more!"

"Must you Sir? Sir haven't you spanked me enough already Sir?!"

"No Sarah, I have not spanked you enough already! I must make sure you always remember what I am telling you, for ever and ever".

I slid my hand down between her legs, as I massaged her quim and brought up her cunnie-drips again and again to cover the cheeks of her scarlet bottom with a slick film.

Then I pinched one of Sarah's cheeks and she let out a surprised shout of pain: her bottom had lost much of its numbness and was again sensitive for my spanks.

I went over to the window and closed it again: I didn't want the whole world to hear the slap of my hand on Sarah's wet bottom.

"I am going to spank you again, Sarah. This will hurt you much more this time, with your wetness spread all over your bottom".

"Sir. Please Sir, don't hurt me a lot Sir!"

"No more than I have to, Sarah".

I returned to the punishment table again and began to spank Sarah once more. But this time I varied the speed and force of the smacks: sometimes I had my fingers together like a paddle, sometimes spread open like a cat-o'-five-tails.

All the time I was repeating with the smacks:

BEHAVE YOURSELF! DON'T BE MEAN!

My hand was making wet painful slapping noises on her bottom now - more menacing than before. I spread my spanks all over her cheeks and paid special attention to the sweet spot where her bottom curved down to meet her legs, and to the sides of her cheeks.

Sometimes the force of my smack completely flattened Sarah's derriere and she gave a yelp of pain; others were a mere touch that barely stroked her angry red bottom.

I tormented Sarah: She never knew which to expect: soft or agonizing.

The pain from my spanking excruciated Sarah, I knew, and tears were again coursing down her face as she jerked her body this way and that and cried out as she tried all the time to escape my unrelenting spanks.

I did not want Sarah to feel that she was just undergoing a severe and merciless beating from a person in authority -I wanted to be sure she felt cared for and loved, even while she was being spanked.

I slipped my other hand in from the side under her cunnie and massaged her stiff little clitty while I continued to spank her scarlet bottom until she began to squirm and wriggle - but now her pain was mixed with a rising ecstasy and love juices were running freely from her quim.

Dear Sarah's gasps and moans and groans grew louder and her hips squirmed and wriggled more and more violently in ecstasy as sexual arousal took complete control of her muscles, her body twitched and snapped like a fish caught on a hook, jerking faster and faster until at last sweet Sarah finally stopped moving and her whole body tensed and shuddered, wracked by the spasms of a shattering orgasm, then lay still . . .

"Ooooooh! Aaaaaah! Oh, Sirrrrrrr! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ohhhhhhhhh!!!"

Then silence but for Sarah's heavy breathing.

I stopped massaging Sarah's cunnie but kept my hand there as I pressed my mouth down into her burning cheeks to suck and nibble her sweet angelic bottom . . . reeking with the pungent flavor of her young-girl erotic excitement . . . to make sure that Sarah felt truly cared for and loved.

As Sarah began to stir again and showed signs of life, I took a soft cloth from my case and wiped her clean and the table she was on, then:

"Sarah, lift your middle!" - and as my hand pressed up on her tummy I removed the cushion and pulled her skirt down, front and back.

"Sarah, tell me, what are the two things I've been saying all the time I have been spanking you?"

"Sir,'Behave yourself' Sir, and 'Don't be mean', Sir"

"Yes, Sarah. The pain of my spanking will help you to remember that.

"Think of this too: If the Principal ever asks me to punish you again for the same thing, I won't spank you with my hand: I will use a horse's riding crop on your bare bottom, like this".

I took the crop from my case and showed it to her, bending the stiff leather-covered crop back and fore in front of her eyes, then brought it down - hard - on the top of my leather brief case: CRACK!

"It's used to punish horses, Sarah. I only beat girls with my riding crop when nothing else will change their ways. You have never felt any pain as terrible as this riding crop gives. And I hope you never will.

"Sarah, YOU MUST BEHAVE YOURSELF!

"You are intelligent, Sarah. Do you understand what I am saying about behaving yourself so you are allowed to stay in St. Radegund's school?"

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir for spanking me so hard to help me remember and for being so nice to me: I will remember it always and I will behave myself Sir!"

"There's one thing I want you to do tomorrow, Sarah, apart from behaving yourself: I want you to go to the History teacher when other people are with her so they hear what you say.

"I want you to do something that will take a lot of courage, Sarah.

"I want you to tell her you are very sorry for hitting her with food in the refectory.

"Then - this is important -go down on your knees in front of her and ask her -out loud so everyone can hear -if she can please forgive you for what you did?

"You must feel truly sorry for being mean to this teacher who you like, Sarah, and I hope you cry so the teacher sees tears roll down your face to show you are sorry.

"Sarah, it will need all your courage, but you must be brave and do it. Your will find your life changes wonderfully after that, I promise you.

"Do you understand what you must do, Sarah?"

"Yes Sir. I will remember and do that tomorrow Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Do you have any questions before I ring for someone to take you back to your dorm room, Sarah?"

"No Sir. Thank you very much Sir. I wish you was my Dad, Sir!"

I bent over the table and kissed Sarah softly on her sweet freckled face as my hand slipped up under her skirt and stroked her blazing hot bottom and a blissful smile returned to her face while she wriggled her bottom against my hand . . .

"I can't be your Dad, but I would like you to think of me as your Uncle my dear Sarah.

"But what you need much more than an Uncle, my sweet Sarah is an Aunt, right here in the school. A teacher who likes you and you can talk to at any time - like your Mom was never able to do.

"How about the History teacher? You like her Sarah. Do you think she might be your friend after this and you could go and talk to her any day you want Sarah?"

Sarah's bottom was wriggling against my hand in ecstasy now - I could tell she was happy with what I'd suggested:

"Yes Sir. I think I could. Sir I can't thank you enough. Please kiss me again, Sir!"

"Sarah never forget what I've told you tonight, will you my dear!

"My thoughts will be with you tomorrow while you are being very brave and ask the teacher to please forgive you.

"Goodbye, Sarah, my dear Niece!", and kissed her once more as I gently squeezed her silky soft bottom and slid my hand down between her legs.

She had quietly started to cry again and I pressed the bell push twice for a teacher to take dear Sarah back to her dorm room. Then I picked up my brief case and left Punishment Room Number One.

I was warm from my exertions and made for the room marked "B". Only when in there did I dare to savor the odors of my hands from spanking dear sweet Sarah's lovely bottom. I carefully wiped my hands with a fresh cotton handkerchief then sealed it in a plastic bag.

Next I took care of my own urgent needs then washed my hands thoroughly with the Ivory soap and ran a basin of cool water: it felt wonderfully refreshing on my face . . .

It was now nearly two hours since the Principal had brought me up to that top floor. As I opend the bathroom door, the clock tower began its deafening announcement of the hour and I saw a teacher walking away, through the door in the partition wall with her arm around Sarah, slowly hobbling along: to her dorm room on the girls' side of the house.

I gave them a minute to get clear, than went down the main staircase to the entrance hall and knocked on the door marked "Principal".

"Come in! Oh good! It is you, Pentland. You must have given Sarah a most thorough punishment, far more than any of the staff would be capable of. Thank you so much! Come and sit for a little and restore yourself with a glass of Hungarian Tokay".

"Thank you, Priscilla. Yes, I would like that. It's sometimes quite surprisingly hard work, physically and mentally, to change the course that a young girl is steering.

"And if I have done my work right, you will not be asking me to see young Sarah again".

Priscilla filled our glasses from the decanter in her corner cupboard:

"Let us drink to Saint Radegund's!", I said, raising my glass.

"Yes! To Saint Radegund's!", Priscilla repeated.

And we drank to the toast . . . just as a knock came at her door.

"Come in!", she said.

The housemaid entered and handed Priscilla a note. She opened it and glanced at what it said.

"Thank you, Katherine. There's no reply", and the maid left, closing the door behind her.

"I am given a report after each punishment by the teacher who sees the girl back to her dorm room. I think you should read this, Pentland", and handed me the note:

"Never before have I seen a bare bottom so soundly spanked.

"Sarah is in much pain now, but she will be fit for classes tomorrow.

"Sarah's is deeply penitent though her mood is strangely up-beat!.

M. Grozny".

"Why up-beat, Pentland? What did you say to Sarah?"

"I tried to help Sarah to understand that her future is entirely in her own hands, no one else's.

"I beat her long and hard on her bare bottom, to help her remember all I said.

"I hope that she will apologise tomorrow to the History teacher, then asked to be forgiven.

"You may find Sarah making a friend of that teacher, too, to be her confidante. Her own mother never was able to be that, you know.

"Priscilla, may we drink another toast? To the future of Sarah!"

"Indeed Pentland! To the future of Sarah! . . . .

"Pentland, what you have tried to do to help Sarah is truly inspiring.

"I can not even guess the methods you have used to achieve so much with her already!?"

"I gave the girl a very painful corrective punishment, Priscilla.

"My own personal methods are to give a bare bottom spanking while I do all I can to remove any feeling that she is being implacably beaten by a brutal authority figure, particularly with a delicate and sensitive girl like young Sarah.

"While I soundly spanked her bare bottom, I did my best to impress on young Sarah that she is truly cared for and loved by those who are in charge of her here, Priscilla".

No need, I felt, to tell Priscilla just *how* I had impressed on Sarah that she was truly cared for and loved.

I knew though from Priscilla's enjoyment while listening to the Satyricon at the college dinner where we met, that she certainly would not have been shocked even if she had stood and watched all I had done with Sarah that evening.

"When you come next, Pentland, I will tell you what changes we have noticed in Sarah's behavior since you punished her this evening.

"But some of our girls really are more hardened cases, you know! Can you please bring your riding crop in case we have one of these next Wednesday, Pentland?"

"Why, certainly Priscilla. I am most glad to do what I can to help your school in this way. I will come again at eight, unless you call to tell me otherwise".

Saying which, I put down my empty glass:

"This Tokay is a most delightful desert wine; thank you, Priscilla! And now I really should not keep you any longer: I have some way to drive and you have a school to run tomorrow".

Priscilla Battem, Principal of St.Radegund's School for the Correction of Girls, walked me to the front door and saw me down the steps, then thanked me again and waved: "Good night, Pentland!".

Drained and exhausted though I was, a feeling of glorious elation pervade me as I drove carefully down that steep driveway, thinking of sweet Sarah and spanking her bare bottom.

It seemed a very long time until next Wednesday and my next visit to St. Radegund's School for the Correction of Girls.

Then a question came into my head out of nowhere: Priscilla had said to me, "Please bring your riding crop".

How did Priscilla know I had a riding crop? I'd only taken it out of my brief case in the punishment room to frighten Sarah: Had Priscilla been able to see me do that? A spy hole? Had she seen everything I did with young Sarah in that punishment room?

I just wrenched the wheel over in time before landing in the ditch.

Priscilla had seen everything?!

The wall-mirror! No one ever had slept in those punishment rooms: They had been built to house a viewer - in a small room, next to the punishment room, and a door into it from the girls' side of the house. Whoever was in there could enjoy everything that went on in the punishment room, with the see-through mirror and a hole in the wall to listen by.

Priscilla Battem, MA, Principal, was a closet voyeur of the corporal punishment of young girls! Maybe a large factor in her taking the post of Principal. Ha!

And now she had watched me impress on Sarah that she is 'truly cared for and loved' by exciting her to ecstatic orgasm then sink my face into her silky-smooth cheeks as I reveled in sucking and nibbling her angelic bottom.

And the result of Priscilla Battem, Principal of St.Radegund's School, seeing everything I had done with young Sarah that evening? She had warmly invited me to return on the following Wednesday -with my riding crop.

My driving had become steadier.

I must remember next week that I am doing this for more than just my own pleasure; And perhaps I will sometimes be able to amuse Priscilla by showing her some 'punishments' that the women teachers are not able to give?