A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker - The Woody Back to School ...

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almost always as a result of Claire swearing her
pretty, potty-mouthed little head off.
“Thanks for the trip down memory lane,
Nixxy,” she half-smiled, “but I’d better cut along. You
know how hard Pauline canes and if I don’t keep on
the move I’ll stiffen up.”
We nod understandingly and wish her good
luck. Twelve hours ago Claire Brooks beat my bottom
six times with a whippy stick but I do not bear her the
least bit of malice. That was her job and she did her
work efficiently with the minimum of fuss and no
unnecessary unpleasantness. She is a chum and I
hope that her bum recovers quickly.
The cafeteria is only just opening up for
business when we arrive and there are only two or
three other inmates collecting trays and getting ready
to check out the contents of the usual sumptuous
buffet. This is probably good news for the poor soul
in the kitchen who is receiving a very loud spanking,
although right now I suspect that is the last thing on
her mind.
The five of us kind of just grind to a resigned
halt. This is one of the weird things about living at
Woodys. Of course we regularly witness gals being
caned, either in the lecture rooms, or when you are
sent up to the Beaks office or the library to be
thrashed alongside a chum, or when we are required
to attend public floggings. However, one of the most
evocative elements of our lives is that the sounds and
rituals of spanking and corporal punishment
constantly surround us.