A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon - The Woody Back to School Unit

11
I did not take this news well but they gave me
a choice. I could either bend over the back of the sofa
under my own steam or they would physically hold
me down. Needless to say I bent over.
I was so angry that the caning itself did not
seem to hurt much. Once Ponsonby-Jones was
finished and I was allowed to return to the upright I
felt I had no option. I hacked her in the shins!
This resulted in a second caning, which I must
admit did hurt rather considerably, although I never
let them see that.
This ridiculous incident cultivated my serious
dislike for being formally punished which continues to
this day. I felt that it was ridiculous that these beyotch’s
had the power to bend me over and beat my
arse with a whippy rattan cane.
My stay at the school was an unhappy one, I
was at constant war with the Goddesses and gobbed
them at every opportunity. They, of course, thrashed
me whenever they had a chance. I always felt the
need to retaliate with shin-hacking which always
guaranteed me a few more strokes.
I actually remained enrolled at the school for
almost three years. I think that my father’s generous
gifts of new libraries and extensions to the facilities
had more to do with that than their desire to retain
me as a pupil. After all my father probably had more
loot than the combined chaps of the aristocratic
bumpkins put together.
I was thrashed fifteen times during my stay.
That may not seem a lot when compared to the
records of my dear chums Debs, Claire and the
Bounder but to put it in perspective most girls at the