Caught day dreaming in Ms Smeets class again, and so soon after he’d been sent to Mr Hughes for the strap, Graham now finds out the hard way just how Ms Smeet deals with with repeat offenders.
It really wasn’t fair, he thought. She was impossible not to day dream about.
Fetching The strap
As he held the strap in his hands Ms Smeet said, “Very good Graham. Now bring the strap to me,” she said firmly, each word firm and clear with plenty of emphasis on the word strap making it sound sharp and strong. Not that anyone in the classes needed that to understand.
Again the walking, again feeling every eye on him he carried the strap to Ms Smeet with his heart beating faster and acutely sensing his breathing coming in gasps from his nervous tension. Not only that, carrying the strap, feeling it in his hands was the most exciting thing he’d ever done, and also the most embarrassing, and the most frightening, and all at the same time.
How hard was Ms Smeet going to strap him? He couldn’t get that out of his mind. But the logic of it was that since it was her strap, she knew how to use it and had used it before.
Would it be as hard as Mr Hughes? He strapped pretty hard and it sure did sting. But his strap was nothing like this one.
He doubted it. But it was plain, Mr Hughes strap wasn’t split like this one and he’d heard from his friends that this kind which was often called a tawse and it hurt alot more. Also Mr Hughes strap was floppy, supple, and no way as thick as this one. Just holding Ms Smeet’s strap he could feel how hard and thick and un bending the leather was.
Holding it with between his hands, he presented the strap to Ms Smeet who smiled slightly as she reached forward and took it.
His eyes were riveted to Ms Smeet. She moved the strap between her hands, caressing the leather almost. Ms Smeet flicked the three tails up in the air then caught them as they descended, every eye in the class staring at the leather of the strap moving.
As she did that, the leather moving, it was clear that the leather was quite stiff, hardly bending. When Ms Smeet used it as a pointer it stood straight out even though she held it with just one hand. Ms Smeet stared at him, “Stand there,” she said pointing the strap beside her.
Moving hesitantly he was now side on to the class, his hands pressed to his sides, his body almost trembling in expectation. This was nothing like how he got the strap from Mr Hughes the headmaster, nothing like it at all. The strap from him had just been painful. At least then he’d been in his office and none of his class was there, no one watching as Mr Hughes got his strap out of the draw then came round his desk. At least getting the strap in his office had been private even though so very painful.
“Good,” said Ms Smeet as she stared at him, “Mr Crisp does focus the eyes of naughty boys and girls.” She smiled slightly, “And Mr Crisp does a whole lot more than that as you’ll find out.”
Ms Smeet ran the strap through her hands again, then flicked her strap up and swished it through the air, reacquainting herself.
“Class,” said Ms Smeet, “do you see how stiff Mr Crisp is?” she said as she held it by one hand. The strap extended out and while it drooped at the end, it was far from floppy. “I keep Mr Crisp laying flat in my drawer, never ever rolled up like other straps and this all helps Mr Crisp make an impression on naughty boys and girls palms. Watch,” she said as she ran the strap though her hands one more time like a magician showing the audience a new trick.
The Warm up - Then the Main Event - Hands UP
Ms Smeet then rolled her shoulders for a moment, limbering up, then she lifted the strap up high, over and above her right shoulder, the tails stiff and pointing down behind her back now. There it poised for moment till with a lazy motion she brought her arm with the strap at the end down through the air making a gentle swish as it flew through the air.
Taking her time she repeated it, the strap raised, poised for a moment, just long enough for the eyes of the class to focus on it, then with a firm downward motion the leather went flying through the air. This time the sound of the strap through the air was a little louder, the leather flying a little faster thought the whole class. Particularly Graham.
Everyone in the class knew what was going to happen.
Ms Smeet was just getting started though. With her shoulders now feeling ready for action, for the third practice stroke Ms Smeet was now warmed up nicely. With a visible effort she made the leather positively swish through the air in the hardest air-stroke yet leaving no doubt in everyone in the class that she knew how to use a strap for maximum effect.
And now she’d warmed up.
Graham was getting the strap from an expert.
Getting The Cuts From Ms Smeet
“Hands UP, Graham,” said Ms Smeet firmly, the strap now held across her body and she was clearly ready to use it.
Feeling mesmerized, like he was in a dream, feeling the weight of being out the front of class and looking at Ms Smeet with the strap, Graham lifted his left hand up to chest height. Because they were facing each other, his fingers were pointing toward her, his hand open and flat.
Ms Smeet tut-tutted, “Now Graham, where I come from naughty boys and girls put their other hand under, to support and to keep it up. Do so now QUICKLY,” she snapped.
In a daze Graham lifted his right hand, then put it under his left, the hand now supported. Now he felt even worse. He felt even more embarrassed, and even more like the naughty boy getting the strap. And Ms Smeet looked positively terrifying holding her strap and being right in front of him after she’d swished it through the air time and again.
Taking her time Ms Smeet flicked the strap up onto his waiting palm showing how well she could control it. It was done quickly, simply, and showed her experience with that strap of leather.
Moving back slightly so her arm was not quite at full reach she left the strap laying on his palm. “Graham,” she asked, “you have had the strap before haven’t you, from Mr Hughes he tells me?”
“Yes Ms Smeet,” he said, his throat closed over slightly so his voice came out thinly, almost quietly.
“Have you had it from a strap like this one before,” she asked, “because this one is special. It’s called a tawse and it is made specially for naughty boys and girls palms.”
He looked down at the strap then up at Ms Smeet’s face, “No Ms Smeet, Mr Hughes strap isn’t split like yours.”
Ms Smeet did nothing. She said nothing. It was time for the leather to do the talking. With a gentle hand motion, the strap was pulled back, it fell off his palm a little then it was raised over Ms Smeet’s shoulder where it poised. It poised drawing his eyes to the leather, then to Ms Smeet’s face then back to the leather.
There was dead silence in the class. He’d never got the strap in class before. Now it was happening, and from Ms Smeet the woman he’d been daydreaming about.
Graham looked at Ms Smeet, right in the eyes as hers bored into him.
She mesmerized him.
He stared into her eyes and now with the strap raised his open and flat palm felt massively vulnerable he stood dreading what was coming and powerless to resist. He couldn’t look away.
Almost like a magic trick the strap disappeared, something seemed to blur in front of him then his palm and fingers exploded in fire at the same time a loud sharp ‘sshhwiicckk’ sounded echoing round the silent classroom for all to hear.
– 1 –
The strap drew out a deep long moan of despair and pain, “HmmmmAHHHH,” from him, the pain in his hand the worst of his life as he bent over his hand. He rubbed it, he gasped and tried to get on top of the pain. It felt like his hand had been dipped in boiling water, then seconds later it went deeper into the hand seeming to hurt all the way through. When he got the cuts from Mr Hughes the strap landed loud like a gunshot almost but it felt nothing like this. This really go into his hand far deeper.
The sound from Ms Smeet’s strap was also higher pitched but it hurt so much more. This was far worse.
“Other hand Graham,” Ms Smeet said quietly, firmly, “Quickly now. We’ve wasted enough time on this, educational for the whole class though it has been.”
This was different. Mr Hughes strapped each hand three times then gave the other hand its three strokes. From the way he felt from one stroke from Ms Smeet he doubted he could take three in a row from Ms Smeet and her strap on the one hand. Maybe this was not going to be so bad.
From being bent over he looked at Ms Smeet’s leather skirt and beside that he saw her strap swishing back and forward looking impatient, like a cats tail. He stood up gradually then put his right hand up and out, then remembering after a second, he supported it with his left. He looked down, the right hand now looked so vulnerable and white compared to his blazing left.
It came as a shock when the strap landed on his palm, sitting there laying along his fingers and onto the palm. Then after barely a few breaths the strap was pulled back then was raised over Ms Smeet’s shoulder. He felt terrified, the first stroke had been so painful he had to look away. But Ms Smeet didn’t like that.
“GRAHAM,” she said, “I expect you to have the courage to look at me as I strap you. Look at me now else I’ll give you extra. Look at my strap. I might even send you to Mr Hughes after I’ve finished with you so you can get the strap from him also and find out how his strap compares to mine.”
Graham looked up slowly, looked up at Ms Smeet as she stood with her strap poised above her shoulder and the stern look on her face. Then he looked at the strap. It was positively terrifying.
– 2 –
He stood looking into her eyes for a moment that stretched then again the ‘sshhwiicckk’ sounded and his right hand blazed into incandescent fury. Instantly his hands went under his armpits, both of them burning and throbbing from the deep pain. “Hmmmmaggghhhh,” was all that came out of his mouth as the enormity of the pain engulfed him. This was nothing like Mr Hughes strap, nothing like that at all.
“Left hand again Graham, quickly now, get it up,” Ms Smeet said. Again as he was bent over all he saw was Ms Smeet’s leather skirt and the deadly strap of hers swinging back and forward impatiently.
His hands hurt like hell but he knew he didn’t have any choice.
He stood upright again then raised his already red and throbbing left hand. When he put his newly red hot and burning right hand under it to support it he suddenly knew why this was done. The waiting reddened palm was shaking from just one stroke and holding it up voluntarily for the next was difficult. With his left hand supported by the right hand it helped keep it still for the next stroke.
Quickly this time the strap was flicked up to sit on the red palm, sit and make him acutely aware of what was coming. It saw there as Ms Smeet looked into his eyes. “Prepare,” she said quietly.
Then with a gentle flick the strap as pulled back then raised over a shoulder, the hand holding the strap high in the air the same as the last two times. It was formidable sight as he looked into Ms Smeet’’s eyes and saw her determination.
– 3 –
Ms Smeet swept her arm down with her upper body flexing hard, showing the effort she put in, the strap swished then cracked down even louder. This was the hardest stroke yet, the immensity of the pain making him yell out loud as he buckled over and rubbed his hand frantically, the heat and sting in it not abating.
“Quickly now, right hand,” said Ms Smeet as she flicked her strap back and forward beside her, impatiently waiting for the palm to be raised again.
Reluctantly repeating, Graham straightened up and brought his right hand up and supported it with his throbbing left. This was the fourth stroke, the second for this hand and he hoped like hell it was the last. Mr Hughes had strapped him a few times and it had been nothing like this. Those strappings had left his hands sore for an hour or two but hadn’t devastated him like this strapping had. Nothing had ever been like this.
“That’s three,” Ms Smeet said then delivered the awful news, “half way there for your six of the very best.”
He felt like complaining but decided against it. Ms Smeet was looking remorseless and driven, no way was she going to give him less and if he complained she’d probably give him more or send him to Mr Hughes for a dose of his strap as well.
Ms Smeet flicked the strap up onto his palm, let it lay there for a few seconds then it was quickly over Ms Smeet’s shoulder where it delayed as the strict school teacher showed her student what was coming. Then her upper body flexed, her arm flew down in a blur and his right hand exploded just the same as his left had done.
– 4 –
Again he buckled over and again he rubbed his palms together trying to get on top of the pain from the hardest strapping he’d ever had. But Ms Smeet was implacable. “Left hand up Graham, quickly now.”
Rising after looking at Ms Smeet’s waist, her leather skirt and the strap moving beside her in impatient, he lofted his left hand and supported it with his right. This time he saw the hand was now red, very red, and it was shaking so much that it really did need the right hand under it to steady it. And her realized, to make it a better target for Ms Smeet’s strap.
The process repeated. The strap was flicked up and onto his palm where it lay. He looked at it, he looked at Ms Smeet, he looked back at the strap then it was off his palm and over Ms Smeet’s shoulder. He looked at his strict form teacher for a moment seeing her eyes boring into him and her look of concentration then it happened.
– 5 –
After two of the hardest strokes of the strap he’d ever had, he thought that maybe the third wouldn’t hurt as much. He was wrong. Weather it was Ms Smeet putting in extra effort, or was it that that her strap was always painful he didn’t know as all other thoughts were wrenched, strapped, out of his mind.
Without any thought he was again bent over rubbing his hand and of course the command, “Right hand up. Quickly now else it’s two more,” said Ms Smeet. “I am thinking you’ll need two more, two of my very best, so hurry up.”
Quickly with the thought of the extra strokes of that punishing strap in his mind, as quickly as he humanly could as he was shaking from the pain and his eyes were now moist, his right hand was held up then supported with his burning and severely strapped left hand.
He was struggling to concentrate now, his breathing was ragged and he could feel the tears in his eyes. He could only take so much of this before he burst into tears and he suspected that limit had been well and truly reached.
“Good,” said Ms Smeet as she looked into his now filling eyes, “I can see this lesson is having the correct effect. You won’t be day dreaming in my class again unless it’s about my strap.”
– 6 –
Ms Smeet was like a machine now. Her muscle memory from years of using her strap was coming back to her after the short hiatus she’d had from moving schools and the start of a new term.
The strap flicked up onto his waiting red hot and now shaking palm. It lay there, catching his attention, then his eyes moved to Ms Smeet with her stern face as she looked into his eyes locking him in her stare. Then after just a few seconds the strap was up and over her shoulder where her arm held it high and proud for all to see, poised, ready.
Then there was an interminable wait that made his heart tremble. It could have only been a few seconds but felt longer, far longer as Ms Smeet stared into his eyes and he was acutely aware of the strap ready to descend.
Every eye in the class was on the strap also, or at least those that weren’t watching him and his upraised and red palm waiting for the leather to swish down onto.
When it came it was almost too fast to see, but the full bodied and shrill sound was distinctive, echoing around the room.
“ssshhhwwwwiiicccckkk,” went the strap onto his waiting palm and this time it wrenched a full bodied shout from him as the dam holding back the tears broke then they coursed down his cheeks. He had no choice but to bend over fully, both hands pressed under his armpits as he tried to reduce the awful stinging, moving them, trying to get on top of the pain.
Graham had found out, Ms Smeet straps really hard. Not only that, her strap was so much more painful than Mr Hughes.
But Graham’s time in front of the class is far from over. Ms Smeet has new ways to get the message home to him. And not only that, Ms Smeet has more surprises in store.
Continued in Part-3