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First though, came a mind-numbing lecture from the Deputy Head. I mean, I was getting a bit nervous by then, so I didn't really hear much - he could've saved himself the effort - gone and had a cup of tea or something. Anyway, suddenly it was over. He handed over a cane and...I had to bend over to touch my toes. I couldn't reach that far so we settled on around about my ankles. Once there, I felt very vulnerable indeed. When the first stroke arrived I honestly couldn't believe it. I had never known such pain. After the second, I was sure the cuts were so deep that I must be bleeding. I really didn't think I'd be able to take any more. Of course I did - there wasn't an option to call halt - and after the most agonising minute or so of my life it was over - thank G**. Later that evening, when the horrible initial sharpness of the pain had died down, my bottom moved into throbbing mode. By the time I went to bed my bottom was feelilng really rather nice and I lay on my back,. He switched on a light, and I saw that he had pulled on a pair of rumpled shorts and a t-shirt. He walked up to the bed without a word, and rather awkwardly held out a red terrycloth bathrobe. When I just looked at him with a mix of confusion and apprehension, he dropped it at my feet."I thought we should talk. I'll be in the living room, okay? Do you need a hand to get there?"I shook my head, and he left, quietly closing the door behind him, giving me privacy to put on the robe. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge, rubbing my face and smoothing down my hair. I carefully stood, and pulled the robe around my shoulders. I could smell him on the robe, and as I inhaled deeply, my guilt increased. Belting it tightly around my waist, I glanced quickly at a mirror, groaning inwardly at how wildly my hair hung off my head. I knew from long experience that nothing other than a shower would fix it; I sighed and limped out of the bedroom.Instead of heading straight for the living room, I.
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