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Jane Turner was twenty five years old and had been a drug supplier, bossing her own crew of ten people, she had been a tough cookie. The men in her crew were just as afraid of her as the girls. She had cemented her reputation by attacking the guards that had escorted her there, for groping her, as soon as her restraints hand been removed.

  Within a week the Headmaster had put her on the stage for a twelve stroke caning and had her in for a ‘chat’ every three days for a month. He had explained to her that complete submission to his and his staff was the only thing he would accept, and until she submitted then her sentence would not begin.

  That broke her and she began to accept her punishments stoically. Then Isabella had arrived with her whining and posh voice, all the attributes Jane hated in a person. They had clashed and she had hit her and put her on her backside.

  After both had a stiff punishment from the Headmaster and Isabella, because he knew who has started the fracas, had been given a twelve stroke public caning, Jane had avoided any contact with the upper class girl, and then Isabella had been made a tutor and was bent on revenge. Whenever she was left to run a class on her own she targeted Jane.

  She put a blank expression on her face and laid herself back over the frame, Isabella tucked her skirt up to expose her buttocks and then began to hand spank her.

  Once she had got the ward’s backside a deep red colour she began to rub and feel the hot flesh, and then she picked up the paddle. Isabella leant down and said something in Jane’s ear. Jemma re-ran the recording and put the volume up high.

  She could just hear Isabella say to Jane. “Ten to come Turner, don’t forget to number them and thank me properly will you, I wouldn’t want to give you extra.”

  Jemma watched as the trainee tutor struck with the paddle ten times, a hard blow every time, Jane screeched out the number and, ‘thank you Miss’, after every blow. Marie had come over and leant on her back at the start of the paddling and at the end of the beating she helped her back to her feet and guided her towards the benches where the silent wards had witnessed her punishment.

  “Wait,” Isabella called out. “She hasn’t thanked me for her punishment yet.”

  Marie looked back at her, a neutral expression on her face and said. “Yes she did I heard her.” She guided the sobbing girl back and sat her down. Isabella came up to Marie as she came back to the desk they shared, but she walked around and sat down, so Isabella sat down as well, a sour look on her face.

  Jemma sighed, Isabella’s sense of superiority was reasserting itself. The Headmaster or the Headmistress wouldn’t stand for one of their staff taking revenge for old insults, if Isabella wasn’t careful she would find herself back in class. They would have a long and painful talk tonight.

  She went to the classroom and requested Edo’s presence. Isabella was still sulking and Marie had to acknowledge the request. Edo said nothing but followed Jemma back to the Headmaster’s office. She stood in front of the desk, her hands on her head, waiting for orders. She was a small, dark skinned girl of Nigerian birth, illegally smuggled in to the country and married off to a Nigerian man she then spent the next five years being prostituted by him, until she was picked up street walking in Norwich.

  Once she was convicted and had been hypnotised the rest of her so-called family had been arrested and convicted and were now spending eight years behind bars and had their passports revoked and would be deported as soon as their eight years was up.

  Amoke would be granted leave to stay and given a new life to lead when her sentence was completed. Perversely, Amoke was the happiest she had been while in the UK, the other wards were the closest she had ever come to having friends since she was a child.

  She was obedient and respectful of the staff and rarely had heavy punishments, if fact most of the heavy punishments she had endured here were actually quite mild to the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her husband and her clients.

  She didn’t know why Miss Dawson had pulled her out of class or why the Headmaster wasn’t present, she could guess that it would be for some sort of punishment, but that didn’t bother her much. Here she was warm, fed and watered, things that had often been missing in her life. The occasional beating was no problem.

  Jemma looked up at the ward in front of her. “Miss Edo, you have been punished in class and gym four times in the last week, this means that you are not concentrating on the task at hand.”

  “Yes Miss, sorry Miss. I will try harder.” She spoke slowly and clearly as she had been told her English was not very good. She was fairly sure this had been used as an excuse to punish her before now, which was a bit unfair she thought as the only English people she had met before she came here were not interested in talking to her, only fucking her.

  Jemma sat down on the chair where she had been spanked more than once and motioned Amoke to stand in front of her. Putting her hands up her miniscule skirt Jemma pulled Amoke’s panties down to her knees and gave her the paddle to hold before pulling her over her lap and tucking her in with her left arm.

  She smoothed her hand all over the proffered buttocks before beginning to spank them with crisp hard blows. Over the last few years she had developed a style where she could bounce her palm off of the backside without hurting her hand to much. She spanked the girl for several minutes, waiting for her to begin to fidget as she felt the heat build up, before she reachedd own and took the paddle out of the ward’s hands and starting to paddle her in earnest.

  Jemma kept that up for several minutes until Amoke began to wave her legs about, a sure sign she was feeling the punishment. She stood her up; hands back on her head and faced her against the wall for a while until she told her she could rub herself.

  While she was doing that Jemma got the flogger from the cupboard. She had never used the flogger for a punishment so she practised for a moment by hitting the desk. It made a dull thudding sound, which made Amoke look over her shoulder at the tutor, her eyes became a bit wider, she hadn’t received the flogger before but had seen the results on Chelsea Wallace’s backside in her early days here. Both she and Hansa had worked on their dorm mate’s backside after a visit to the Headmaster’s office.

  Jemma looked at the ward. “Miss Edo, remove your panties and bend over the desk.”

  She was too short to reach the far edge of the desk so Jemma had her grip the sides. “There are ten of these to come Edo, count them off.”

  Tucking the girl’s skirt into the waist band Jemma braced herself and brought the first one down onto the quivering buttocks.

  Amoke took in a sharp intake of breath. “Ohhh! One thank you Miss.”

  Jemma delivered another two strikes, Amoke spluttered out the correct response, and then she moved back slightly so the very end of the leather tails struck the already burning welts.

  “Aghh! Four, Oh, oh, oh four Miss.” Amoke’s body shuddered, this was worse than the cane. “Ohhh! Five Miss, thank you,” she bent her knees, trying absorb the fiery pain that seemed to inhabit her whole being.

  Jemma grabbed her knees and pulled her legs wide apart. “Keep that backside still Miss, or I’ll start again.

  “No, no, please Miss, no. I’ll be good.” Amoke stiffened her legs and gritted her teeth. She didn’t want this to start again.

  “Six, thank you Miss.”

  Jemma stopped for a moment and felt the girl’s dark backside, she couldn’t see the welts but she could feel them and the heat coming off her, and the low groaning sound told her she was having an effect. She lifted the flogger high and brought it in low down on the ward’s buttocks.

  “Neeeeah! S...Seven Miss, thank you.”

  The next came on the same spot. Amoke gave out a long thin wail and stammered. “E...E...Eight Miss, thank you.”

  Almost before she could say, ‘Nine, thank you Miss’, Jemma placed the last one dead centre, “Ohhhhh! Ten Miss, thank
you.”

  Amoke lay face down on the desk sobbing until Jemma pulled her upright and pushed over to the wall where she stood, hands on head, lifting her legs up, to try and ease the stinging in her buttocks, with her forehead pressed up against the wallpaper until Jemma told her she could rub herself.

  While heaving little gasps of air the Nigerian girl gingerly rubbed herself. The young tutor waited until she had got her breath back and then told her to take up her position in front of the desk again. She looked at the young girl in front of her; her cheeks were wet with tears but she come down to just sniffling.

  She got out one of the jars of cream the wards used on their battered flesh and pushed Edo back across the desk and began to rub it on her backside, Amoke lay quietly whilst Jemma eased the sting from her buttocks and said nothing when her fingers began to piston in and out of her pussy. Her small compact body trembled as she silently came under Jemma’s manipulations.

  Jemma put her back on her feet and sat down at the computer and called up Amoke’s file. “I see that you have been here eight months, you will be released in four months Edo. Are you ready to become a good citizen now?”

  To her surprise Edo began to cry again. “No please Miss, I stay here, not go back to my husband.”

  “You want to stay here?” Jemma said incredulously.

  “Yes Miss I stay here, here nobody hits me with fists or kick me. It’s better if I stay here; I take whatever punishments you like.” Amoke had her hands pressed together like she was in prayer. Jemma was moved by her sincerity.

  “Oh you mean you don’t want to go back to your husband and his family.” She turned the screen around so it was facing Amoke. “You see what it says here, and here,” she pointed to the screen, “it says that your husband is in prison along with his two brothers and his sister and their mother, for eight years, and then they will be taken to Nigeria and left there, their British passports will be taken away from them. You will start a new life when you leave here and you will never see them again.”

  She got up and went around the desk to where Amoke stood with her mouth open. “Truly?” she whispered.

  “Yes Amoke, truly.”

  A big smile split the girl’s face and she grabbed Jemma in a tight hug. “I will be the best ever citizen, I will Miss, this I swear.”

  Disengaging herself from the ward, Jemma did not expect such a response after handing out a heavy beating, she handed her panties to her and told her to put them back and then had her thank her for her punishment before she returned her to the classroom.

  “I return Miss Edo to you, Miss Jones,” she said formally. Amoke almost skipped down to her seat, although she did wince as she sat down too quickly.

  Marie looked at her curiously a she responded. “Thank you Miss Dawson.”

  Jemma made her way back to the office, as she went through Yolanda’s office she sat up in her chair and said. “Shall I come in now Miss Dawson?”

  “What for?”

  “The Headmaster always whips me before lunch, Miss.” The young masochist gave an innocent smile.

  Jemma smiled. “Behave yourself Yolli, or nobody will punish you tonight.”

  “Mistress Jemma,” Yolanda said in an accusing voice, “you’ve gone power mad.”

  Jemma laughed. “I’m going to miss you Yolli.”

  “Maybe I can come for a sleep over?”

  “I’d like that, although I suspect that there won’t be a lot of sleeping going on.” She leaned down and kissed her on the lips, she really did care for Yolanda and would miss the way she orgasmed over her knees.

  She sat down at the desk and wondered what to do about Turner and Issi, what would He do?

  After a lot of thought she decided that she would have Turner in after lunch, spank her and cane her. Staff had to be obeyed at all times, but she wouldn’t make her ask Isabella for another six in front of the rest.

  As for tonight; well tonight she would have to punish Issi and put the fear of God, or in this case the Headmaster, into her. Isabella Parker-Davis was going to have to learn how to be professional or go back to being a ward.

  As the wards filed out after lunch, Jemma called Jane Turner’s name out. The ward stopped and turned and Jemma signalled her to stand against the wall with her hands on her head. Isabella and Marie stayed behind as well until Jemma looked at Isabella and said. “Thank you Miss Parker-Davis, I believe that Miss Grey requires assistance in the infirmary.”

  Isabella stared at her for a moment before turning and leaving; she had the instinct that all wards acquired after being here, that there was trouble brewing. She knew, like the rest of the staff, that Jemma had been put in charge with full discretion on punishments, and the use of formal language did not auger well.

  Jemma took Marie to the far side of the room and asked her quietly. “I saw what went on the classroom this morning; Turner didn’t thank Isabella for her punishment, did she?”

  “No Miss,” Marie also had the same instinct and was going to keep this formal. “I...I thought that she had been punished enough.”

  “Punished enough by Isabella you mean?”

  Marie hesitated, Isabella was now her colleague and the training she, Isabella and Tanya had undergone had forged a bond between them. But she also knew Isabella’s faults as well, and she knew that she was targeting Turner because of the history between them. “Yes Miss.”

  Jemma smiled. “I think you were correct, and I think the Headmaster will agree with me. Go and help Lucy with her class.”

  She turned back and looked at Turner facing the wall, hands on top of her head. The short skirt had risen and she could just see the marks of her earlier punishment on the backs of her thighs. But obedience was paramount here at High Heath, when a member of staff told you to jump, you didn’t ask how high, you just jumped and kept jumping until you were told to stop.

  With the short instruction, ‘Turner follow me’, Jemma made her way to the Headmaster’s office and stood her in front of the desk. She leaned back in the chair and stared at the ward in front of her like the Headmaster had done so many times. Jane stared ahead, her frustration only indicated by her hands being clenched into fists as they sat on top of head.

  “Miss Turner,” Jane jumped slightly as Jemma spoke. “It has been noted that you are being slow to obey Miss Parker-Davis’s orders. Do you remember rule one?”

  “Yes Miss, rule one is, ‘Obedience at all times’.” Jane’s reserve broke. “She’s taking revenge on me, I get punished every time, and it’s not fair.”

  “Life here is not supposed to be fair, you weren’t fair to the people whose lives you help ruin by supplying drugs, were you? Why should we be fair to you?”

  Jane’s head went down and she remained quiet.

  “Very well, I will discuss your remarks with Miss Parker-Davis and remind her that the Headmaster expects his members of staff to be professional at all times.” Jane lifted her head to look at the older woman. “But you will receive six strokes of the cane as a reminder.”

  Jane could not say anything but, “Thank you Miss.”

  She pulled down her panties and had her step out of them and then secured her across the frame, pulling the straps tight on her wrists and ankles, her legs being spread by the sides of the frame.

  Tucking her skirt into the waistband Jemma began to spank her with her hand, quite lightly but Jane soon began to give out little moans as it was quite soon after Isabella’s punishment and there was quite a lot of bruising on her backside.

  Once she had got her warmed up she picked up the cane she had chosen for further punishment. Made of bamboo it was around four feet long and quite thin, painful but wouldn’t leave the bruising that a thicker, heavier cane would.

  Jemma swished the cane through the air and watched as Turner’s buttocks flexed as she waited fo
r the first strike. “Six Turner, count them clearly.”

  Laying the cane across the ward’s buttocks Jemma tapped lightly several times before lifting the bamboo back to shoulder height and bringing it down hard on to the pliant flesh.

  “Urgh! One Miss, thank you.” Jane pressed her knees in tighter to the frame as she felt the bite of the cane.

  Jemma counted thirty seconds in her head as the Headmaster had taught her and then laid another stroke just above the first.

  “Ohh! Two, thank you Miss.”

  The next went below the first and as Jane gasped out, “Three, thank you Miss,” Jemma laid a fourth as far down as she could on the wards quivering buttocks. “Oh! Oh! Oh! F...F...F...Five Miss, th...th...thank you.”

  Jemma stepped back and braced herself before unleashing the last stroke just below her waist as hard as she could. Always make a ward remember a punishment, the Headmaster had told her.

  “Sssss...Six, thank you Miss.” Tears began to run down Jane’s cheeks, she couldn’t remember crying much before she came here, but the Headmaster had changed that. When he had a ward in for punishment they were punished until they broke. Jane was tough and had tried to outlast her tormentors, but they weren’t to be denied. Now the tears and the pleading came a lot easier.

  Jemma rubbed the tramlines, which were evenly placed over Jane’s backside, with a thumb nail. She gently rubbed the girl for a moment and then unstrapped her and put her up against the wall while she filled in her punishment record.

  Allowing her to rub away the throbbing sting of the cane she had Jane stand in front of her again.

  “So Miss Turner, are we clear on why you have been punished?”

  “Yes Miss, thank you Miss. I have to obey the rules, Miss.” That was the most difficult thing Jane had to accept here, outside she had been in charge, she had made the rules. In here she had no power at all.

  She would realise, when she was released, that she wouldn’t be able to control people like she had before and that her career as a drug runner would be over. She had given up all control to strangers, and now thought about how her actions would impact others.