When homework is handed in/or posted it will be kept in your folder and marked when you visit Miss, if any pupil wishes to see their homework in their folders at any time then by all means ask.

Homework Assignment

I've been tormenting Miss Shanelle for quite a long time, and although she had had a chance to
'discuss' my behaviour at Whitby, she had made it clear that she had not got to the bottom of
the problem, and wanted a chance for a more in-depth discussion.

Work commitments meant that I had to travel up to Manchester in mid-March, and I felt honour
bound to inform Miss Shanelle of this, and so a date was set for me to atone for my crimes.
I didn't think there would be many!

I arrived at the house and we chatted for ages. I even managed to add a few more misdemeanours
to the list. (Not clever.) Miss Shanelle also produced several scary, evil looking items
from her bags of weapons of mass destruction. (And yes, I did say bags!)

When the time came I was told to change into uniform - I suddenly felt all of sixteen years
old (or at times even younger.) I knocked on the door and was told to enter. Miss Shanelle
did not approve of the way I was wearing my school cap, so I was told to wear it properly, and
then to take it off. I wish she'd make her mind up! I was then asked why I was there,
and I had to truthfully answer "I don't know - there could be any number of reasons."

The response was a loud tut! I was lectured, and told "I have better things to do you know.
" The hockey bag was emptied, and Miss Shanelle started telling me what was on the list,
and sorted through her implements deciding what I deserved. The array of weapons looked quite
intimidating. But then it was time.

Item number one. Saying 'snot fair'. I was told that would be dealt with by a hand spanking.
Three strokes for each occurrence - of which Miss Shanelle had recorded 73. I protested
(I think even saying I thought it was unfair), and the count was increased to 230 - then 250.
Miss Shanelle sat down on a straight backed chair, and I was told to get over her knees,
and then the spanking started. After about 50 strokes, she informed me that the counting
would start until I was bare bottomed. (And HOW unfair was that?) I was told to get up, and
remove my shorts - at which point it was discovered that I wasn't exactly wearing regulation
underpants. Well, I didn't KNOW! More whacks, and then finally the offending item was lowered.
And then the spanking started. I was told I didn't have to count, but periodically Miss Shanelle
asked me how many I had, and if my number disagreed with hers, she took the lower number.
I must have got 300 spanks before she decided the first crime had been dealt with.

I was told to stand, and she admired my red bottom for a few moments, before returning to the list.

Item number two was 'various postings on the Yahoo Group.' The tariff was sixty four strokes,
and a small brown leather paddle (which is not too bad on one side, and hard and horrid on the other)
was put to use. I suddenly realised I was in a fair bit of trouble.

The third crime was 'making frog jokes.' Just 'cos Miss Shanelle had told me she had pet frogs,
and I'd called them toads, or ask her if it was true frogs legs tasted like chicken - I didn't
think she'd suffer a sense of humour failure. I certainly didn't expect her to produce an
evil white slipper, with a very hard plastic sole. And I definitely didn't expect it to land
on my increasingly sore bottom forty two times. I was squirming by the time she'd finished with
me, and then I was sent to the corner for a few moments of 'quiet reflection', probably while
she got her breath back.

The next crime was a bit unfortunate. Apparently, her dog had started taking her slippers
(in fact she'd even taken one off her foot the previous evening), and Miss Shanelle decided
I had been training the dog. Fortunately, it wasn't another slipper (the dog had apparently
stolen all the harder ones) - instead it was one of her leather paddles - a purple one,
and was another 19 strokes.

I'd also foolishly suggested that some of Miss Shanelle's slippers were soft, and nothing to
be worried about. Well, some of the ones I'd seen pictures of didn't look threatening,
but having met the white one, I'd revised my opinion. It was dealt with by a red leather paddle,
and after 72 strokes with that, I think the paddle looked pale next to my bottom.

I was now told to stand up, and the next crime on the rap sheet was read out. Apparently,
I had implied that Miss Shanelle liked the occasional tipple, and it had been interpreted as
insinuating she was an alcoholic. Suffice it to say, Miss was 'not amused' and made her displeasure
felt with her holey leather paddle. You'd think the holes would make it lighter, so it would hurt less.
It didn't - the holes make it travel through the air faster - so it hurt more. I had to struggle
to count up to thirty two!

There was then a short stay of execution, before I was told that I had also made some
ageist remarks. Just ‘cos Miss had said she would soon be 40, I'd said something, and it
was recorded in the manila folder. She produced her favourite long brown strop, and I had to
count 16 strokes before she decided that I wouldn't accuse her of being old and past it again.

The list continued with me calling other pupils, like Snobby, names. There was also reference
to my calling Ashlea, Ashbrat, but Miss decided that that particular error of judgement
had been adequately dealt with at Whitby. She picked up her new custom made strap,
and proceeded to whack me with it fifteen times, leaving me gasping.

I was also accused of making sarcastic comments. I said 'I'd NEVER do that' which was
interpreted as yet more sarcasm. (I just couldn't win, could I?) A holed strap was picked up,
and I got another 17 hard strokes.

By now, there wasn't much left in the collection of implements. But what was left looked
particularly wicked.

I was accused of snitching, and although I protested, I was rewarded with 5 strokes of the tawse.

I was also I'd used the word 'nuffink'. She picked up a leather paddle, drilled with holes
that looked suspiciously like an American wooden frat paddle and I was hit six times with that.
I stupidly said it was 'nuffink' to worry about, so I got another really hard stroke,
which definitely was something to worry about. I was very lucky it was only one and not six.

There were now two canes left on the couch - a thin whippy one, and a thick nasty senior one.
I was told what remaining in the folder - General Naughtiness (which sounded like
someone in the army) and mischievous behaviour (me? She must have had me
confused with someone else!)

The general naughtiness was dealt with by 46 strokes of the cane, and I was surprised the cane didn't
catch fire. The mischief resulted in 36 strokes of the senior cane, and by the end, I was surprised I
could sit. With that, the folder was closed. I went to pull my shorts up, but was told "oh, we're not
finished yet. I told you there was something else to be dealt with." I couldn't remember, and got
another loud tut. "I told you last night. Well, you've just proved my point."

Miss Shanelle sat back down on the chair, and told me to bend over. "It was lack of attention!"
She then proceeded to spank my very red, striped sore bottom over and over. I can only hope her hand
got sore doing it, because it went on for AGES and AGES.

And then finally I was told I could get up, and dismissed. At least she didn't make me sit on one of her hard wooden chairs.

I left rubbing my bottom, and vowing I wouldn't let my folder get quite so full in future.
I wonder if I'll succeed.

My satchel is crammed with school books (but no teddy)
with a catapult, pencil and ruler all ready.
If you glance at my uniform you will espy
I am wearing my knee high socks AND my school tie!

You KNOW I like lessons..especially English
but the thought of your cane leaves my bottom all tinglish
and I LOVE mathematics..I'm that sort of chap
(I never lose count when you're using that strap!)

Your plimsoll's best left, in your hockey bag stored,
well away in a corner behind the blackboard
We don't want an ashbrat getting ideas
about using said implement on our bare rears!

So this is my homework..but will your "surprise"
bring a smile to the face? Or tears to the eyes?
One cannot forget that at our last parting
my bottom was thoroughly sore, red and smarting!