An Assembly to Remember
All characters are at least 18 years of age.
Moments before 8:00 on Friday morning, Sarah Gillespie made her way into the grand assembly room at Saint Eloise's Academy for Girls along with all of her fellow students. She knew what awaited her at the end of the assembly, but none of her classmates had any idea. Some of the ones sitting near her might have gotten an inkling, though, based on her tense and shaking demeanor and the downward tilt of her head. She was usually outgoing, a teacher's pet, a social butterfly. Now she was quiet and pale and sealed off. She knew she deserved what was coming but the anticipation driving her wild inside.
Assembly took place on the first Friday morning of every month. It always started with a solemn prayer from the chancellor, then went into general updates, changes in schedules or policies, and announcements of upcoming sporting events, recent student accomplishments, acceptances into prestigious universities, and the like. Then, sometimes at the very end, corporal discipline would be announced and carried out. Being disciplined at assembly was a big deal and carried out with great ceremony. No one ever had to accept corporal discipline. Most minor infractions, of levels 1-3, for things like minor dress code violations, tardiness, speaking out of turn would be punished only with short detention after class. Levels 4-6, things like more provocative dress code violations, minor disobedience, curfew violations of less than thirty minutes, and such, were generally punished with half or full Saturday work days, where the students cleaned up trash around campus and beautified the trails in the nearby woods. Saturday work days were fast paced and physically demanding but could almost feel like a party depending on who was there. It wasn't a severe punishment.
But for more serious violations, levels 7 and up, like lying, stealing, cheating, or any form of violence or bullying, students had two options: (1) a formal disciplinary hearing before the board that could result in anything from a reprimand to expulsion, but any punishment they imposed would result in a permanent notation on a student's transcript; or (2) a public confession and corporal punishment at assembly with no mark on your record. If you chose the corporal discipline, the number and manner of your strokes at assembly were based on your age and the level of your offense. Levels 7 and 8 meant a bare paddling with the number of strikes equal to the level of offense times your age, divided by your grade level, rounded up. So level 8 for an 18-year-old 12th grader would come out to 12 strokes with the paddle. Levels 9 and 10 meant a bare caning with the same formula, times 1.5. So level 10 for that same student would mean 23 strokes with the cane.
There was a well-developed and universally understood student culture around corporal discipline. Everyone knew that anything that happened at a formal hearing would be worse in the long term, so if given the choice, you always take the corporal option. Anyone who opted for a hearing would be endlessly shamed and ridiculed. If you had a spanking coming, your peers expected you to own up to whatever you did to deserve it and take it stoically. Everyone knew it was impossible to withhold tears after more than a few strikes, but there was pressure to hold out as long as you could. You could gain serious credibility among your peers for handling a serious punishment well.
Sarah sat fidgeting and stewing as the chancellor, Dr. Alice Desrochers, droned on about whatever the announcements and updates of the day were. All Sarah could think about was the excruciating pain she was about to endure in front of everyone. She just hoped she could take it well. Dr. Desrochers concluded her updates and stated, "and now, I think Sarah Gillespie has something she needs to share with all of you." Everyone knew what that meant, and everyone was shocked that it was Sarah of all people who "needed to share" something.
Sarah stood up, feeling the full weight of her peers' expectations, and slowly marched down the center aisle of the hall, turned right toward the stairs, and rose to the stage. Dr. Desrochers asked her to proceed and handed her the microphone.
Sarah paused for a moment, feeling a sense of dread knowing that she might lose all of her credibility with her peers and teachers for what she was about to confess, but also feeling a hint of relief that she was about to accept the consequences and hopefully begin to start afresh.
"Near the end of last semester, I was visiting the course website for Mrs. Anderson's European History course. I was looking for study aides and flashcards that are often posted there, and as I clicked through various links, one of them prompted me to put in Mrs. Anderson's login credentials. I didn't know them, so I navigated back. Later that night, I was watching pornography on a different window on my phone over a VPN to avoid the school's content blockers. After I was finished, I turned back to studying, and was still connected via VPN. I refreshed the browser on my phone with the course website still loaded, and this time, it took me directly to Mrs. Anderson's home screen on her computer. I do not know how that occurred, and I understand from IT professionals that there was a glitch that allowed me to bypass her login if I was connected over VPN.
"But there I was, and I knew I should not have been there. I went to her "My Documents" folder and found the final exam questions. I screenshotted the essay questions, and prepared essay responses before the exam ever happened. I knew it was wrong, and I cheated all of you, and myself. The school's IT staff confronted me, and I denied everything. I even convinced my parents I needed a new phone, so I traded in the one that I used to gain access. The photos of the exam questions were backed up on my cloud drive, though, which I accessed while connected to the school's network. The IT staff confronted me with the photos on the school's network, and I confessed.
"I know I should have clicked away once I was on Mrs. Anderson's home screen, and I know I made matters worse by failing to confess immediately when confronted. I have nothing to say in my defense, and a formal disciplinary hearing would be pointless. I have voluntarily consented to a level 8 corporal discipline, which for me comes out to 12 strikes of the paddle, knowing fully well that the pain will be excruciating and the ordeal humiliating. I will also accept a failing grade in that course. I hope that your witness to my tears will help serve as the first step to all of you being able to forgive and reaccept me."
Without needing any prompting, Sarah stood behind the podium to protect her modesty from the frontal view, removed her skirt and panties, and placed her hands on each of the podium's sides--partaking in the ritual she had observed time and again at assembly. At that moment, a voice arose from the crowd.
"No, I can't watch her take this alone." It was Emily Prescott, Sarah's closest friend for her whole life. "Sarah would have done just fine in European History without cheating. She might have gotten an A- instead of an A+ but she would have done fine. I was the one failing. She screenshotted those questions because she knew that they would help me. I prepared answers for them. I still got a B, not even a B+, but it saved me from an F. If I had known Sarah was caught and anyone had asked me about this I would have confessed immediately. I can't watch her take this alone."
Dr. Desrochers looked at Sarah and asked, "is this true?"
Sarah looked at Emily and nodded yes.
"Then your confession was not complete. Your punishment today will go forward but you will need to be punished separately for your failure to be completely forthcoming."
"Please, Chancellor, I will accept level 9 discipline today. Everything Emily says is true."
"Very well," the Chancellor replied.
Emily piped back up. "In that case, I want a level 9 discipline too, right now. I deserve every stroke Sarah gets.
"Then come on up," the chancellor replied.
The other students sat in awe of what was unfolding before them. No one had received a level 9 discipline in over a decade, long before any of them were there. They had seen many and many paddlings, but level 9 meant the cane. It was almost legendary.
Emily rose from her seat and took the stage ready to demonstrate both her contrition and her solidarity.
Chancellor Desrochers walked behind the curtain to retrieve the cane that had hung from a hook on the wall, undisturbed for 12 years. She smiled nostalgically as she held it again and swiftly whipped it through the air to test its flexibility. Its audible whoosh demonstrated that it still worked; it sent a chill through the spine of everyone in attendance.
"You know that if you release your hands from the podium during your caning, it will start over from the beginning, correct?" she asked Sarah.
"Yes, I understand."
"And a level 9 for you, work out that math for me, how many times must I strike you with the cane?" she asked
"I'm 18, so 9 times 18, which is, um, 9 squared times 2, so that's 81 times two or 162, and then that divided by the 12th grade so, that's um, well, let's see, 162 divided by 12..." she closed her eyes to do the long division in her head, "that's 13 and a half, so round up to 14, and then it's level 9 discipline so add half again, that's 7 more, so a total of 21 strikes, Chancellor."
"Very good."
Sarah began processing the prospect of 21 cane strikes and began literally shivering with fear at the thought. She knew fully well that the social expectation was to retain composure and hold back tears as long as possible, but she started crying immediately after she said the number 21 out loud."
"Embrace your tears, Sarah. They are a crucial part of your punishment. Let them stream down your face, searing your cheeks as a constant reminder of your wrongdoing. This pain is meant to be overwhelming - a physical manifestation of the guilt and shame you should feel for straying from the path of righteousness. And even when the pain eventually subsides, do not let its memory fade. Keep it close, like a weapon in your arsenal against temptation. Let it serve as a warning, a constant sting that reminds you of the consequences of choosing the easy, but immoral, path."
"Thank you, Chancellor. I am ready."
The first stroke fell almost instantly, and Sarah gasped in shock at the power of the sting.
The second stroke fell only a few seconds later, and it seemed like the pain was twice as strong as the first. Sarah's eyes widened in awe of how much intensely her nerve endings could fire.
After the third stroke, her crying gave way to uncontrolled sobbing, tears pouring freely down her cheeks and pooling onto the wood of the podium.
The strokes continued like clockwork, at perfectly even intervals of maybe 4 or 5 seconds between them. The cumulative afterburn became overwhelming; waves of pain overcame her body. Her hips twitched, her glutes tensed, and her back arched with each stroke.
"Control yourself," Chancellor Desrochers ordered.
"I'm trying my best," Sarah responded.
"Try harder."
Sarah's tears turned into guttural sobs as she desperately tried to tense her body up, but it was futile. The podium became a symbol of her humiliation and she cringed with each stroke that landed on her skin. By the 20th strike, Sarah's body was shaking uncontrollably, every muscle clenched in anticipation of the next blow. But then, unexpectedly, the Chancellor paused. Sarah's entire being was frozen in fear, waiting for the inevitable resuming of the brutal rhythm. Her glutes squeezed so tightly they threatened to cramp, and her skin was covered in goosebumps. She was trembling violently, teeth chattering in fear and pain. A full minute dragged by in agonizing silence.
"Let this final stroke be the one you remember forever." The cane sliced through the air with a loud whistle before landing on the back of her legs, eliciting an ear-piercing scream from Sarah. She felt like her flesh was being ripped apart and her vision blurred with tears.
"That concludes your caning, Sarah. Pull up your underwear. Stand aside while I tend to Emily. And keep your hands clasped behind your head. You don't deserve to ease the pain in your bottom. You are still being punished."
Sarah obeyed in silence, biting her lip until it bled as she fought back another wave of agonizing pain.
"Emily, you may prepare yourself now," Dr. Desrochers declared.
Emily stood behind the podium, stripped from the waist down, and grabbed its sides. She was finding herself intensely and unexpectedly aroused by the situation, and her arousal had escalated while watching Sarah's ordeal. She would try to suppress it, but there was no denying it was there.
"I'm ready," she stated as calmly as possible, but her voice cracking slightly.
"You heard the comments I gave Sarah before her caning?"
"Yes, ma'am. I understand that they apply equally to me. I am the same age and grade as Sarah, so the number of strokes will be the same for me. I know what I deserve and I'm at peace with the pain you're about to inflict."
"Very well," the chancellor replied.
Before she could react, the first strike swiftly descended. Emily held back her initial tears longer than Sarah did, but they flowed freely by the fifth stroke, and sobs soon gave way to wails. She found herself intensely aroused as well by the 7th or 8th, and found herself making the very same movements."
"Control yourself," Dr. Desrochers commanded for the second time that morning.
"What if I can't, Miss?" she muttered through tears.
"Control what you can."
"Miss, what if...what if I can't stop my... oh no," she said through gasps and escalating breaths.
"Emily, try to hold it back." The strokes continued with brutal force, each one causing Emily's entire body to convulse and her hips to involuntarily gyrate in a primal response. She desperately tried to suppress the building climax, but with each stroke she felt herself getting closer to the edge. Then, just as with Sarah, Dr. Desrochers paused after the 20th stroke, leaving Emily on the brink of ecstasy. Her body tensed up in anticipation, knowing what was about to come next.
Dr. Desrochers gave the same cold-hearted speech she had given to Sarah about this being the stroke to remember. Emily's body meanwhile continued its crescendo of arousal. "I'm so sorry, miss. It's going to happen whether I want it to or not." She looked pleadingly at Sarah, who could only watch helplessly. "Sarah, please understand,this is not why I volunteered for this." Sarah nodded compassionately.
Then it happened. The final stroke landed powerfully across Emily's already raw and tender skin. She erupted in a mixture of agony and ecstasy on the podium as her organs of pleasure convulsed more powerfully than they ever had before. Her body writhed uncontrollably and her vocal cords involuntarily shrieked in her surrender to bodily pleasure. Her upper body collapsed on top of the podium as she experienced waves of intense pleasure that she couldn't even comprehend in the midst of such agony.
The shocked students in the audience sat with their mouths agape, witnessing a punishment unlike anything they had ever seen before. But Chancellor Desrochers showed no sign of acknowledgement or remorse for what she had just done - using corporal punishment to induce a young woman to orgasm in front of her peers.
She simply uttered the same emotionless words as before: "You are finished. Pull up your underwear and stand to the side. You will not soothe your bottom. It is intended to still hurt. You are still being punished." And with that, Emily was left standing there, quivering and trembling from both physical and emotional pain, while her mind reeled from the intense and conflicting sensations that had just consumed her.
Emily took a moment to recover but then silently complied. "
Sarah addressed the chancellor in a quiet tone, "Dr. Desrochers, may I make one respectful request?"
"You may, but I might not grant it."
"May I hug Emily? She did not have to put herself through what she just endured, and she did so completely out of solidarity of friendship. I cannot believe that she did so, and I want her and everyone to know how grateful I am."
"Yes, go ahead."
They embraced each other in tears, and their classmates stood and cheered.
Meanwhile, Jacqueline and Lori, close friends of both Sarah and Emily, silently exchanged nervous and guilt-ridden glances, knowing that Sarah had written papers for both of them, and for many others.
- The anticipation of her impending punishment at the assembly made Sarah feel wild internally, despite knowing she deserved it.
- Sarah's peers expected her to own up to her mistakes and take her spanking stoically during the assembly.
- The assembly was a significant event where major violations could lead to a public confession and corporal punishment, such as caning, without any record markings.
- Emily felt a sense of shock and guilt when she realized her role in Sarah's situation, leading her to volunteer for a level 9 corporal discipline to share Sarah's ordeal.