Marigold’s Academy

Miss Marigold’s Academy for Young Ladies is possibly the most expensive girls school in the West of England. I have the good fortune to hold the position of games mistress at the establishment.

I have to state that sady Miss Marigold is no longer with us. Deceased, in fact utterly defunct. Happily though, Mr Henry Marigold, the late principal’s bachelor brother has taken over the reigns with good effect. Of course, he relies heavily on the support of his staff, and I am ready at all times, in my very small way, to offer my ready shoulder for him to lean on, if required. And to be sure, when dealing with over two hundred head-strong teanage young ladies, a gentleman as Mr. Marigold can sometimes get a little out of his depth. It is my delight to be at all times available when needed, as Mr Marigold is such an appreciative gentleman.

Marcia ~sedgewood (Sir Montgomery Sedgewood’s Girl) and her confederate Angela Fairbrass-Brown had perpetrated a series of minor disasters during the current term, and to put it bluntly had been a thorn in my side for some time.  Niggling things that t’was hard to put one’s finger on, but nonetheless one instinctively knew who the culprits were. Marcia avec Angela.

Came the afternoon when these bright young souls had been barred from the tennis courts by our zealous math’s mistress for some misdemeanour during a lesson. I personally signed a sigh of relief not having them in attendance.

It was towards the end of the recreation period that I chanced to glance towards the far pavilion and noticed the  presence of puffs of smoke drifting from behind a tree rooted in the foreground. Leaving the main body of girls to enjoy their practice. I went across to investigate.

Need I say that I found Sedgewood and Fairbrass Brown consuming tobacco. At last I had due cause to administer these two madams into the authority of Mr Henry Marigold.

Henry, quite rightly was horrified, being an ardent abstainer, and he decreed that each should receive three cuts of the cane across the palms of their hands forthwith.

Marcia was first, and our principal positively exploded on noticing the garish paint on her fingernails. A cardinal infringement of school rules.

This naturally brought his attentiveness  to bear on what infringements may be apparent.

Anela, I must say, is a somewhat well developed young lady for her age, and now under close scrutiny from our principal, it was obvious that beneath her vest hery very ripe breasts were unfettered.

“I want your coats and your gym vests off at once.” Henry commanded.

The two girls, now greatly subdued, nay terrified, did as bid, and of course neither were wearing the regulation brassiere that Miss Marigold in her time had insisted that all girls should wear from the age of twelve.

Henry positively fumed at such a gross infringement of the rules and it was no longer a question of a mild corrective punishment. Oh no. Henry directed Miss Fairbrass-Brown across his desk, and seating himself comfortably, indicated to the errant Miss to get across his lap.

Her brief regulation knickers were swiftly pulled to knee level and our principal proceeded to larrup that full rounded bottom with the full force of his large muscular hand.

The creamy white orbs swiftly turned crimson under a multitude of well placed blows, and it was not until Angela had been reduced to a very tearful, apologetic, and very humiliated young lady , that Henry released his firm grip on her.

Directing his attention to the now terrified Marcia, he proclaimed that as:

A: She was the girl who actually had the cigarette packet in her possession.

B: The question of the absent brassiere, and

C: The offending nail varnish

He had no option but to administer a far heavier punishment than the one he had given to Angela.

Marcia was made to lean across the table, hands to the wall, whilst six very well placed with the cane were released on her trembling buttocks. Not giving a moment of time for the sting to subside, Henry then had the sobbing girl over his knees to complete the punishment. His heavy palm rained down on her blistering reddened cheeks, whist I assisted restraining her by placing my hands on her shoulders.

“You stupid cow. It’s all your fault I’m getting this,” she mumbled through her tears.

Henry looked at me.

“Did you hear that?” he questioned.

I nodded.

“Well, in view of what she has just called you, I feel that you should be allowed to complete the punishment.”

And I assure you that I did. With much relish.

The punishment over, Henry, the gentleman that he is, comforted the two girls, and with promises from them both that they would look to their behaviour in the future, he allowed them the rest of the afternoon off to go back to their dormitory and soothe each others smarting derrieres.

I was about to leave the study as well when Henry stopped me.

“Delia, I notice by the protuberance of nipple through your vest, that you too appear to be lacking in an undergarment. Not a very good example to the girls. Would you not agree? Come hear.”

And how could I do otherwise. Henty Marigold is such a gentleman.

Kane Magazine by Harrison Marks

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