A REGULAR ROUTE

                             by

                         Imreadonly



The clock struck 3:00.  Abigail sprinted down the pavement and 
leapt from the curb, jumping onto the bus seconds before the 
doors closed.

The bus was crowded, and she made her way to the back.  As she 
turned and reached up to grab the strap, she heard the sound of 
feminine laughter followed by a long, slow whistle.

She turned.  Her grip on the strap had caused her excruciatingly 
short school uniform skirt to rise up, revealing her fresh cane 
marks for everyone to see.

From behind her, she heard a snide female voice.  "My, it appears 
someone has been naughty.  Those look like real sizzlers."

A young woman was smiling up at her.  Abigail felt the blood rush 
to her face as she realized that all of the passengers, male and 
female, were now staring at the cane marks across the backs of her 
slender thighs.

"Six of the best, eh lassie?" one man snickered.

"More like a baker's dozen," the woman corrected.  "See how 
symmetrical they are?  With that spacing I'd say she has at 
least 13 or 14, going all the way up her naughty little 
backside."

Abigail bit her lip as the passengers chuckled at her expense. 
"How old are you, dear?" the woman asked.

"I'm 22, miss," Abigail replied, her voice a whisper.  

"Miss Samantha, if you please, sweetheart," the woman murmured.

One of the college boys in the back leaned forward for a better 
view.  "Cool!  The schoolgirl's American!"

"I met a woman on the Internet," Abigail explained.  "I confessed 
I was interested in...corporal punishment...you know, the 'English' 
way.  Anyway, she suggested I visit her for the summer.  The next 
thing I know, she'd taken my passport and clothes and enrolled me 
at Tristan Reformatory."

"Oh dear!" Samantha chuckled.  "And now you have to ride back and 
forth to her flat in your darling little uniform, with your cane 
marks on display for the whole world to enjoy."

"Seems like someone got a bit more humiliation than she bargained 
for," an old woman cackled.

"Serves her right," an old man snorted.  "Americans are all born 
brats.  They all need a dance with the cane."

"Do they cane bare?" one of the college boys asked eagerly.

Abigail, blushing crimson, nodded.

Samantha laughed as she rose to get off the bus.  "You poor dear.  
Forced to touch your toes, knickers round your knees, while some 
leering old headmaster lays on your stripes.  You have quite a 
summer ahead of you," she chortled.

She got off the bus.  Abigail remained on for four more stops, 
blushing and squirming as the passengers discussed the merits 
of "just discipline" applied to a "saucy American bottom."

Then she got off the bus and ran as fast as she could, barely 
making the 3:30.

As she turned and reached up to grab the strap, she heard the 
sound of feminine laughter followed by a long, slow whistle, 
and the snide voice of Samantha, her friend from the Internet.  
"My, it appears someone has been naughty.  Those look like real 
sizzlers...."



Edited by C. Lakewood