EDUCATION

                            by

                         Goodgulf



    "I still can't believe you still have caning at your school," 
Amy told her aunt over breakfast.

    "I don't set the policy," Jane replied.

    "But you send girls to the office, don't you?" Amy challenged.  
"That makes you a cog in the system."

    "No, it makes me a well-paid teacher," Jane retorted.  "One 
with full benefits."

    "But still...."

    "Honey, I don't set policy -- I just follow it.  If I didn't 
follow school policy, then I'd be let go and have to find a new 
job.  Then I couldn't afford to play host to nieces visiting from 
America."

    Amy blushed a bit at that.  When she had arranged this trip, 
she thought that her Aunt Jane would be done for the summer, but 
of course her school year continued on after Amy's college let out. 
Amy knew she was being a poor guest, but she couldn't let it go.

    "It's barbaric, that's what it is," she continued.

    "But you don't know what it is, do you?" Jane asked 
rhetorically.  "You've heard the words but you don't 
really understand what it entails."

    "So?" Amy challenged.

    "So I can fix that," Jane informed her niece.  "In my closet 
there's a school uniform that I wore last Halloween, and it should 
fit you.  You could pass for a girl in the Upper Six, and I could 
fill out a note about you.  Change into the uniform and drop by 
the school around noon, and you'll learn what six of the best 
feels like."

    "Like hell I will!"

    "Language!" Jane said.

    Before she left for work, Jane took the time to root around in 
her closet.

    "I left the uniform on my bed," she said as she walked out the 
door.

    "I won't need it," Amy protested.

    "Well, in case you change your mind it's there," Jane called 
back.

		******************************

    Alone, with nothing to do, Amy finally changed into the 
uniform, just to see herself in the mirror.  Well, most of the 
uniform; she didn't feel like trying on her aunt's knickers, and 
the socks looked stupid to her.  Gazing into the mirror, Amy 
tried to picture herself getting a caning, but couldn't.  Having 
never worn a school uniform before, Amy thought she looked quite 
odd.

    "I wonder if Aunt Jane would recognise me in this," she 
muttered.

    Of course she couldn't visit the school at noon, but she could 
drop by when Jane got off work....

		******************************

    That afternoon Amy found herself wandering the halls of an 
unfamiliar school.  She knew that her aunt should be around the 
chemistry lab, but had no idea where that was.  Passing girls 
that were dressed identically to her (except for the socks), Amy 
eventually stumbled across the main office and went in to ask 
directions.

    The woman behind the desk looked up at her and said, "Yes?"

    "Um, hi.  I'm looking for my Aunt Jane.  She teaches chemistry 
here."

    "Ah, yes.  I'll just buzz you through."

    Amy was impressed; she didn't know that her aunt had her own 
office.

    Moments later she learnt from two muscular ladies that Jane 
did not have an office.  She also learnt that being late for her 
noon caning meant that two more strokes would be added to the six. 
When they noticed her socks she learnt that each infraction of the 
dress code earned her an extra stroke, and two wrong socks meant 
two extra strokes.  That led to a quick inspection, and, when they 
discovered her thong, there was talk about doubling her sentence, 
but a quick bit of negotiation kept the total at ten -- provided 
the offending article was removed and her skirt stayed up for the 
caning.

    Amy was still sobbing when Jane found her.  Jane talked a bit 
to the two women, then bundled Amy out of the school and into her 
car before Amy remembered that she wasn't wearing anything under 
her school skirt.

    "It was horrible!" Amy sobbed.  "How could you sentence a girl 
to that?"

    "Well, I don't." Jane said matter-of-factly.  "I send then for 
six over their skirts and knickers, not ten on the bare.  But don't 
worry; I worked things out."

    "You did?  Are those women going to be fired?" Amy sobbed.

    "No, but next week you'll be going back and will find out what 
a proper caning feels like.  Six of the best the way it's usually 
given."

    Amy didn't believe her aunt, but a week later she was back in 
that room and learning what a standard punishment felt like.

		******************************




                      FURTHER EDUCATION

                             by

                         Imreadonly




I really didn't think my punishment was fair, and I told Aunt Jane 
as much. "I don't see why I was held accountable for uniform 
infractions at a school I've never even attended," I said.  "How 
was I to know what stupid socks and panties I was to wear?"

Aunt Jane sipped her tea, as calm and collected as if we were 
discussing the weather.  "As for the first part, you were attending 
the school, if only for the afternoon, and you were caned for your 
tardiness and poor attitude as much as for your uniform infraction. 
As for the second part, the fact that the panties and socks were 
left lying on the bed made it perfectly clear that they were part 
of your uniform, and, as such, were to be worn with pride."

Pride! If I live to be 100, I will never forget the sinking feeling 
I had the first time I saw my image reflected in the mirror.  The 
idiotic white knee socks and the bottle green skirt and blazer 
(complete with the school crest on the jacket pocket), made me, a 
21-year-old American college student, look every bit the English 
school girl.

"That's entirely the point, my dear," my aunt said, chuckling as 
she took another sip.  "When you are in your uniform, you ARE a 
schoolgirl, subject to the rules, answerable to the adults, and 
under the command of the cane."

But I WAS already an adult, and the thought of being treated as 
anything less was deeply humiliating.  But it was, I confess, 
also strangely exciting?

As if reading my thoughts, Aunt Jane said, "Perhaps your appearance 
in the Head's Office next week would be easier if you attended 
classes as a student.  That would allow you to get to used to the 
uniform, and the rules, and, most importantly, the proper way of 
addressing your betters."

I bristled at the word "betters," but in truth the whole idea was 
so shocking that, as soon as that momentary indignity passed, I 
simply stood staring at Aunt Jane, mouth agape.

A week at school.  In uniform.

I'd take the bus, of course, and everyone would see me.  The 
neighbors who had met Aunt Jane's sophisticated 21-year-old 
niece, Amy, would now have the pleasure of seeing the same 
young woman standing at the school bus stop in her school 
skirt and blazer.

There would be the class work, of course, strange no doubt because 
it was English, and harder still because I was joining at the very 
end of term.

And doubtlessly some of the other girls (and perhaps some of the 
teachers) might not like Americans.

In a previous conversation, Aunt Jane joked about the large gang 
showers, which she had thought were more suited to a prison than 
a girl's school.  I had always hated these sorts of showers, and 
now of course now I would face the additional indignity of 
parading my freshly striped bottom for the gym teachers and other 
girls to see.  Doubtlessly my welts would invoke tremendous 
curiosity...and more than a bit of teasing.

When I faced the headmaster next week it would not be as an 
American college student, or a visitor in a Halloween costume.  
I would be a schoolgirl, no doubt about it.  A schoolgirl 
sentenced to six of the best.

My voice was tremulous and halting, almost a whisper.  "Should I 
change now?" I asked.



Edited by C. Lakewood