An Examination

"Owieee!!", the bare-bottomed girl bent over a chair in front of George squeals. The reaction was good; the fact that the latest (and only the fourth overall) line raised across her otherwise uniformly red cheeks was clearly at an angle rather than horizontal and parallel to the previous ones was less so. George sighs and lowers the light "training" cane in exasperation. He does not need to look at Mrs Matlock's face to see the disappointment on it.

"How do we place our strokes, George?", the woman asks. Sometimes George wished she was a few years younger and in the punishable age again. Alas, he turned 18 a few months after she turned 40 (he saw her birthday on her ID by accident a while back, he was not familiar with the exact age of every of his teachers). In any case, she had a point now.

"Strokes must be parallel as far as possible; one must aim to place up to twelve strokes across the cheeks without overlapping. While it is acceptable for a caning to break skin from the sheer combined ****, this must not be accelerated by crossing strokes prematurely", he recites his "Intermediary Staff Relations for Management Students Practical Guide, 2nd ed." obediently. "Sorry, Ma'am", he adds, rather meaning it. He was finally allowed to move from a sensor-rigged mannequin to a teaching assistant and he failed before reaching even the six-stroke mark in his first attempt. He expects to be scolded and told to continue and do better, but when Mrs Matlock speaks again, her voice is surprisingly soft and understanding.

"I know you can do it, George", she says. "Honestly, I feel you are just overthinking it. Relax, take a day off even. You still have a week before the exam and you got all other implements to perfection." George sighs again, but her words are comforting. That is exactly what he will do. He can still read up on other things, of course, but he will not worry about the practical, just for a day or two. It can be very useful to switch one's mind.

"Thank you, Ma'am, I'll do that", he says. Mrs Matlock pats the teaching assistant's bare bottom, telling her to get up, which the girl gingerly does. She must consider herself quite lucky, George muses, as he reaches for the spray and paper towels to disinfect the cane before replacing it on the rack. Teaching assistance for corporal punishment was always a bit of a lottery. Sometimes the girl could end up beaten black and blue, sometimes she could get an incompetent idiot whose practice will be cut short after four strokes. Some girls were sent to do this as punishment; others actually volunteered for extra credits.

"Ugh, I cannot believe you talked me into volunteering for this, Mum", George hears the girl say to Mrs Matlock. The address catches his attention, he had no clue she was his teacher's daughter. He turns around to see the girl finish readjusting her panties under her now replaced skirt. She is very pretty, he now realises, not really having seen her face before. Only the nether parts of her anatomy were visible previously. Mrs Matlock chuckles. "If you wanted to do the chess club instead for extracurricular, believe me, newbies' butts don't fare too well there either", she says. "I'll see you at home dear, try to get some studying done". The girl grins. "I will, bye, Mum!"

She turns to the doors of the hall and on an impulse George approaches her. "Hi, I'm George", he says somewhat bluntly. "Hi. Aubrey", she replies. "Can I help?". If there is an appropriate pick-up line for this, it is carefully evading George's head so he equally bluntly admits that he knows it is weird but still asks if he could have her number.

"Do you ask out every girl you've just spanked?", Aubrey asks. "No, just the ones whose mothers I depend on to pass my practical", George replies. The joke is risky, but Aubrey laughs. "I'll do one better then", she says. "You can buy me a coffee now, no need to schedule for later. I'll just need to find a cushioned seat". She takes her phone out. "What's your number, I'll text you?"

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

A week later George is waiting for Aubrey at the examination hall entrance. His face is one wide grin; he aced his practical. His caning was still questionable, but luckily it never actually came to test. His two implements were a riding crop (all six strokes landed perfectly on the underside on the assistant's left breast as instructed) and a long heavy paddle (two strokes which doubtlessly even now were forming perfect and equal bruises across the back of her thighs).

He saw Aubrey a few places down the line of girls assisting with the exams (the candidates themselves were of about 65-35 male-female ratio, a yet-again-renewed record female enrolment). The first of his colleagues gave her perfectly recovered bottom six enviably perfect cane strokes and then strapped her inner thighs four times. The second used a ruler on her anus after Aubrey knelt on the desk with knees planted as widely as possible and held her cheeks open and then on her nipples. It was a bit unusual but not unheard of to test a candidate on the same implement twice. Unfortunately George did not have a chance to see what happened to her next as his own turn came and he was directed to leave the hall immediately afterwards to minimise any distractions. A backward glance on his way out told him she was fully nude now, which meant a whip was probably involved at some point.

As George's mind went back to the line of girls getting still spanked in a variety of ways, a part of him wondered how much of it was due to tradition and how much still applied today. Sure, girls do need guidance, but looking at his and Aubrey's budding relationship, he really was not sure who should be spanking whom, at least for academic matters. It turned out they shared a couple of classes and Aubrey seemed to be doing at least as well as he was in all. And better by a huge margin in one. He dismisses the silly thought, however. If it was not for spanking, they would not even get together. He would never have the courage to ask her out if he has not just caned her.

"Hiya!", Aubrey calls, emerging from the door, ahead of other girls. They are all fully dressed now. She pulls George into a tight hug. "Alice told me you did great, I asked her to take note of you when I saw you in her queue! Congratulations!" George did not know Aubrey knew the girl he spanked. He is being very careful not to squeeze anything likely to be too sensitive as he holds her close. She looks delighted, but she cannot entirely hide the understandably pained expression. "Well done on your hard-earned extra credit too!", he replies. "A celebratory drink tonight?" - "Just one. And then it's back to books for both of us, mister!", Aubrey grins, looking up at him.

The young couple heads away from the examination hall holding hands. The rest of the post-exam crowd is dissipating behind them too.