Playing School

I had a few days of feeling better last week, so I decided it was time to play.

On Friday, I was experimenting with making a pattern for a skirt for W. The first skirt I made fit me perfectly, which meant it would be a bit too snug for W., so I made another one out of the rest of the navy blue sheet I’d cut up. And then I realized I had two knee-length navy blue skirts, sized to fit each of us. I swear, this wasn’t actually intentional.

But given that I had the two skirts, I figured I’d go ahead and come up with a scene. So I walked to the dollar store and bought two ties to match the skirts, and then came home to write a note for W. from our “headmistress.”

Unfortunately, my timing was slightly off, so W. got home before I could finish the note or tape it to her door. No matter. I was in my study, so I waited until she was in the bedroom, and then slipped the note under the door.

The note read as follows:

As you know, it is your responsibility as head girl to maintain discipline among the girls in your house. It is still early in the term, so you may not be aware of one girl who is posing a serious discipline problem. I am bringing her to your attention, because we hope you can encourage her to behave properly, so that your house will not lose points. This would be a shame, as the rest of the form is quite disciplined and studious, and they stand a good chance at winning the house trophy.

J., the new girl in your form, has been a constant disciplinary problem. She rarely completes her prep work. When the teachers have set her extra work, she has ignored them, or responded rudely. Last week, she even swore at Mademoiselle.

Outside of class, she has refused to participate in any games, and she has encouraged the other girls in her group to do likewise. While they have continued to participate, discipline is eroding among her group.

You may have noticed several of her pranks. She, and the other girls, believe they are funny, but the senior class was not amused to find their beds short-sheeted, nor were the youngest girls pleased to find that the salt shakers had been filled with sugar last Friday.

In addition, I myself found her out of bounds without permission last Saturday, and also found her using the computers in the library after lights out this Tuesday. Matron has complained that her clothes are rarely in good repair, and that she refuses to mend them. I am sure you have noticed that her uniform is frequently quite sloppy.

Please deal with this situation before it gets completely out of hand.

Sincerely,

E. Bumsworthy
Head, Blyton House

While I waited for W. to read the note, I changed into my “uniform.” She called me into the bedroom, completely in role. The first thing she did was hand me a pair of her pants that I’ve been saying I’d mend for the last month or more, and tell me to mend them. I sat and did this while she changed into her uniform. (Perhaps we should keep this in mind for future mending tasks, because it only took a few minutes, and it’s more fun to do things like that as part of a scene!)

Then she had me stand and face her while she gave me a long lecture about my behavior, and about how I needed to behave better. She informed me that it was a special thing to be a member of our school, and a privilege to be a member of our house. Then she tallied up my various misdemeanors and let me know I’d get 100 strokes with clothes, or fifty without.

I was doing my best to be a surly student, although it was hard. W. was so reasonable and firm that I’m sure, had she really been my head girl, I would have caved and apologized immediately. Instead, I tried to stick to the role of a student who resented being sent to the school, and thought all of the rules were stupid and below her.

But W. made me lay across the bed, and paddled my bottom firmly for my various transgressions, lecturing as she went. When she was done, she told me she hoped she wouldn’t have to punish me again, and told me I would have to make amends to the people I had been so disrespectful to.

Afterwards, I checked in; W. had enjoyed the scene, because so much was already set up. I enjoyed writing the letter, and it’s always fascinating to me the way she can make a scene her own, even if it all started out in my head. I wouldn’t have thought of the mending (this is probably why mending sits around for months in our house!), and her lecture about the honor of the house was inspired.

We’d had so much fun that I wrote another letter on Saturday, in preparation for our usual Sunday “night” (which we actually had in the morning, because we were expecting a guest). That note from the head of our house complimented W. on her success in bringing such a change in my behavior, but let her know that I had a real problem with using too much foul language and slang. That brought on quite a lecture, and a much harder spanking. (I don’t know yet whether I’ll suggest the use of soap in the future… it might turn out to be like writing lines: more fun to imagine than to experience.)

We’ll definitely do this again. And I sadly informed W. that the reformation she inspired in me after those first spankings wasn’t going to be permanent… because where would the fun be in that?