I didn't see that coming

I love Lowewood cos it's the ultimate in roleplay fun. It's so well organised by the wonderful Mr Shaftbotham and Miss Bellend that the day goes off without a hitch, allowing us all to have a great time.

It's all about a group of people acting out their fantasies and having a good giggle along the way. Like playing jokes on the teachers such as Jemima's mastermind of changing the school song that ended up with Jessica getting spanked in assembly for continuing to play it!

Or the continuous ringing of phones in the classroom (even if I did end up getting my hands tawsed for it!) or having a pen so annoying that I got docked points for having 'inappropriate stationery'. And even if we do tend to get competitive at games, (well some of us more than others, my knees are still in bits from hurtling over the line in the relay race), generally the day is lots of good, clean, if somewhat painful, fun!

And as Caoilfhionn, I'm in my element, just letting go and being 16 again with not a care in the world. This Lowewood it was lovely to get to know 2 lovely new girls, Hannah and fellow Byron housemate and partner in crime Felicity. But while I expected the fun and giggly stuff, the teasing and the fear of getting caught, I was surprised to find myself getting into some intense headspace places during the day.

The first was in final assembly when points books were tallied and handed back and the coveted Father Smith Cup was awarded. I nearly burst with pride and excitement as Caoilfhionn won it for being the 'most sporting girl'. And I quite enjoyed waving it about and making a speech about how this was the second term in a row Byron House had won it.

But this lovely high was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling as the points books were handed out and I realised very quickly that I was probably not going to do well in the order of things. As all other 8 girls received their books back it was confirmed that once again I had the most negative house points of any of the girls, with -35!

Oh to go from the pride of winning the cup to the shame of being the worst girl in the school and how quickly it all happened. And when Mr Shaftbotham threatened to take the Father Smith Cup off me for being so badly behaved, the thought was so awful that to my utter embarrassment my eyes filled with tears of shame and misery. I quickly brushed them away hoping no-one noticed.

For a long 10 seconds I stared at the ground in horror feeling the utmost humiliation until he made his decision. It was painfully intense. Fortunately he decided to be lenient and instead sentenced me to detention with Rev Jenkins.

Considering that Rev Jenkins had caned me earlier in the day for my various crimes but had gone easy on me as it was the first time I'd been before him, I knew I was in big trouble. I was ordered to stand outside while he dealt with Jemima first. Listening to her get caned was horrible and made me more on edge. I held my breath for every stroke, knowing I was going to be next. As she left the room we stole a quick hug before I had to go and meet my fate.

It was worse than even I had feared. He was in full-on lecture mode, making me hold my cup and points book as he spoke of my potential and berated me on my bad behaviour. Making me feel guilty about ruining the school's reputation, abusing his earlier leniency and worst of all letting myself down.

I felt every word keenly, Caoilfhionn has never been so properly derailed. Suddenly having crazy pens and blowing bubbles and texting in class wasn't funny anymore. I wanted to be a good girl. Warning me that this wasn't just a punishment but a proper discipline session, he made me remove my knickers and hand them to him. Then guided me over the bench and flipped my skirt up.

'One stroke for every negative point lost' he pronounced seriously 'and I mean to make them count.'

I braced myself clutching the bench and trying to breathe as I waited for the first stroke to fall. The it whipped down on my bare bottom and I whimpered before counting 'one, thank you Sir'. The strokes continued for some time at the same intensity and pace, peppered with his lecture. I was feeling dreadfully ashamed, swearing to myself that I would do better.

And still the strokes fell, each burning horribly, but I hung in and held my position. Until finally there was only 6 to go and he congratulated me on my bravery before promising these would be the hardest yet. Which indeed they were, each one feeling like a brand and I kicked my leg up in agony after each one.

Until it was over and I could breathe again. I blushed as he returned my knickers, observing silently as I winced pulling them up. Once I was dressed he stood me before him, lifted my chin until I met his eyes and made me promise to behave better, reminding me I had so much potential and that I had better not be bottom of the class again. And right then I so badly wanted to do better, wanted to make him proud.

Such intensity as that final hour of assembly and detention; I certainly never saw that coming!