Crushed

With my last two posts being about very hard scenes in terms of punishment and pain, I like to remind both you and me that I am really a headspace player and not actually a masochist. Pain without context doesn't work for me. And the more powerful the context, the deeper and more intense the reaction on my part.

And the first scene we played over Easter was such an example where the context was everything. Very light on pain, but very emotionally intense.

In the scene I was the school hockey captain. Haron was the captain of the Cheer leading squad and we were both senior prefects. (Haron was actually supposed to be my vice-captain but I had to demote her, she was far too cute to be a hockey player.)

We had just returned from an away match at Chillingham Academy that we had won 3:2, putting us on top of the league. As hockey captain I was very pleased with the result. The only fly in the ointment was that Mr Jenkins our games master had caught us attending an after lights out party organised by our hosts. Made worse by the fact we were enjoying a few illicit vodka and cokes when he burst in on us.

Our hosts had already been dealt with by their Headmaster and we were now waiting to be summoned in to visit our own Headmaster, Mr Higgins.

When the time of our appointment arrived we were duly scolded, first by Jenkins and then by Higgins. Our protests that it would have been rude to decline the invitation were met with some anger. Things didn't get any better when they figured out this may nit have been out first time at such a gathering and that we had bought the alcohol ourselves.

Still I insisted in feeling righteous and proud of our achievements, we had won the match after all, surely that was the most important thing. When a caning was pronounced I was sullen and determined to show that a few cane strokes couldn't get to me. I was the hockey captain after all!

Haron took 6 from Jenkins first. From my position against the wall they sounded like real stingers and I shuddered in sympathy. As we switched places I gave her hand a quick squeeze and then replaced her over the table. Knickers down and skirt up, bottom exposed and vulnerable. The 6 cuts were duly delivered, making me wince and hiss as each burned down. But I stayed in position determined to show no weakness.

Another 6 for Haron, this time from the Headmaster, sounding just as hard and painful. And then over again I went. Another 6 strokes rained down, but this time I didn't even flinch. With each stroke I was imagining that hockey match. A great pass I made, a well-timed defensive tackle, shooting the winning goal, the roar of victory.

Triumphantly I rose when permitted, re-arranged my clothing and faced the Headmaster for his final few words, feeling every bit the victorious Hockey Captain.

And then he crushed me. Told me he was proud of me for winning the match, was always proud of my achievements on the field. But he was ashamed that I had let the school and myself down so badly, failed in setting a good example to the younger girls. As his lecture continued I fell apart, crying from the shame of having failed in my position, feeling every bit the humbled Hockey Captain.