An Appointment with Matron

Although Philip was wearing his warmest winceyette pyjamas, it wasn’t the draught in the corridor that made him shiver, no. It was the stomach-churning anticipation of what was to come.
As a senior boy, he knew Matron would not be in a forgiving mood about their flagrant breach of the rules.

It had been humiliating to be made to change into pyjamas and slippers as if they were first-year squirts, everyone in the senior dorm had witnessed their embarrassment as Matron stood and watched them remove their uniforms and don their pyjamas.

How long was it since she had marched them both down to stand and wait outside her room, twenty, thirty minutes? He didn't know. It felt like a very long time until she had opened her door and beckoned Godfrey inside. 

From behind the door he could hear the rhythmic thwack of Mrs Knight’s cane. He counted to four when he first heard Godfrey react, “owww!”

The next strike of her cane brought forth more of a canine yelp. The sixth stroke was when Godfrey finally gave up the pretence of being brave and emitted a full blown sob.

Matron's door opened. Unable to look directly at his friend, Godfrey slithered quickly out, but not so quick that Philip failed to notice his friend's tear-stained face. 

Philip just had time to witness the pyjama clad figure scurry down the corridor clutching frantically at his chastised bottom before Mrs Knight appeared.

“Come in please Master Philip.” It always meant unpleasantness when Matron used that particular prefix, emphasising a junior status.

“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that you, a senior boy and a prefect to boot, should have behaved in such a manner. Luckily PJ had the good sense to come and tell me what you two were up to.” 

Suddenly it was all clear. Tradman! The swine, he thought, just you wait. 

Matron continued her lecture. “I hold you entirely responsible for this escapade Philip, there is no way Godfrey would have behaved in this fashion without your influence. Therefore your punishment must be harsher.”

She was aware of his nervousness and paused for a moment to study his reaction to her admonishment before sitting herself down on her chair. She patted her lap, “over you go please Philip.”

At first, he didn’t comprehend her meaning until she spoke again, this time more sharply.
“Philip! Over my lap, now boy.” Nervously, he took two steps forward and found himself lying across her lap.

“I thought you were a sensible mature boy Philip, someone who could be trusted and yet I discover you were involved in a most immature escapade. Therefore I have decided to punish you as I would a first-year, with an over the knee slipper spanking, a case of the punishment fitting the crime as it were.”

“Nnnn..no… matron please..” he stuttered as he lay helpless across her ample lap. 
Mrs Knight picked up her fur-trimmed spanking slipper, circling his pyjamaed bottom with her palm searching for the optimum position to begin his spanking. Philip tensed his buttocks, wishing fervently that he was being caned instead of this demeaning spanking.

Her slipper made contact with his bottom only four times before he began flailing his legs in reaction to the hurt. However, years of slipper spanking experience gave Mrs Knight the advantage and she altered the position of her left arm to maintain her firm grip before repeating the dose. By now, he was yelling, weeping and promising to be a good boy in future. She stopped. Philip felt a sense of relief even though he was breathing heavily, his heart racing as he lay draped forlornly across her lap. 

Then, much to his horror, he felt matron pulling at the cord of his pyjamas then tugging them down to reveal his bare bottom.

“Not very red at all Philip." I must be losing my touch. Let’s see if I can make your bottom blush as much as your face shall I?”

For the next five minutes, Mrs Knight spanked, paused to lecture, spanked and paused again. His slippers flew off and the legs of his pyjama bottoms flapped wildly as his pleas for her to stop reached full volume. Her hand gently circled his very red, very sore bare bottom. “There, that’s much better isn’t it?” she asked without expecting a reply.

“Right, up you get Philip.” As he rolled off her lap and stood, his pyjama bottoms puddled at his feet. Quickly, he raised them to his waist, his fingers fumbled with the tie-cord. 

“Allow me.” Matron maintained eye contact with him as she grasped the pyjama cord. Her arms encircled his body and as she drew them back together, she made sure to enclose the hem of his pyjama jacket inside the pyjama bottoms before she fastened the cord into a double bow.

“Much more little boy like,” she commented before reminding him to repossess his slippers.

Unlike Godfrey, who had been allowed to scamper tearfully away on his own, matron escorted Philip all the way back to his dormitory. Godfrey had already washed his tear-stained face and dressed, ready for the refectory and only his somewhat awkward gait gave a hint of what had befallen him. 

PJ Tradman was loitering there too, although Philip was trying to conceal his tear-streaked face he could have sworn he saw him smirk as he passed. Philip picked up his towel and made to head for the cloakroom and the sanctuary of the showers.

Mrs Knight halted him by grabbing at the collar of his pyjama jacket. “No you don’t Philip, you will attend the refectory dressed in your pyjamas and slippers just as first-year pupils do who have been slipper-spanked, furthermore you will continue to do so for the next two days.” 

He could hardly comprehend her words, the shame of appearing in the refectory in his pyjamas and slippers like a naughty first year was going to be disastrous for his image with the sixth form girls.

Matron continued, “since you have behaved like a little boy I have no option other than to treat you like one. Therefore your official bedtime for the next three days will also mimic that of the first years.”

Philip couldn’t believe it, an eight o’clock bedtime for three nights, oh the shame!