You know the gen. Dashwood are the clever ones, who break all the school rules, run the booze racket and get away with it, or to take the unkind Byron view on it, the mad eccentrics and the school pauper. Byron has all the hotties, or to take the unkind Dashwood view on it, the school sluts.

This rivalry had boiled over into a fight and when Jessica was hauled up in front of Mr Edmunds and accused of being the instigator she felt that there was more than a little inter-house revenge going on….

So she wasn’t sorry.

Mr Edmunds asked her if she was sorry. Jessica said not and quoted Disraeli at him – “The essence of humility is the acknowledgement of wrongdoing.”

Mr Edmunds said that Jessica was a smart-arse who was shortly going to be very sorry.

Jessica thought not.

Mr Edmunds thought that was a challenge. He had a certain glint in his eye. A tiny bit of Jessica was quite scared. But she wasn’t going to show it. Wasn’t the honour of Dashwood at stake?

So the stand-off began. And Jessica, who is not a stupid person, should have known perfectly well that when there’s a man with a stick and a girl with a bare bottom, there is only going to be one winner and it wasn’t going to be her.

The cane – the senior cane – which followed on quite swiftly after the hard and painful hand spanking and a very thorough paddling – hurt. In fact it really hurt. There were only six strokes, but each one whistled through the air and bit into Jessica’s bottom with all the venom of a cobra striking.

Jessica gritted her teeth, but her eyes were wet. It really hurt. She could feel the welts rising on her skin and the burning pain in her bottom. One stroke landed quite deliberately squarely across the top of her thighs, which nearly made her levitate. She managed not to sob, but couldn’t help a few pained noises from emerging. It seemed to be enough for Mr Edmunds and he let her go with a grim little smile his face. It ached to lie on her back that night.

Next morning, Jessica inspected the damage. Six strokes. All still visible and three had already bruised into perfect cane stripe bruises.

Ouch.

Girl Guide Jessica came to the fore when at 7.30am, with the first girls arriving at 8.30am, discovered that the kitchen sink was blocked and last night’s washing up still to be done! The pipe has frozen in the sub-zero temperatures of the night before. Much swearing and handywoman-esque behaviour then took place with boiling water, plunger etc, in-between washing up in a small bowl of hot water, then disposing of the water in the garden. This, reflected Jessica grimly, given that at Lowewood today they were all going ‘Back to Basics’ and acting as Victorian schoolgirls, was very appropriate.  Luckily, the sink cleared just in time for other staff and pupils to arrive.

At assembly, the staff looked a little depleted with Reverend Jenkins snowbound and Mr Edmunds on compassionate leave. Remedial girl Abigail was made Head Girl, as Mr Shaftebotham was keen to encourage the differently-abled to assume positions of responsibility. Old girl Pippa Beaumont was back from her approved school to everyone’s delight and everyone joined in the school hymn with gusto! Then came uniform inspection, when the girls were required to kneel on the floor whilst Miss Cavendish checked that their skirts were an appropriate and decorous length – a skirt was deemed to be decorous if the hem touched the ground. Jessica, Abigail and Pippa squeaked through this test, with Rebecca and Felicity being penalised for inappropriate attire. But it was Beth Somerton who took the honours in her ankle length black skirt and long knee length white bloomers. Naughty Beth, who had been expecting to get house points knocked off for taking the piss, was surprised to gain points for the best example!

First lesson was Drama with Mr Brown, where the girls studied the morality of Romeo & Juliet. Jessica was disconcerted to lose five house points almost straight away for saying ‘Romeo & Juliet weren’t shagging until they were married’, but pleased to later get fifteen points in total for good contribution. This made up for the next lessons, Logic – where Mr Shaftebotham, convinced that the girls were upset to be missing Reverend Jenkins’s logic lesson could do some logic problems with him instead. Cue a big fat nought for Jessica and a tawsing across the spanking bench for insubordination. It hurt a lot, especially as Jessica was made to straddle the horse, forcing her up thrust bottom into a vulnerable position for the kiss of the tawse.

Then came Drill with Miss Cavendish in the assembly hall, before the girls were allowed to escape to play in the snow, happily building a snowman, making snow angels, throwing snowballs and causing tree avalanches. It was either Jessica or Rebecca that masterminded the snowballing outrage – Mr Shaftebotham and Mr Brown were enticed out to look at the snow artwork, only to find themselves coming under attack from a volley of well-aimed snowballs, forcing Mr S to use Pippa as a human shield! Snowballing thus finished badly, with Jessica, Bex, Beth, Fliss and Abigail in detention at the end of the day. Only Pippa, who had a cold, escaped…

A hearty lunch of soup and sandwiches followed, with the girls allowed the privilege of drinking a glass of white wine – but Jessica and Beth, at the far end of the table were able to appropriate a bottle and top themselves up at will. This led to an unfortunate outbreak of sleepiness, especially at the prospect of Physics with Mr Brown. The first move he made was to write a giant equation on the board, to general groans. But then, the practical part of the experiment into Terminal Velocity took place and the Lowewood girls realised they were going to drop books onto each other’s bottoms from a great height. Much hilarity ensued. Mr Brown, young and handsome, is every girl’s favourite teacher!

The hilarity was all the more unfortunate as it was Mr S, already apoplectic from the snow fight, then reappeared to teach a double lesson of History and Geography. Jessica soon perked up at History, her favourite subject, but when the marks for History were awarded found herself penalised unfairly – because Mr S had got the answer wrong! Not once but twice! Jessica, fuming, spoke up with the right answers, only to find herself being spanked on the bare for insolence and know-it-allness and failed to get house points as she expected. At break, she therefore stormed downstairs to assist Miss Cavendish with the preparation for Domestic Science and relived her feelings by banging baking trays around in the kitchens. It helped a bit…

The next lesson was English, also with Mr S. But at the beginning of this lessons, Jessica received a dreaded pink slip, ordering her to report to Mr Brown in the Father Smith wing – the punishment wing. Reluctantly, she reported as directed, to find herself confronted with her naughty behaviour at a recent party of Jemima’s, where fuelled by alcohol and encouraged by Caoifhionn, Jessica had stripped to her underwear and danced. Appalling behaviour, fumed Mr Brown. Disgusting. Letting Lowewood Academy down!

Jessica was told to bend over the spanking bench and Mr Brown began by giving her a brisk hand spanking, first over her knickers and then on the bare. She blushed a little when he pulled down her regulation knickers. It wasn’t usual at Lowewood to be spanked by one of the more handsome teachers. He lectured her on the importance of chaste behaviour and self-discipline, before swapping on to a leather strap, which zinged whippily across her bottom, making Jessica wriggle and forcing Mr Brown to put a restraining hand on Jessica’s back. He then informed her that he felt six of the best with the cane was appropriate, given the circumstances. Jessica, feeling embarrassed and ashamed at being lectured on behaving like such a slut, sniffed dolefully, but managed to take the six sharp strokes without undue fuss. It didn’t stop her, on being dismissed, to ruefully rub her sore bottom as she returned to the English class.

English passed of peacefully, as did the final lesson of the day, Domestic Science with the fragrant Miss Cavendish as the class found themselves preparing cheese and fruit scones. As these were cooling, Beth asked Miss Cavendish if she could serve Mr S and Mr Brown some home-made popcorn. What Miss Cavendish didn’t realise was that the ‘popcorn’ was packaging, shaped like popcorn! It didn’t stop Mr S and Mr Brown eating several pieces as Jessica poured them both a glass of sherry! But even teachers eventually switch on their brains and Beth soon found herself called into the staff common room whilst an irate Mr Brown and Mr S took it in turns to tawse her bottom. Poor Beth….

The last item of the school day before dinner was detention – and Jessica’s heart sank when she found herself assigned with Beth to see Mr S, who was still spitting out bits of rubber popcorn and raging about the taste of soap in his mouth! He wasted no time in pleasantries, but placed them side-by-side over two desks and started with a hard hand-spanking that had the pair of them wriggling and gasping in no time. Then out came his thickest tawse. When both bottoms were glowing scarlet, Mr S took down the Senior cane.

“This is what happens to young ladies who throw snowballs at their headmaster!” he declared ominously. They each received six hard strokes and Jessica felt the stick burn across her bottom, raising red and sore welts.

A final assembly then, at which a rueful Jessica, aware of her burning bottom, applauded as Pippa Beaumont was awarded the Father Smith Cup for ‘Decorous, Diligent and Deferential behaviour’. At least she had fish and chips for supper to look forward to! Taking a quick shower before a jolly dinner, she was aware of the hot water running over her sore bottom. Perhaps she should try not to hurl snowballs or dance in her underwear again!

My friend Beth Somerton and I were plotting via text the other day, as both of us had been given interesting new toys from our other back-row friend Bex and had each had a few other things with which to cause mischief.

Beth was musing on the generally stupidity of Mr Shaftebotham in organising a day so soon after Christmas, when it was likely that quite a few girls had got naughty things in their stockings.*

I gently pointed out that was probably why he did it as it gave them an excuse to deal with us!

Anyway, this term, Lowewood is going ‘Back to Basics’ and we are having a Victorian Day. We aren’t wearing Victorian garb, but the staff have been told that they must teach proper subjects, not namby-pamby modern rubbish such as media studies. This has led to a profusion of Mental Arithmetic, Logic and Physics being on the timetable, much to my horror.

When it comes to anything involving mathematics, codes or logic, I am invariably at sea. It’s strange, because I’m reasonably clever, but for some reason, I cannot add two and two. It sometimes leads to difficulties in play, because the dom normally assumes that I am playing up on purpose and punishes me, whilst really, my eyes are pricking with tears because I feel like a complete remedial idiot** and to add insult to injury, I’m then being whacked for being a thicko.

Given that I have a sense of justice when playing and don’t like to be whacked just for the hell of it in a school scene – I like to have been caught out – this can lead to me sulking. Luckily, Beth is always on hand to jolly me out of it. But it doesn’t stop me dreading the maths-based lessons. Perhaps if I just sit quietly at the back, the teacher won’t notice me?

*********************************************
*Things to be naughty with in class that is, not naughty rude things, even though I got quite a few of those as well!
**Even more remedial than Abigail!

I had a slightly strange day. First of all the good bits. What did I like? I liked being with the group of girls and being…well…girly. I liked the jokes and the craic and the camaraderie. I enjoyed most of the lessons, even, for a wonder, physics! Delicious food and lots of chocolate – yum! Most of all, I liked laughing. You known when you laugh so hard you feel like you might actually wet yourself and the laughter endorphins make you all happy and smiley for hours afterwards!

Other parts of the day didn’t quite work for me. One thing I have learnt about Jessica as a schoolgirl character is that I quite like getting away with it – and even though the day is a spanking event, if I get through the whole day without being whacked, I feel really pleased with myself. Strange this one – most of the girls who go to Lowewood would be disappointed if they didn’t get any spanking at all! But at Lowewood – uniquely for me in play scenes – the CP is not the essential part for me. So when I got pink-slipped by Mr Shaftebotham, and punished for flashing in public (you can read about it here) – I felt really aggrieved, because I hadn’t flashed on purpose, in fact quite the opposite. Jessica did feel like spitting. Luckily, I only got spanked, because as Mr S raised the tawse behind me, the fire alarm went off, so I got to run out of the room. Well done that fire alarm!

The other strange thing was that for the first time at a Lowewood, I was very aware that I was not the object of attention for any of the teachers there – I’ve discussed earlier this week about being ‘shiny and new’ and I was very aware that unless I seriously played up and stuck a neon sign on my head saying ‘SPANK ME!’, none of them were going to go out of their way to do it, as the staff do tend to do with girls they really have the hots for and it was an unfortunate fact that none of the staff last week have the hots for me. So it wasn’t a question of being ignored exactly – but by not playing up, I didn’t really get noticed. Which felt odd. At one point (the teacher shall remain nameless), I was sending a text to a friend in class, quite openly at my desk and the teacher didn’t notice, and I realised it was because he was engrossed in teaching and in watching a couple of the other girls for misbehaviour. It made me feel bold – but at the same time, somewhat bereft….

The thing that really made my day was retaining my position as etiquette queen and coming top. There are a couple of other people snapping at my heels now and I have to work hard to keep my position. Luckily, Miss Cavendish rewarded me with points for coming top and I felt absurdly pleased when she smiled at me.  It’s funny how something so small, such a tiny piece of praise, can make you feel a million dollars!

We are planning cocktails and drinks in London – followed by a BDSM club, where we intend to wear our Lowewood uniforms with pride!

Luckily, the real life Lowewood Academy will be continuing to run – otherwise we’d all have to die in decline!

Sadly, we will miss Rebecca (who is on foreign shores) and Richard and Faye, who have unbreakable commitments. We will especially miss Richard, who along with me, was the founder of the blog. But I’m sure the rest of us – Beth, Sylvie, Pippa, Mr Shaftebotham, Reverend Jenkins, Jason Oak and Dr Higgins will have an amazing time and we will raise a glass to absent friends!

Can I just take the opportunity to thank every old reader of Lowewood who donated money to buy us a drink – we are going to enjoy it!

And if there’s any gossip, I’ll fill you all in next week!

The ending feels very strange. We did it for all the right reasons – the workload was becoming unsustainable and it felt a little like we were running out of things to say. We wanted to go out while it was on a high, and not have it trickle away into nothing. But I cherished Lowewood and right now I feel….I don’t know, just empty, like I’ve lost something very special. It was my first foray into the blogsphere and I never thought it would last longer than six months at the most.

Although Lowewood was written by a group of friends, it hasn’t always been easy and there have been plenty of rows about direction, work, storylines etc. Sometimes I really resented having to impose the editorial guidelines on my very creative friends, nag about posts not appearing and sit up late into the night to post a late post for the following day – because it’s not something I could do at work.

I am aware through meeting people on the scene that they like and admire what we achieved with Lowewood. I have met people who really care about the characters and what happens to them. But I can’t help having a sneaking feeling that it wasn’t really worth it. Because what exactly did we do? Apart from post our own little pieces of vanity seven days a week?

They say that all good things come to an end and this thing has. We may, or may not do a book at some point in the future. I at least have the consolation of knowing that real-life Lowewood Academy, the play version, will continue as normal. But I’ll miss the stories. I wonder if anyone else will?

I had the dubious pleasure of being Head Girl, so kind of had to behave myself. At Lowewood, Head Girls, by tradition, get double punishment for every offence (which is why it’s a dubious pleasure). As I’m not getting any CP on my bottom during the month of June (long story, I’ll talk about that in another post!), it meant that if I earned any punishment, it would be on my hands or thighs, both of which I loathe, so good behaviour (or at least not getting caught!) was the order of the day. Dull….oh well, at least I could amass some house points. There’s something very satisfying about a positive total of points. At least that was the idea…

I wasn’t helped by being incredibly dense at every subject the new teacher taught (English grammar and Human Biology). Struggling with the biology test – on which I received a magnificent zero and am now officially the class thicko (Abigail, our remedial girl was on a residential weekend) – I tried to shrink into my seat (thankfully at the back) so he couldn’t see. Unfortunately, Natalie Taylor-Meade (one of the Transatlantics) who’d been sitting in front of me, managed to get pink-slipped in that lesson, so I could feel his eyes boring into my bent head. Arghghg. My best friend, the lovely Beth Somerton, tried to let me copy, but he noticed. Double Arghgh. To then get -20 house points for being the stupidest was particularly galling! It’s so unfair when you get penalised for being an idiot…

None of the other lessons were any better – only one, history was a breeze but despite coming top, my expected house-points didn’t materialise***.  In PSE (in which I’m admittedly ahead of the others, having been at Lowewood now for a few years), I wasn’t actually allowed to answer any questions, because I already knew the answers, so was told to give the others a chance. Fine, except house-points then started being awarded for correct answers, whilst I was handicapped. Life isn’t fair Jessica I grimly reminded myself, trying to smile, whilst whispering the answers to new-girl Natalie and watching her points total soar into the stratosphere. Let’s not even talk about Art. Suffice to say; even a stick-man is too difficult for me. Kind Mr Basford, who knows that Art and Jessica don’t mix and unlike some Lowewood teachers doesn’t penalise you for being a moron let me sit quietly and cut out paper shapes for the arty girls. Head Girls help their fellow pupils I reminded myself.

Oh well, there was always netball in which to redeem myself after an appalling performance in the classroom. I like games and it was a lovely sunny day. Netball at Lowewood tends to be rough (whoever said that netball was a non-contact sport had to have been looking the other way!) and I shove with the best of them. The first half was a bit of a rout (14-1 to my side at half-time), so Mr Basford changed the teams around and the second half was much closer.  As the two teams were more evenly matched, it did get more violent and I was playing pretty cleanly until I got shoved forwards on purpose which our referee missed, allowing the other team to score.  Don’t get mad – get even I reminded myself.  I duly returned the favour to the suspect with interest, grabbed the ball and scored. The referee didn’t notice. But Mr Shaftebotham (watching with Mr Edmonds) did and promptly dobbed me in. Referee duly deducted goal, thus putting us behind. Something akin to spontaneous combustion happened in my brain at the sheer unfairness of life and (shamefully, I’ll admit now) I swore with rage and stalked of court, cursing teachers, unfairness and life. Possible House points for playing well went out of the window. Luckily Mr S didn’t call me back, probably because even Headmasters have a self-preservation instinct and I might have head-butted him at that point!  At least I got a warm shower (losing team at Lowewood get cold showers), from my storming-off. You still feel hot bile from being a bad sportswoman though, and embarrassment and chagrin were felt in equal measure.

Naturally, I ended up in detention, Jemima, Natalie and I to be dealt with individually by Mr Edmonds. Arghgh. I really didn’t want to get double punishment. Especially not on hands and thighs. There’s something about being tawsed on your hands that makes me want to throw up and I hate the fact that whoever is doing it can see your face, something they can’t do when you’re bent over.

 Jemima and I whispered outside whilst the crack sounds of Mr Edmonds dealing with Natalie filtered through the door. “Why don’t you come on to him? See if he’ll let you off if you do something nice for him. Bet you a fiver he won’t” she suggested. Why the hell not I thought recklessly. So duly, (in a somewhat embarrassed way, I’m terrible at flirting) I suggested that he might like ‘something nice that would involve me kneeling down’. He proved to be utterly incorruptible and turned me down flat. Oh the humiliation. I’m not sure what scalded more, the mortifying humiliation of the put-down or the six harsh stokes of the strap on each hand. I managed not to cry. Just.

Paid Jemima her fiver. At least she was nice about it.

Later that night, in bed, it occurred to me that I’m already on final warning with both sets of Uncles about bad results at school. Argh. I think I might have to lose my house-points book or I’m dead….

*Update*
Crap, just got text from Uncle Edmund. He wants to discuss my school report on Thursday. Please God, let me be hit by a falling piano by then!

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

*Formerly of HMP Holloway Education Department
**Very old in the case of Mr Shaftebotham!
***I demand a Stewards Enquiry!

It’s a bugger, isn’t it.

But, dear readers, you may be surprised to know that if you want to arrange a kinky play day – in this case a Lowewood Academy school day* – consisting of girly giggling, gratuitous and welcome beatings, lessons, games, lusting after the teacher** – then there will be paperwork. Lots of it. Sometimes, I think entire republics have been formed with less faffing about.

In theory, this week’s extravaganza is a ‘Mini-Lowewood’. This, in theory means a small group and girls and staff for an afternoon, rather than a whole day event with more girls and more staff. Yes. Whoops. As usual, Jessica organised the day, whilst He Who Must Be Obeyed watched benevolently and sharpened his canes. Then we had the obligatory ‘tell me what’s happening’ meeting. The conversation went something like this:

He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed: “We have how many girls?”

Jessica (sheepishly): “Err….nine. Sorry.”

He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed: “It’s meant to be mini. Mini! That’s a small number! It was only meant to be five girls! Using every single one of our desks, every plate in the house and all the chairs is not mini. It’s gargantuan. You need to learn the difference. Fetch the strap.”

Jessica (mutinously): “It’s not my fault everyone wants to come to them.”

(Interlude for painful thrashing, set to Mozart’s Requiem)

Anyway, so it’s not that mini. And we have three new girls. So there are timetables and registers and lesson-plans and food preparation and emails and punishment books and uniform lists. Booze and fags to stash. Sweets to purchase. Tricks to plan.

All so we can indulge in a little light (or not so light sometimes) corporal punishment. I suppose at least I don’t have to fill in a form in triplicate if I get caned!

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

*Lowewood Academy is a school for young ladies, founded by the well-known philanthropist and possessor of a huge endowment, Lord Fawcett. I should point out at this moment, that all the *girls* that attend are in fact *adults*. It’s a roleplay. We are not members of the Girls School Association!

**or having him or her lust after you

Jessica has been around, in more way than one, more or less continuously over the last ten years. I’ve come a long way – from a scared teen novice to a slightly cynical observer of the lives, loves and gossip of the world of kink.

To say something serious, I suppose that I am defined by my desires. My desires are sometimes equally hard to define – but all I know is that I gain immense pleasure form indulging in behaviour that other, more narrow-minded people would condemn as deviant. Well all I’ll say to that* is that it’s my life and I’m living it the best way that I can. My worst fear is to get to a certain age and look back and say ‘God, I wish I’d done that’. Sure, there have been times in the past and there will be times in the future where I think ‘I really wish I hadn’t done that’. But most of the time I think – ‘I love this – give me more!’

To be able to indulge my imagination and my lust to such a degree is all part of what makes me the beautifully kinky (and sometimes just a little bit twisted) person that I am. I’ve never hidden how I feel – all those close to me, my husband, my playmates, my family, friends and lovers all know what I am and what drives me. I have no idea where my desires originated or why I am the way I am. But I’m damn comfortable in my skin. I think that’s the best place to be.

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

*at this moment in time