She didn't look up when he came in.  A fire was burning in the grate, and there was a good smell coming from the kitchen, but he knew that sometimes she felt her days off to have been unsatisfying and he immediately suspected this was one of those days.  She was curled up on the sofa by the hearth, a half glass of wine and the crossword, abortively attempted, on the floorboards beside her.

He put his bag down on the chaise and slipped his jacket off, kicking the tatty draught excluder back against the front door and drawing the curtain against the night.

'Hey trouble, what's up with you?'

She didn't answer.

'Hey, I said what's up. You had a bad day?'

She glanced up, meeting his eyes for the first time, and nodded, slowly.

'…I…I got caned today.'

She'd been at school. He bit back a relieved smile and tutted instead, shaking his head in admonishment.

'Well, girl, you and I need to have words then, don't we?'

She shrugged with one shoulder, dropping her eyes again.

'I'm going to get a drink, and then I want to know exactly what happened.'

He went through to the kitchen and fetched a glass of red, pausing to peer into the oven. The good smell was coming from a casserole; promising, but a long way from ready.

He came back into the room and sat down by her, loosening his tie.

'Now, young lady, what did you do to earn yourself a caning?'

She sniffed, balefully, 'Mr Lister said I talked back to him.'

Mr Lister, a greying, stolid man, was the deputy headmaster.

'And did you?'

She replied with a non-committal shrug.

'I'll take that as a yes. Then you deserved it, didn't you?'

She wrinkled her nose.

'So I know why he caned you, now I want to know how.'

She looked away, shyly. He reached out to her and took her chin gently in his hand, making her face him again.

'Tell me how he caned you.'

He spoke sternly, and watched the blush rise on her cheeks. She took a deep breath.

'I had to go to his office at one but he made me wait outside for ages so all the sixth-formers came past and saw me waiting…'

He made a face of mock consolation.

'…and then when he called me in he had the cane out on his desk and he picked it up flexed it the whole time he told me off …and then he made me bend over…'

'Did he pull your skirt up?'

'Yes…and…then he said he was going to teach me a lesson and…and…he took my knickers down.' She hung her head, picking at a loose thread on one of the embroidered cushions.

'…and then he came round behind me and he kept tapping my legs till they were straight enough and telling me to stick my bottom right out and then…he caned me.'

'How many?'

'Three.'

'Only three?'

'They hurt,' she said, petulantly.

'I should hope so, but you got off lightly. You'd get more than three for talking back to me, and you know it. Did you cry?'

'A bit…'

'And then what?'

'And then he told me to get out, but lunch was over so I didn't even get a sandwich and I was late for history and Mrs Purcell made me tell everyone why.'

He grinned at her.

'And then you had to sit on your poor caned bottom all afternoon.'

'Yes…'

'And worry about coming home and owning up that you'd been caned.'

'Uh-huh'

He reached across her and set his glass down on the mantelpiece.

'Well,' he said, stern again, 'I think I'd better take a look. Stand up.'

'No-oo…'

'Are you talking back to me now, too? You don't learn very fast. Stand up, and drop your jeans while you're at it. I won't tell you again.'

With feigned reluctance she stood and unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them to her knees and half-turning away. Without rising from the sofa he put two fingers into her knickers and pulled them down, revealing her round, unmarked bottom.

He ran a finger along the imaginary welts.

'Well, at least he's good, Mr Lister. That's a nice set of stripes. I like to see you with a caned bottom. It always restores my confidence in that school of yours.'

She sniffed.

'But there's something else I need to check, too.'

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide and a flush high on her cheeks.

'…Did you get excited when Mr Lister caned you?'

She shook her head, too fast.

'Because if you'd got excited I'd have to punish you again, wouldn't I…?'

She shook her head again, coyly. 'I didn't…'

He raised an eyebrow and took her wrist, gesturing to his lap. With an extravagant sigh she flounced over his lap and snuggled into position, burying her face in the cushions. She clamped her legs together. He patted her bottom, encouragingly.

'Be a good girl for me.'

He felt her relax against him, and lifted his right knee to tilt her bottom. Then he parted her legs.  She was wet and glistening in the firelight. He put an accusatory finger to her and she whimpered and tried to pull away.

'Shhh,' he chastened, smacking her, 'I told you to be good. Lie still.'

He trailed his fingers between her legs, feeling her tense and shiver.

'What's this?' He made his voice hard.

She didn't reply, other than to whimper again as he pressed his fingers to her.  He smacked her again, harder, and she yelped and wriggled.

'What happens to naughty little girls who get excited when they're caned at school…?'

He gave her another sharp smack.

'Ow. They…they get caned at home.'

'Mmm. They get caned hard at home. Up.'

He helped her back to her feet, gently steered her towards the corner, and went to fetch the cane.