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…oooOOOooo…

Buxiban part 2

Mum registered me at the Junior college mentioned by Emma’s parents.

The Registration lady inquired, “Madam how old is your daughter?”

I answered, “Eighteen, Ma’am!”

The lady frowned. “Our pupils talk when they are addressed. I was asking your mother.”

I felt like a silly reprimanded schoolgirl, and blushed.

Mum answered, “She is eighteen Madam.”

“According to our laws she is a minor.”

I thought better than sassing back that I am a major back home.

“Madam, please sign the corporal punishment clause after having written, “I hereby allow the corporal punishment of my daughter Amelia according to the rules of the college.”

I again blushed.

I was issued my uniform. When the burumas were added to the bag I asked, “May I please have knickers for wearing under them?”

The lady said, “Our pupils request permission to speak when not addressed. You were already warned. Turn around and raise your skirt.”

I froze on the spot. Mum said, “Do as you are told, dear.”

I very reluctantly turned around and raised my jeans miniskirt.

The registrar pulled a long and wide plastic ruler, from under the counter.

“Hands on your knees, your are to get two strokes. If you move you will lower your knickers, and the punishment will be repeated plus one stroke across your thighs.

WHACK!

“OUCH!”

I couldn’t help it, I danced with both hands rubbing my bum. I had never imagined such a sting! It sure wasn’t like Mum’s occasional hand spanking.

“Lower your knickers to your knees, and back in position.”

“What! Lowering my knickers right here with people around.”

“One more stroke! Lower your knickers now, or it will be two more.”

“Do as your are told dear.”

I reluctantly lowered my knickers as another girl and her mother entered the storeroom. I was mortified, my bare bottom got three fiery strokes, and my thighs got one. That one was the worse! I again danced while rubbing my throbbing bum and thighs. I had never been punished so severely! 

“You may pull up your knickers up, and adjust your skirt.”

I realized that she had whacked my thighs so that it would show under my mini. I was quite distressed.

I pleaded with Mum to drop me back home so that I could change into jeans. She ignored my plea. “You got a taste of what to expect if you don’t toe the line. We are now going to buy you a bike.”

We went to a shopping mall with an amazing indoor garden with full size palm trees. It was a busy place, and I pulled my miniskirt as far down as I could. It was no use everyone could see my reddened thighs.

I saw two girls my age wearing school uniforms with similarly decorated thighs, and they didn’t look too embarrassed. They were happily chatting with boys also wearing uniforms with shorts.

At the bike shop I asked for an electric one. Mum refused, she said that pedaling would give me lovely legs. I chose a super bike. It was red with zillions of speeds. The young sales clerk adjusted the handle bar and the saddle, and I had to try it. He had my red thighs just about in front of his nose, and he didn’t raise an eyebrow.

He told Mum that I need an helmet. “It is mandatory Ma’am. Minors not having one are to report to the local juvenile punishment center, and parents are fined S$200.” I choose a discreet burgundy one, almost matching my auburn-red hair.

Back at our condominium I changed into jeans, but Mum was a meany. “Change back into your miniskirt, so that it shows that you were a naughty girl and punished.” I wanted to try my new bike, I had to obey. Mum added. “And don’t forget your helmet, I don’t want to pay a 200$ fine!”

I tried my bike with my helmet on, and visited Emma. Her mother told me that I would find her in the garden. She must have seen my thighs as she added with a laugh, “I see that you have been registered at the Bukit Timah college.”

I blushed and found Emma…

… “I got my uniform, and I was whacked with a nasty plastic ruler by the mean registrar!”

“Oh! I am sorry. I was also whacked by her. I should have warned you!”

“I jumped after the first stroke, and I got three more, plus one across my thighs. Boy did they sting!” I again blushed as I showed her.

“One more thing! The sales clerk at the bike shop mentioned ‘juvenile punishment center.'”

“Yes, minors caught misbehaving by the police are issued punishment slips.”

“And?”

“And you report to the local juvenile punishment center, and you get whacked, and your parents get a fine.”

“Phew! I now understand why there’s no graffiti.”

Emma added, “And no underage drinking or smoking, and etc.”

Amelia and Emma

To be continued…

 ./.

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