BEXHILL SCHOOL

Mr Humphreys, the History teacher, was a mild man, but there was just so much teasing he could take. Josephine was the class 'smart alec', always playing to her audience, and partly because she had a secret crush on Mr Humphreys, he was often the butt of her quips and provocative pronouncements. It was Friday, it had been a long week, Half Term still seemed far off, and Mr Humphreys had had enough, so when Josephine tried to side-track his explanation of early 20th history by 'innocently' asking why 'she' found life dull, Mr Humphreys smelled a rat. 

"What do you mean, Josephine?" he asked.

"Well, sir, you just referred to 'the Bored Whore'." There was a titter from the class.

"I said the Boer War."

"That's what I said: Bored Whore. Why was she bored? I bet whores are not usually bored!" There was open laughter from the girls now. Things were threatening to get out of control.

Mr Humphreys turned and wrote BOER WAR in chalk on the blackboard.

"Oh, I see," said Josephine, but unwisely didn't leave it at that. "Anyway, sir, have you ever met a whore?" Giggles from all sides.

Mr Humphreys snapped.

"Josephine, go outside and stand in the corridor. I'll deal with you at break time."

Josephine realised she'd gone too far and blushed as she made her way to the door, followed by twenty pairs of eyes. Everyone knew what was in store for her.

As she stood nervously outside the classroom door, she tried to console herself. 'Maybe it won't be too bad,' she thought. 'He doesn't look as though as though he'd whack too hard. Actually, it might even be rather sexy being thrashed by Humph.'

In truth, she was whistling in the dark. The reality was that 'Humph' wielded a mean tawse, and five minutes after the class ended (and with her classmates all clustered outside the door and listening intently), Josephine was squealing her head off as the heavy leather strap lashed across her bare cheeks.