Online Conduct

REAL Spanking Short Stories from The Life and Times of...

This year it was decided by my Head of House (HoH) that it was high time I learned to speak proper French. Jeremy and I have had a place out in rural South West France for years and we are both still hopeless at the language. We are English idiots who speak a kind of hybrid known colloquially as ‘Frenglish’. Which means we can do the essentials, badly, and pretty much all other topics of conversation are off-limits as we simply do not have the vocabulary or structure to keep up. Indeed, the region is referred to ironically, as ‘Dordogneshire’ by the locals. It’s a pretty accurate description in fairness; it is not unlike Cheshire but with much more sunshine, finer, less expensive wine and without the garish WAGS of rich footballers. Apart from the impossible language, it’s bliss.
        Anyway, it was decided that I would be going ‘back to school’ with a twist. We’d both previously tried and failed to learn French in classes, via use of audio CDs, smartphone apps and from textbooks. So, it was agreed that more drastic measures would have to be taken, otherwise the goal of speaking fluent French was never going to be achieved. Jeremy and I agreed that it would require a teacher with a more traditional approach to schooling and hence the search began for a French tutor who would have no qualms about reaching for le martinet should effort, application or commitment be found wanting.
        A professional online linguist with a healthy appetite for corporal punishment was quickly found, and voilà! Jacqui would be going back - in fact a very long way back - to a 1950’s-style British private school, complete with uniform, rules, lines, detentions, and good old-fashioned discipline. ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child’ and all that.
        The first few lessons flew by and I was reassured that so long as homework was completed on time, up to standard and I was punctual and attentive, then there would be no need for any disciplinary measures to be taken. I can even report that despite loathing French at school, I was actually beginning to rather enjoy myself. For, although wearing school uniform in your 30’s is frankly a bit weird, and a touch more uncomfortable than I had thought, the tutelage was of some serious quality and very real progress was quickly being made. Of course, the ever-present spectre of corporal punishment was a strong motivating factor, and monsieur le professeur’s confidence and attention to detail convinced me that he wouldn’t be backwards in coming forwards, should he deem discipline necessary. He didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity to fully assert his authority.
        Late one Friday evening, another student of his was publicly sucking up on a famous social media platform - and I do mean full-on, sycophantic brown-nosing. It was gross. From nowhere, my inner 16-year-old surfaced and was about to post a ‘vomit’ emoji. Thankfully, my adult grabbed a hold of her and reminded her that she had already been warned about inappropriate use of certain emojis on her teacher’s social media posts. The words, “This is your warning, it will be your one and only warning. If it continues, you will be disciplined,” suddenly came back to her and she regained her senses. But... but I really do despise goodie-goodies. You know the ones. The over-the-top Miss Goodie Two Shoes types who are always so desperate for the full attentions of a teacher who has many, many students in his or her care. So, I decided to play it smart. Instead of posting the ‘vomit’ emoji in response to the faux-gushing, goodie-goodie, I instead posted:

[puke face emoji]

I’m not going to lie: it gave me a hot flash of satisfaction that I had so cunningly circumnavigated monsieur le professeur’s emoji restrictions, and been able to definitively express my displeasure at such sycophantic behaviour. That satisfaction lasted all of the twelve seconds it took for a response from sir to land:

You were saying, Jacqui?

My first instinct was that I was in trouble, not from what he had posted but from the speed with which he had written it. I quickly thrashed out a neutral response, hoping that this would be the end of the matter:

Nothing, sir. I have absolutely nothing to say, about anything in fact!

I even threw in a zipped-lipped emoji for good measure. It didn’t spare me from an immediate direct message though:

[puke face emoji]?

Do you have anything to say for yourself?
I shall want to see you for a talk when possible.

Shit. That’s what I honestly thought. Shit, I’m in trouble. However, I was buoyed a touch by the not inconsiderable number of messages that I subsequently received from Tops and Bottoms alike, complimenting me on my mischievous quick-wit and clever use of language. On balance, it seemed like I was in the clear. I had received plenty of positive messages and only one negative one - from my French teacher.
        However, I thought I’d better not put off presenting an explanation to ‘the disgruntled one’, and penned this in his messages:

Yes, sir

I apologise unreservedly for my [puke face emoji].
It was intended as a touch of light comedy, sir.
That’s the thing about jokes, you can’t please them all, all of the time.

Good comediennes think of something funny to say and they say it, sir.

Win. Lose. Or draw.

If you constantly filter, you’ll rarely be funny as the timing will be off. The moment will have passed.

If you’re not offending around 25 percent of your audience then you’re not doing your job in comedy properly, sir.

I’m sorry to have caused offense and I’ll of course listen to what you have to say on the matter.

Sincerest apologies
Jacqui x

I was rather pleased with my semi-apology and meant every word in both directions. Then, when a thumbs-up appeared in response, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and poured myself a healthy glass of dry white to expedite my come-down from the melodrama. I’d not taken so much as a sip, however, when I got a notification via direct message from monsieur le professeur:

I appreciate those words; Jacqui and I accept the apology. I still would like the talk face to face as I prefer that to text only. I have sent you an email in that regard, and I expect your answer as soon as possible.

Sincerely
Sir

The word ‘expect’ stood out as a little strong, however he did say that he had accepted my apology, so that meant that I’d be getting a bit of a telling off and that would be the end of the matter, right?
        I must have doubted this, as for some reason I checked my email late on a Friday night and I never normally do this. Something was up all right:

Subject: Disciplinary Note

Dear Jacqui

I will want to see you for a talk about your attitude and conduct as soon as possible. Please let me know when you will be available during the next days.

Sincerely
Sir

I was had at ‘Disciplinary Note’ - I don’t care about context, that phrase is never good. Everything south of my waist tensed and still I was trying to convince myself to stay calm, after all it says, ‘see you for a talk’, it’s probably just that. A talk. Right? I fired off a reply and received a near instantaneous response:

Then I wish to see you tomorrow at nine.
Best get it over with.

Sir

GULP! ‘Get it over with,’ is it just me, or does that sound like it’s going to be more than just a talking to? All of a sudden, the half dozen private messages saying how clever, mischievous and witty I had been didn’t seem like such a solid foundation or accurate barometer… I had some thinking to do.
        First, I tried to rationalise it. Well, hopefully I’ll get done on the lesser charge of being impolite. The school rules say that ‘Any disobedience will be severely punished,’ and that ‘All disrespect and impolite behaviour will be punished.’ Severely punished sounds like a caning to me, but punished could just be a rollocking and lines, couldn’t it? Perhaps a few with the slipper? But surely not a cold caning? Yes, it was cheeky, risk-taking behaviour but it wasn’t disobedience… or was it?
        I had been previously warned about the use of certain emojis and the importance of polite and respectful behaviour. I’d also had to be reminded about using the correct term of address once or twice - my ‘sirring’ isn’t always up to standard.
        Would it have helped if I’d apologised immediately? A bit like a lawyer. They say something naughty, that they know they’ll be reprimanded by the judge for, but at least that way the jury get to hear it. So, I say my piece, get rebuked, then apologise, thus getting to make my point without further consequences? It does say something about apologising in the rules, ‘Students will always politely apologise if they are found in violation of any rule, regulation or instruction.’ Yeah, I should have apologised right away. Oh well, too late now.
        So, my disciplinary is at 9 am, let’s make a plan. First of all, don’t be late, set your alarm a little early and make sure you have plenty of time to get ready. Ugh. School uniform on a Saturday, that sucks! Be sure to keep calm, be respectful, listen and give him plenty of sincere eye contact, but not so much that it could be misconstrued as cockiness. Only speak when spoken to - that’s going to be tricky - how about, only speak when answering a direct question? Probably a better goal. Remember you are there to be disciplined, it is not a debate. Besides, you’ve already given your account. OMG! I’ve just thought of the most ingenious solution to the problem. I could have written:

[    ] - insert appropriate emoji here! ;)

Bahahahahah! I wonder if I’ll have the balls to write that one? :)
        I can’t believe that whilst trying to write myself some good, decent, honest instructions that just pops into my head. Unbelievable. Isn’t the human spirit marvellous?
        Anyway, what advice was I giving myself? Oh yes, I’ll need to behave tomorrow like a rating in the Navy. Steady gaze, keep still, don’t talk. Don’t react. Think Daniel Craig’s 007 - he hates Mallory, but silently tolerates him in public. British stiff upper lip and all that. Be a (wo)man, take it on the chin (ass), be a thoroughly decent chap(ess), do not make excuses and that way we may earn back a modicum of respect. I’m not going to manage this, am I?

****

Saturday morning arrived early for me and after re-reading my notes-to-self, ensuring that my school uniform was immaculate, and that my ego was properly in check, I waited patiently for 9 am to arrive. It also arrived early. Sir’s first Skype message landed at 08:58 it read,

Are you ready, Jacqui?

Sir, yes, sir.

He didn’t wait for 9 am, he made the call at 08:59, and it was in this moment that I quit trying to convince myself that this would just be a telling off…
        “Good morning, Jacqui.”
        “Morning, sir.”
        “Here we are again discussing online conduct and attitude. I am extremely disappointed that you didn’t heed my warning, and as you know I only give one         warning. There can only ever be one warning. Now, there are two things I must take into consideration when making a judgement. Number one is intention; what was your motivation? Number two is outcome; what were the consequences of the action or actions taken? Outcome is worth double intent. So, if the outcome is bad, then the thrashing will be severe even if the intentions were good. If both the intention and outcome are bad, then we would be talking about some very serious discipline. In this case, I know that your intention wasn’t bad, and that the outcome wasn’t terrible either. The other student whom you might have offended, wasn’t at all perturbed by your quip. I know because I discreetly checked in with her and she was okay with it. However, it doesn’t absolve you of your error of judgement. You could have caused bad feeling and for this you will be punished. Do you understand?”
        “Yes, sir.”
        “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
        “No, sir.”
        “Very well, I’ve read your defence and I’ve taken some of it into account. However, in response, we were not in a comedy club and you were not onstage. So, losing 25 percent of your audience is not the issue here. It is my school, and it’s worse because you were behaving that way in front of me. If it were on someone else’s timeline, then okay, I might have messaged you to say, ‘I don’t like what you are doing,’ but it is not so bad as being rude in front of me. We’ve talked before about the need for you to hold back some. Haven’t we?”
        “Yes, sir.”
        “So, as you’re not a fan of metric; as you’re NOT a fan of metric, I’m going to give you twelve with the strap. And, if you do it again, it will be worse for you.” He continued, “I will send you a punishment reflection form to fill in afterwards, and I will want two-hundred words on the importance of politeness and manners. I’m trusting you to ask for the twelve to be firmly applied…”
        “My HoH will do it right now for you, sir. If you wish?” I blurted out. It appeared to take him aback somewhat.
        “Well, yes. Then let’s do that.”
        “Yes, sir.”
        I left the office and went to fetch Jeremy from the sitting room. He looked less than impressed to see me. I briefly explained what I’d done wrong and what the punishment was to be. He got up from his armchair, folded his newspaper in a fussy manner, and headed for the office door without so much as a word. I followed on behind feeling a good foot shorter.
        “Wait outside.” He barked, closing the office door in my face. I bit my tongue, lent on the now closed door, and listened in.
        “Good morning, sir. My name’s Jeremy, Jem James. How may I help you?”
        “Good morning. Jacqui is the sort of character that pushes the boundaries-”
        “You can say that again, sir. I’ve been her disciplinarian for over ten years now.”
        “Right? So, you will know precisely what I am talking about. Jacqui’s been playing up online, nothing too serious, but certainly something that I want to put a stop to early. I have a reputation and the reputation of my school to protect and so I have decided, in this instance, that she needs twelve with the strap.”
        “Certainly, sir. I shall fetch her in.”
        I spun around to make it look as though I hadn’t been listening at the door just as my HoH opened it.
        “In!”
        “Yes, sir.”