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Monday, 20 February 2017

Hazel Lysle — Form 7B

A St Angela’s photo-story from Roué 12
‘You were wondering whose delicious bottom that was on the front cover? Hazel’s, of course. You don’t know Hazel? That girl in 7B? Hazel Lysle, that’s her name. Haven’t you read Roué before? Don’t you know about St Angela’s and Mr Payne and that nasty wicked stick he keeps in his cupboard? Well, well........’
It’s perfectly natural that the girl should be nervous. She’s going to have her bum smacked, after all — and a pretty little bum it’ll be too, one would think. She stares in embarrassment at the lump old Payne’s got in his trousers — you’d think she hadn’t seen anything like it before. He’s telling her off about untidiness or something — wish he’d get on with it. Ah, that’s more like it. He’s getting to the point at last.
The girl looks around.
‘But sir — in front of Mr Grimble sir?’
‘Grimsley — and why not pray? He is one of the school’s governor’s — surely you know that?’
‘Ooh — well, if you think it’s alright sir —.’
Poor thing. She’s nervous as a kitten. Can’t keep her eyes away from Mr Grimsley as she has to hoist the short skirt up and her navy knickers peep out from under the hem. Must be something to do with him, this shyness — she’s had to take her pants down for the Headmaster before, that’s for sure, pretty girl like her.
‘And now, let’s have you across here —.’
She looks utterly miserable as the Headmaster’s hand slides across the exposed seat of her school pants. She is coaxed into position, hands on the floor, knickers tight across her young bottom, and then as they are slipped down to the tops of her thighs she seems to slump resignedly across the Headmaster’s lap.
That was a nice one! She felt that alright!
The Headmaster gives her a crisp half-dozen, nice and solid on each cheek in turn. She bounces up and down as the spanks land, and her pretty face displays first a frown and then a definite look of petulance as her bottom starts to wriggle. Won’t be long before she’s crying, shouldn’t wonder.
‘That’s a good girl.’ coos Mr Grimsley patronisingly.
The girl gives him a look which says plainly that she wishes he’d shut up or go away or something. It’s bad enough getting your bum smacked, without some lecherous old sod making stupid comments.
She’s got a nice little bum, this one. Nice and springy. Like to see a cane across that. Have to see what can be done.
Yes, he’s got her going now. She’s frowning again — pity, that. Such a pretty face. Looking at Grimsley as though it’s all his fault. Which it is, as a matter of fact, though she couldn’t possibly know that he’d picked her out in the gym this morning as he’d passed along the corridor.
OOOOOOHH! Christ! Oooh, sir — please sir — !’
Down they come! He’ll give it to her good and hard now! That’s it! Here come the tears...
That’s nice! I like to see things done properly. Like to see a girl get a good sound spanking when she deserves it. Like to see ‘em caned too! Which reminds me...
Oh, he’s finished with her. Oh well — now then, about her getting a little touch of the stick —.
Doesn’t she look a picture up there. Very pretty. Nice little bum too! Have a quick word with him.
‘Er — Hazel, you’re to stay up there until after break. Then we’ll have you over the chair and see how you like a taste of the cane. And get your skirt up, girl!’
‘Cup of tea, Mr Grimsley?’
Don’t mind if I do.
‘Er — what did you say her name was? Hazel Lysle? Oh yes — form 7B. Have to remember that. Now, how many shall we give her — I mean, how many strokes do you intend to give her after break? Twelve? Oh, I see. Well, I know she’s had a bit of a smacked bottom, but — well, alright then, let’s say eight. And a couple more if she wriggles too much, eh? Um — d’you suppose she’ll do any wriggling...........?’
‘Well look at that. The cheeky devil’s been inching her knickers up while we’ve been off having tea. You’d think a St Angela’s girl would know better than that —. What’s that, Hazel? Mr Evans did what? While we weren’t here he popped in and really? Hmmmm. Well, I suppose your bum does look a bit pinker than it was when we left you up there. Anyway, never mind. I expect you deserved it or something. Now then, how many strokes were we going to give that pretty bottom of yours........?


  1. Reminds me of my last but one taste of the cane when 18. It was over knickers but same skirt and blouse. How the six strokes stung!