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Tuesday, 1 January 2019

At the Boys School

From New Blushes Uniform Girls 2.12
Angela Hopkins was going to have to transfer to the local boys school, St Michael’s, part time at least. She wanted to do A-Level Economics and St Monica’s didn’t offer that. So three mornings a week she was going to go over to St Michael’s. Secretly she found the prospect a bit daunting but she wasn’t going to admit that to anyone.
Angela was 17, a pretty girl, also quite tall and well-developed. At 17 of course a girl was sexually mature. That was what Vincent Smythe, Headmaster of St Michael’s, couldn’t help thinking when Angela first came to see him. Yes a pretty girl and clearly well-developed, he couldn’t help noticing that when she took off her coat to reveal her shape in a tightish button-down-the-front dress.
He had some coffee sent in to his private room and then he sat with her on the settee. And Vincent had the fantasy, as he chatted with her, of sliding his hand up Angela’s skirt between her thighs. To feel her cunt through her no doubt skimpy-thin nylon knickers. She seemed a little nervous, a little shy, and it was possible she would let him do it without any protests. That was what he imagined anyway. He had to shift his position as he got quite a sizable erection.
His other thought was about caning her. Caning this pretty I7-year-old would be quite fantastic. Making her pull up that tight skirt and take down her knickers. Tights too? She was wearing some sort of hose, he could see. Nylons would be nice but he knew women and older girls generally wore tights these days. Anyway make her bare her no doubt quite fantastic bottom and then bend over, his desk for instance. And then zip the cane in. Just two or three times but nice zippy ones. Strokes that would make her really gasp and writhe and roll that splendid bum.
These pleasant fantasies really were stiffening up his cock! So much so that it would be a bit of a problem when he had to stand up. Vincent tried to calm his thoughts. The problem of course was that he routinely had boys to deal with. If he had been a master over at St Monica’s then Miss Angela Hopkins, attractive though she undoubtedly was, would not have quite this effect on him. Masters over there who were so inclined, he was quite sure, managed to work matters out for themselves. They would find a girl who had some sort of guilty secret, or who simply wanted to get a good mark, and then indulge their pleasure. A clandestine caning of a pulchritudinous young miss. Or maybe actually fucking her. Oh yes, he knew it happened. And if a man had his desires regularly satisfied he could take a calmer approach. Calmer than Vincent Smythe felt at this moment with Angela Hopkins now presented before him.
Could he do something? He would like to fuck her, but that was probably out of the question at least until he knew Angela better. Failing that he would definitely like to cane her. A few judicious stokes of the cane across her bare bottom. Vincent could see no reason why he couldn’t achieve that, but it would take a few days at least to work up to it. It was a pleasure undeniably to look forward to. But right now…
And then the thought came. An examination! Yes why not! Get pretty Angela’s knickers down and her legs open! Well he was Head and had his responsibilities, and this new pupil’s health and well-being was certainly one of them. And he could do it now. Why not! Lock the door certainly (because he wouldn’t wish his secretary, Mrs Simpkins, or anyone else for that matter to come barging in during such an intimate time). And then… simply proceed!
Feeling undeniably aroused now, Vincent placed his cup on the low coffee table and moved closer to his new pupil. Sliding a friendly, headmasterly arm round her shoulders. And then broaching the matter. Angela didn’t get what he was talking about at first. But she was feeling nervous and put her non-comprehension down to that, and also she didn’t wish to seem slow or stupid. So she gave a nodded, smiling agreement while not being at all sure what she was agreeing to.
Then it became clearer. Mr Smythe wanted to carry out a physical examination. He said it was necessary, routine in fact. But being a private matter she probably wouldn’t want to discuss it with anyone, which he could quite understand. Anyway could she please stand up, and then take her knickers off?
It was of course a shock. Angela hadn’t been prepared for anything like this. She could feel herself flushing deeply as she got rather uncertainly to her feet. Mr Smythe was giving more details of what he wanted. He wanted her knickers off, or down at least, and then her skirt up round her waist. And then he wanted her lying on the coffee table, spread out on her back.
It was a shock alight. In amongst the embarrassment and confusion in her head was the one reassuring thought that she always wore clean underwear every day. Pristine knickers… which now had to come down…
Angela was wearing tights too, the Head had been correct in his guess there. The tights came down and her knickers too. Brief little virginal white ones. And then the tightish dress pulled up. Angela was somewhat distressed about all this but Vincent Smythe was making reassuring noises. No need to worry it is all quite private and confidential.’ Etc.
And so Angela did do as requested. Lowering herself onto her back on the low coffee table. With her skirt right up and her legs parted and her tights and knickers slid right down to her ankles. She knew that in this position she was inevitably displaying a full view of her cunt…
Mr Smythe kneeling at her side told Angela to relax. But how could she — when right away his hand was there. At her pussy! Caressing the hair-covered bulge. And then his index finger sliding along the line of her slit. Angela, despite her shock at what was happening, became wet almost immediately. And the finger slid in! In between those exquisitely sensitive lips.
She gave a frantic little groan. Well, nothing like this had ever happened at St Monica’s. It was simply too much! But there was more to come. Because Vincent Smythe, emboldened and aroused at what he had achieved so far, wanted more. Not necessarily a fuck, that was not possible on this lovely girl’s first morning. But something else pretty way out. And that something was sucking her. Sucking this now well lubricated and throbbing flesh that his fingers were manipulating…
His voice unavoidably trembling with excitement, Vincent said, ‘This is getting you all excited, isn’t it young lady? You’re getting very wet. And there’s a little something else I should like to do. For my own pleasure. I’m sure you won’t object. I should like to taste those juices. Suck you in fact…’
Angela gave another desperate moan. Had she heard the Head correctly!! What he had said was quite unbelievable. She gave another desperate little cry. But Smythe had manoeuvred into position between her slackly parted thighs. He was bending his head forward… and down… And shortly Angela felt his thrusting tongue.
The experience was fantastic! For Vincent Smythe certainly. He was so aroused there was nothing else for it, he had to jerk off immediately Angela had left. And naturally he couldn’t wait to have another encounter with his lovely new pupil.
For Angela devastating would be a more appropriate term for that first interview. She had never experienced anything remotely like it before. Never even dreamt anything like it. But it had inevitably been arousing. That had made it worse in a way. And she had actually come, when the Head had his head down there. Afterwards she just couldn’t bear to think about it. Yes devastating pretty much encompassed that first interview with Mr Smythe.
Her mother naturally wanted to know how it had gone. Angela somehow managed to force a trembly smile as she said, ‘OK.’ And then somewhat stutteringly, ‘He’s v…very nice, the Head.’ Vincent Smythe had of course reiterated before Angela left that the interview had been strictly private and confidential. Well she certainly had no intention of telling a single soul.
So yes, Vincent was definitely looking forward to a second session. But there were other things also to be considered. Other members of staff who might like to get in on the act. He intended to indicate firmly here that the new girl was strictly off limits. In fact he had already told them that Angela was to be his own personal responsibility.
But one other factor needing thought was Andrew Conway. Andrew was his Head Boy, and he was going to have to handle him carefully, because he did need Conway’s cooperation. Together with the prefects the Head Boy had quite a role in school discipline, and there were a number of unruly elements in the school. It was not difficult to imagine certain of them attempting to do awful things to this lovely new girl. Conway and the others would need to be especially vigilant.
Vincent had a meeting with Conway that same afternoon. Sitting with him in his private room the thought of Angela was naturally filling the Head’s mind. The thought of her so recently spread on the coffee table, cooperatively allowing herself to be examined. His hand… and then his mouth greedily at her… And the sweet girl responding…
He forced himself to concentrate. To tell Conway sternly that he would have to be especially vigilant with certain boys. Mayhew. Findford. Croton… The honour of the school was at stake. Not to mention possibly the honour of their lovely guest.
Andrew Conway, a big heavily-built lad, taller than the Head in fact, appeared to be listening solemnly.
And then he bluntly said it. He wanted permission to cane the new girl.
Vincent was quite astounded. Could he have heard the boy right!?
It seemed he had. Because Conway was going on. Saying he assumed the Head would be caning her, on the quiet of course. As he had that other girl a year ago. ‘And maybe doing other stuff as well!’ the boy added with a knowing grin.
Vincent Smythe went red in the face. Conway was no doubt referring to Susan Mannings, who had similarly come to the school part time a year before. Another delightful young miss. And he had caned her. But no one knew — or that was what he thought.
He expostulated, vehemently denying the accusation. Conway grinned again, then said that he had in fact observed a caning. He had come in to see the Head and not finding him in the office had happened to… ah… bend and put his eye to the keyhole of the inner sanctum. And just by chance…
Anyway, Conway went on quickly, he thought this new visitor should be caned. To make her properly aware of what discipline was at a boys’ school; also to ensure she didn’t start causing trouble. He thought the Head should cane her. And also he wanted to cane her himself, to make her fully aware of his own responsibility.
‘Of course all strictly on the q.t., Headmaster,’ he added.
This revelation was shocking indeed. Shocking! And of course impossible to deny
‘Ah… Yes… ah… I do now recall there was that one occasion.. But looking through keyholes, Conway… most reprehensible indeed.’
‘Sorry sir. It was just a sort of unthinking action. But I do think it was the right thing, caning her, sir. And this new girl too, she should definitely get it too. To show her the ropes like I say. But you and me both, sir. Please sir.’
Boys could be caned at St Michael’s of course, but it didn’t happen very often. But the Head Boy wasn’t allowed to cane. Maybe hit the younger ones with a gym-shoe but nothing more. So Conway expecting to cane lovely Angela was definitely over the top. Out of the question really — except for this unfortunate knowledge he had, through his prying. That undoubtedly gave him a lever.
Vincent Smythe shook his head thoughtfully. ‘I don’t think it’s on. Apart from being against all possible regulations. She wouldn’t agree to it for one thing. And if she didn’t agree there would be no way…’
‘She’ll agree if it’s got your authority, sir!’ Conway said eagerly. He was feeling really horny now, at the thought of it. And he could sense the Head’s wavering. ‘And you’re right about Mayhew and that lot. They’re going to want very careful watching. Otherwise they’re going to be trying to get her in a quiet corner, and shagging her or something. So I’ll have to keep a tight watch on them. And I will. But… uh… I’d really like to, sir. Cane her! I bet she’s got a really lovely tight bum!’
‘Stop that talk!’ the Head said sharply. ‘Caning is a serious matter. Not just an indulgence. And… ah… I haven’t in fact caned her myself yet. You’re being much too bold, Conway.’
‘Yes sir. Sorry sir. It’s just that I can’t help getting excited at the thought. So please sir! I know you’re going to cane her yourself, and quite right too. So…’
Vincent Smythe pulled a face. Actually the thought of Conway caning the girl was a bit of a turn-on. Would she agree to it? If it was presented as part of school tradition or something. But a strictly private act naturally, so that no one else would know.
‘Well, I’ll think about it, Conway. Needless to say it’s quite beyond any school regulations. And if it ever came to light I could not admit to any responsibility. It would be purely on your own initiative.’
‘Yes sir. Of course.’
‘Perhaps you could approach her and say you had my authority. With as I say I might subsequently have to deny.’
‘Yes sir. Great!’
But not right yet. Clearly if there’s going to be caning then as Headmaster I must do it first. I’ll let you know when you can proceed. This conversation I don’t need to tell you, Conway, has been in the strictest confidence. And that other thing, that you claimed to have seen. I trust you haven’t mentioned a word of that to anyone else. And will not.’
‘Absolutely sir. My word of honour.’
‘Good. One other thing, Conway. If you do do it, then that’s all. Nothing else. Just a caning. I certainly can’t allow any… ah… handling of the young lady’s private parts. Strictly nothing at all of that.’
Because that certainly was something Vincent Smythe wished to keep to himself. Well surely a Head had a few privileges which he didn’t need to share.
Angela knew Andrew Conway a little. Knew who he was at least, and a couple of girls she knew were quite keen on him, he was tall and not bad looking and of course Head Boy at St Michael’s. She herself had no such feelings, in fact Angela wasn’t particularly keen on any special boy though she was aware that some of them fancied her. She hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem now she was attending the boys’ school.
Anyway on her second day she was told that Andrew Conway wanted to see her, at lunch time in that little room he had as Head Boy. Yes Mr Andrew Conway was not wasting much time following his inspiring chat with the Head!
Angela for her part was still feeling shock from the previous day and her own visit to Mr Smythe. She was trying to put it out of her mind now, so that she could begin to concentrate on her studies, but it was difficult. That examination! Now what could Andrew Conway possibly want? Probably just some routine matter…
He was already in there waiting. There was a table and a couple of old armchairs and he invited her to sit down. A few general comments, was she getting on alright, etc. He seemed to Angela to be nervous — or excited? Then he got right on to what he had obviously called her in about and there was no doubt that Conway was excited. His face flushed now…
This tradition they had at St Michael’s. Had the Head mentioned it yet? This rule that if a girl came to the school like Angela, part-time, she could be caned. By the Head. And also by the Head Boy.
Angela couldn’t believe it. She shook her head, her own face red now. He had to be joking. No, he wasn’t joking Conway said. She could go and ask the Head. And in any case Mr Smythe would be caning her, Conway had no doubt about that
He leant towards her. ‘Look, it’s no big deal. And you don’t have to worry about anyone knowing. It’ll be quite confidential. It’s a secret tradition, in fact I didn’t know about it myself until I became Head Boy. So no one is going to know.’ He grinned. ‘But I do want to do it though. Well wouldn’t you, in my position? And it is the tradition.’
Angela stuttered that she didn’t believe it. She stood up. Her legs felt shaky. Conway got to his feet as well.
‘Are you sure the Head hasn’t done it already? Caned you?’
Flush-faced, Angela shook her head dismissively.
‘Well something then. I bet he’s done something.’
She shook her head again, but her expression gave her away. Conway gave a chortling laugh.
‘He has, hasn’t he! The randy sod! What did he do? Take your knickers down and play with your pussy!’
Angela felt sick. It was near enough to the truth. Conway had closed in. He slid his arm round her.
‘I could tell everyone! But I won’t. Just as long as you’re cooperative, OK. All I want is this lovely bum…’
His hand slid down, to grope her bottom. With a whimpering yelp Angela squirmed away. He pulled her to him again, this time with her back, and her bottom, against him. Hard against her bottom she could feel his stiff prick. He ground it in against her. As she squirmed away again his hand came down in front of her and briefly groped at her cunt.
Angela stood with her back against the plain whitewashed wall. This little ante room was behind the school chapel. It was bare of any furniture except for the black stool against the wall next to her. She could guess what the stool was for. For her to bend over… There was only one other thing in here. The cane hanging from a hook on the wall, Angela shivered.
She had agreed to what Conway wanted. She hadn’t gone to the Head because she guessed he would only confirm what Conway said — and also quite possibly want to take the opportunity to do more of what he had done that last time. Another ‘examination’. Or of course the cane. Which Conway said Mr Smythe was going to do. So she had agreed rather than have the Head Boy carry out his threat and tell people about what had already happened with the Head. She had agreed to come here now, after school. To let Conway cane her bottom…
She shivered again, and swallowed. Her eyes flickering round the stark small room. It was all so unbelievable. It couldn’t all be some kind of awful joke? She had thought of that of course, that possibility, more than once. Even now… was it just possible…?
Then the door abruptly opened. It was Andrew Conway of course. Moving smartly in and turning to lock the door behind him.
‘OK?’ he asked. ‘All set?’
Angela gave a panicky little squeak.
He had come in close, and grabbed her like before. His hands going round her, one squeezing her bum. His breath was hot in her ear.
‘Some girls like it, or so I’ve read.  Having their knickers taken down and then their bare bottom whacked. It gets their pussies all hot.’
Angela made a whimpering sound. She was feeling sick. He was going to do it. It obviously wasn’t any sort of joke. She weakly tried to struggle away from his grasp.
‘Anyway we’ll see, won’t we? I want you kneeling up on the stool. Facing the wall. With your bottom bared of course. Your skirt up and your knickers down. And anything else. Tights, are you wearing them?’
She was wearing tights and Conway dragged them down. Making her get up kneeling on the stool, he tucked her buttoned dress up round her waist and then rolled the tights down close to her knees. Then her little knickers, sliding them down behind the tights. To bare Angela’s quivering bum. He made her lean forward, against the wall, and spread her arms. While his hand groped at her bare bum.
‘How are you feeling, Angela? Getting hot for it? Your pussy getting a little bit wet perhaps…?’
Angela’s mind seemed to go blank. This couldn’t really be happening. His taunting voice. His hand at her bared bottom. Was she imagining it all…
The voice stopped. And the hand. Was it just an awful nightmare? Then she gave a shuddery gasp. The cane had sliced in, squarely across both trembly nates. No. It was real alright. It was happening.
The cane came whipping in again.
The next day Angela had a call to see the Head. In that private little room of his again right after school. Mrs Simpkins his secretary smiling at her as she put her coat on to go home. Mr Smythe, sitting with Angela on the settee, wanted to know about Conway. Had she seen him? And what had the Head Boy done? Feeling a bit sick Angela forced herself to tell him about the caning.
Mr Smythe said it was nothing to do with him of course, but Conway was Head Boy and was allowed a certain freedom of action. Naturally Angela was to say nothing about it to anyone.
And the other thing of course was…
Yes. Of course. Mr Smythe wanted to cane her too. It was just a formality, to ensure she was aware of discipline. So would Angela please stand up and take her knickers off. And then bend herself over the coffee table please.


  1. Hi Fleas63
    I would like to wish you a Happy New Year.

    1. Thanks, and a happy new year to you too.

  2. These 'New Blushes' stories were very crude. No subtlety, no finesse. Compare this, for instance, to 'Pitman's Penchant' from Uniform Girls No 9 (Jan 2018). There's always a kind of 'suspension of disbelief' involved with enjoying these stories but a good writer makes that suspension so much easier.

    Happy New Year!

  3. Say what you want you want about Alan Bell he always paid top money to top writers

    1. It's quite hard to readily find information on these matters. Perhaps you or others may know more than I do? Was Alan Bell the proprietor of Blushes (as well as making some masterly appearances in a number of Roue/Blushes videos)? If so, did he cease to be proprietor by the time of 'New Blushes'? I must say that I usually find the earlier Blushes stories to be of a higher quality than the latter ones (though there are exceptions) - I find it's a commonplace with many instances of, er, erotic entertainment, that things start off great and then gradually go downhill. One thing I did read on the internet somewhere is that Mr Bell also provided the illustrations, i.e. he drew them, for quite a few Roue and early Blushes stories, those illustrating 'Basic Training - Starting at the Bottom' from Blushes no 2 (Jan. 2017) being just one fine example. If so, in addition to everything else, he was a superb illustrator with a very great ability to convey in pictorial terms his obviously strong feel for the subject matter. And if it wasn't him, whoever the artist was, it was someone who was quite brilliant. I greatly admire those pictures.

    2. I love the style and salaciousness of the pencil and line art in question and the atmosphere of the early Roue and Blushes stories. Spankers' Gallery and St Angelas fiction in early Roue remain firm favourites of mine. It's good to know that there are still others enthusiastic about those elements of the magazines - a niche within a niche, as it were. Would be happy to correspond/ meet with likeminded.

  4. I agree - I love those illustrations.

    There's definitely a variability to the writing quality in the Blushes stable, but when they are good they are very good indeed. Underneath the cloak of anonymity they seem to have employed some great writers (such as R.T. Mason), but also some to whom English appears to be a second language (much of the later Justice output for example).

  5. Bell died very suddenly. Blushes vol 2 came after his passing. His family did not any thing to do with the magazines so it passed ownership. In 1985 he got a letter from Alan. Sad that he's gone. A real trail blazer