We have something a little different for today’s class: a creative writing exercise. I thought that it would be fun for us to put all that English knowledge to good use and write a nice story. And a gold star to Andrea for the excellent suggestion of the class writing a story together. Julie, don’t pull that face: you will get a gold star when you have earned one.
You all like reading stories, don’t you? And I know that several of you like telling them to get each other into trouble. So writing a story should be easy for such creative little thinkers!
Now, before we begin I should explain about some of the different ways in which a story can be told.
When Harry rushed up to me the other day and said, “Miss! Miss! Julie hit me! I was innocently lifting the back of her skirt with a stick when she suddenly span round and pow!” he was telling a story – a silly little story, but a story nonetheless – in the first person. That means that the ‘voice’ of the story – the narrative voice – says ‘I’, rather than ‘Harry’. The story is told directly from Harry’s point of view.
Were the story to be told in the third person, it would sound something like this:
Harry rushed up to Miss Hasler in an awful tizzy. “Miss! Miss! Julie hit me!” he cried. “I was innocently lifting the back of her skirt with a stick when she suddenly span round and pow!”
So we have first person narration and third person narration… what about second person narration? Does that exist? It does! Using the second person means saying ‘you’, rather than ‘I’ or ‘Harry’. If we again use the story of Harry getting a deserved smack from Julie as an example, in the second person it would read:
You ran up to Miss Hasler in an awful tizzy. “Miss! Miss! Julie hit me!” you cried. “I was innocently lifting the back of her skirt with a stick when she suddenly span round and pow!”
For our story today we shall use third person narration. So, if you want to put yourself into the story, you should refer to yourself by name. “Miss Hasler was walking around the school playground, watching the children play. She heard a squeal and turned to see poor Andrea rubbing her head sorrowfully. ‘Dana pulled my hair, Miss!’ the pretty little girl frowned.”
One more thing to bear in mind. All of the stories I have mentioned today, and many of the stories you yourselves will have read, are told as if they happened in the past. “Miss Hasler was walking;” “Goldilocks ate the porridge all up;” “They all lived happily ever after.” This is because they are written in something called the past tense. Just as there are three kinds of narrative voice that you can use when writing or telling a story, there are three kinds of tense: past, present and future (although the future tense isn’t especially usable in English). Our story will use the past tense.
Now, is everyone ready? Good. Put your hand up if you have an idea for the story and I will write it on the board. (Within reason). And don’t be afraid to let your imaginations go. Our story can jump around as madly as Timmy on a trampoline: the magical thing about fiction is that it is only limited by the author’s imagination.
You all like reading stories, don’t you? And I know that several of you like telling them to get each other into trouble. So writing a story should be easy for such creative little thinkers!
Now, before we begin I should explain about some of the different ways in which a story can be told.
When Harry rushed up to me the other day and said, “Miss! Miss! Julie hit me! I was innocently lifting the back of her skirt with a stick when she suddenly span round and pow!” he was telling a story – a silly little story, but a story nonetheless – in the first person. That means that the ‘voice’ of the story – the narrative voice – says ‘I’, rather than ‘Harry’. The story is told directly from Harry’s point of view.
Were the story to be told in the third person, it would sound something like this:
Harry rushed up to Miss Hasler in an awful tizzy. “Miss! Miss! Julie hit me!” he cried. “I was innocently lifting the back of her skirt with a stick when she suddenly span round and pow!”
So we have first person narration and third person narration… what about second person narration? Does that exist? It does! Using the second person means saying ‘you’, rather than ‘I’ or ‘Harry’. If we again use the story of Harry getting a deserved smack from Julie as an example, in the second person it would read:
You ran up to Miss Hasler in an awful tizzy. “Miss! Miss! Julie hit me!” you cried. “I was innocently lifting the back of her skirt with a stick when she suddenly span round and pow!”
For our story today we shall use third person narration. So, if you want to put yourself into the story, you should refer to yourself by name. “Miss Hasler was walking around the school playground, watching the children play. She heard a squeal and turned to see poor Andrea rubbing her head sorrowfully. ‘Dana pulled my hair, Miss!’ the pretty little girl frowned.”
One more thing to bear in mind. All of the stories I have mentioned today, and many of the stories you yourselves will have read, are told as if they happened in the past. “Miss Hasler was walking;” “Goldilocks ate the porridge all up;” “They all lived happily ever after.” This is because they are written in something called the past tense. Just as there are three kinds of narrative voice that you can use when writing or telling a story, there are three kinds of tense: past, present and future (although the future tense isn’t especially usable in English). Our story will use the past tense.
Now, is everyone ready? Good. Put your hand up if you have an idea for the story and I will write it on the board. (Within reason). And don’t be afraid to let your imaginations go. Our story can jump around as madly as Timmy on a trampoline: the magical thing about fiction is that it is only limited by the author’s imagination.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl called...
ReplyDeleteThank you Penny. Enjoyed the story and lesson.
ReplyDeleteHug,
joey
That's a funny name for a little girl! ;)
ReplyDeletePenny, and her best bosom pal Julie. They were like chalk and cheese, what Penny didn't know that day was that her special bum chum was to get a caning like never before; from their,now even firmer and fairer teacher Miss Hasler. On the orders of her best friends mother herself!
ReplyDeleteAbove from Harry.
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler, their blond beautiful teacher had been intructed in no uncertain terms to be most severe with young Julie, she was said to now be firmer because of this and;fairer because she thought herself fair before her instruction but she decided she would be fair to Julies mother. Penny and Julie had such a little titter, as they walked the shiny hard floor, each holding their books, heads turning into each other.
ReplyDeleteHarry.
Further down the reflective dark wood lined corridor, sat Miss Hasler marking her pupils tatty exercise books, hearing voices outside, her pencil lead breaking on the page below her; not in her character at all, then moving from one cheek to the next she remembered her obligation. Raising slowly,pacing herself to the door and lifting her head as if listening, turning the door knob with her supple smooth hands she spy's the painful culprit of her predicament. You two her now !
ReplyDeleteIs anyone else want a go? I might be enjoying this to much, sat under a tree over looking a landscape vista.
Harry
Very nice, Harry. Your writing is very atmospheric. But I think it might be fun to escape the confines of our little school for a while and whisk ourselves off to a faraway land. How can we do that? Like this...
ReplyDeleteLucinda smiled and turned the page, curious to find out what the strict Miss Hasler had in store for the naughty Julie and Penny. But, just as her eye lighted upon the first line of the next page, she was startled by a yell.
"Lucinda!" her mother cried again. "I thought I told you to go to the market for bread! You lazy child!"
And she had, of course. But naughty Lucinda had stopped halfway for a rest under a tree. She had only meant to read a couple of pages of her book, but...
"I'll teach you to disobey your mother!"
And with that, Lucinda was taken firmly by the ear and marched ominously to a nearby fallen tree.
Little Andrea crept down the hall hoping to see where Miss Hasler had taken Julie. Oooohhhhh...the headmistress' office. Little Andrea was far too good a girl to ever have to go there, not like Julie who was very naughty. The well behaved little girl wondered what would happen to Julie in the office. The secretary was out at her morning tea, so Little Andrea scampered across the floor and gingerly opened the door to peek in...
ReplyDeleteNote: I would never do something like this Miss Hasler, peeking is naughty.
Lucinda's mother tossed her - by her ear, no less - across the downed tree. Lucinda sighed, knowing what was coming next. She planted her feet firmly and placed her palms on the wet earth.
ReplyDeleteIn the anticipatory silence, she felt her mind wander, as it often did...
I would hazard a suggestion. We have several story lines. Perhaps we could signify which story line we are advancing by putting an (A) or a (B) or whatever at the beginning of the comment.
ReplyDeleteAlso, just as a personal aside, I would love it if one of these stories could be a non-ageplay story. That's just my personal request.
Don't worry, HG. Our stories don't have to follow on from each other: just writing creatively is a useful exercise. And I might take the various strands and weave them into a complete story or stories later on.
ReplyDeleteHugh Mill-Iatedgeek was on his way home from work. The day had started brightly but now the rain lashed down from a dark sky, hammering upon his car. He thought about what he might have for dinner.
ReplyDeleteAnd then he saw the most fantastic thing: a ghostly rider upon a horse standing in the road in front of him.
Lucinda, could in her minds eye see what her mother was planning, knowing her mothers own earthy common sence. She had hung about, mother told her not too, but that didn't warrant this hurried marking. Mother knew about the Christian, twins down from Oxford on the estate two farms away and of her fancy to John the younger. Also the bread she was sent to get was for mouthfuls of salty cucumber sandwiches to enjoy when the new vicars helper came for tea. Mother must have called Mrs Walker on the new telephone gadget, and asked if I had passed. The dance that night had been a worry for all of us, could this lead to marriage? It would fit with Lucindas plans to be a local teacher, but when word got out that she had been invited to the water hole by John, she was worried how it would go, her mother knew how to get her out of the problem and still be left with Lucindas best chances.it would be an obediency test.
ReplyDeleteI want my mothers advice but I know I won't like it, my body says go to and enjoy the Hole mother says decorum for the dance. By sulking around her mother had come to her aid in more ways and with wisdom unknown in mind until this moment.
"you won't be enjoying the Hole with these marks on the backs of your legs."
Said mother, the swishy stripped willow cut and cut hot flashes of brightness on her summer dress, she felt her head fill with blood as her pert bottom as the tree she was over was waist high; hands in the dirt and now a log being pushed between my two feet stretching the dress material taught across My prostrate back side and thighs.
"these are for getting me late for the vicars tea." howling cuts higher than the thigh now, the sit spot. "and these," starting high up by backside coming down all the time lower whippy whippy lower lower the middle crest ," this might bring you on a day earlier than normal which might," slower now get near her sit spot."Help" cut across legs "you" cut high up"out" an almighty rush right where the rain started in the valley between bum and legs. " go and get the bread for me now will you dear?, then come back at once and help me prepare for the tea."
Lucindas mother was gone. Lusinda went to push herself up with her finger tips, but couldn't get enough hieght, then streched her legs apart really tightly against the dress and her feet were no longer spread by the log, tightening up her stomach mussels , pushing with her fingers and pulling up her knees Lucinda un gracefully had both feet and body standing which felt new, her seat was ablaze the tops of her legs! Quickly she was off to market, flush, flush knowing it was all probably probably all for the best, she just couldn't see it just as clearly as she had done, all those moments ago.
Harry
It looks like my last passage hasn't been posted twice, after all, I'll just go and stand in the corner of the class room anyway till Miss and all the others get back, and hope I won't get one of those super fast swishings over her desk facing the class with my trousers down and pants held up wedgey style to smiles of joy from every one. Then to be dismissed immediately, I don't one of those,for sure, definitely not, no way.
ReplyDeleteI would fain check your loquacity! (As Vivaldi once said to Paulo). I am here, silly boy, as is the rest of the class.
ReplyDeleteAnd perhaps the corner is the best place for you to spend some time. Such sarcasm and cheekiness! One more word and you will find out just how little you really want a good hiding.
On with the dunce's cap and face the wall!
harry is a dork.
ReplyDeleteNow Julie, that isn't much of a story, is it? You will have to do better than that if you want a gold star.
ReplyDeleteEven if he had been driving on a good night, on a dry road, there would have been no chance of stopping the car in time. In a moment's flash of thought, as his foot slammed the brake, Hugh realized this terrible fact, a tragedy beyond comprehension. To no one in particular, he screamed. He pumped the brake madly, but the tires of his car could have been on ice as well as water. He could not bear to see the onrushing collision.
ReplyDeleteLike the slow fade of a thrash metal song, the car slid to a stop. There was no sound but for the rain and the frantic beat of windshield wipers. Hugh dared to open his eyes. There above him, through shimmering wet glass, standing indifferent, loomed the beautiful apparition. Sitting on the horse was a woman.
Miss Penelope said: 'Now Julie, that isn't much of a story, is it? You will have to do better than that if you want a gold star.'
ReplyDeleteBut not if she wants a spanking, ma'am!
Gosh, Andrea is such a scheming brat! :P
ReplyDeleteI am not! You better hope I don't tell Aunty on you! She'll spank you, and hard, too!
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler slapped her ruler on the desk.
ReplyDeleteChildren! A little decorum if you please, or the only story told today will be 'The Naughty Class Learns a Painful Lesson'.
*shivers, but sticks his tongue out at Andrea*
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler gasped at HG's display of naughtiness. She leapt to her feet, enraged. In a moment she was at the boy's desk. In another she had taken him by the ear and lifted him from his seat.
ReplyDeleteHG! WHAT is the meaning of sticking your tongue out at Andrea? Don't look at your feet when I'm talking to you, young man! And a shrug isn't an answer. You deliberately stuck your tongue out at her, didn't you? That is VERY naughty, HG. Very naughty indeed.
She reinforced her point with a smart smack to the back of HG's pants.
I am very cross with you. And I am very disappointed in you. You are such a bright little boy, and yet you are deliberately naughty in my class, like a silly, naughty little brat.
Well, I am going to punish you for your naughtiness. You will stay behind after class and write, one hundred times, 'I will not stick my tongue out at other children'. You will spend the rest of this class in the naughty corner. While you sit there and stare at the wall, I want you to think very hard about your behaviour. Only naughty children sit in the naughty corner, don't they? Yes, you are right to nod sadly. They do.
Miss Hasler marched the wincing boy through the classroom and into the corner, only relinquishing her hold on his ear when he was safely deposited upon the dreaded naughty stool.
Now, does anyone have any more story ideas?
*HG flushes beet red and remains silent for the rest of class*
ReplyDelete*Raises her hand*
ReplyDeleteMiss what about a story about a naughty little boy, we can call him HG, who stuck his tongue out at the best girl in the class and had to be spanked by the beautiful, lovely teacher, while the best girl got to watch his little botty turn all red and hot over Miss' lap? That sounds like a story we'd all enjoy, Miss.
Yes spank him
ReplyDeleteTimmy
Miss Hasler said, "That’s quite enough, Andrea – it is best to not encourage him. Let’s try a different story. This one’s called 'When Baby Bear Went to Bed.'
ReplyDelete“At long last Goldilocks was gone, thought hardly forgotten. The household slowly calmed back to its normal state in lurching, two-steps-forward, one-step-back sort of way, and evening found Baby Bear off to bed, tucked in with a story that made no mention of little girls or intruders. After all the excitement, Baby Bear was soon sleeping soundly.
Mama and Papa Bear were not quite so quick to head for slumberland. There was a long talk to be had and leaving the door unlocked might be only one of the topics. Combined with near-incessant complaining since returning home – about the chair, the food, and the bed – made it pretty clear that someone was due for a serious spanking upon their bare behind.”
lol, ventriloquism! Whatever next? ;)
ReplyDeleteThank you very much for your story introduction, John, and a warm welcome to my little classroom/blog! It is always nice to welcome new pupils. I hope you are better behaved than the majority of my little cherubs.
Re your story, the question is, bare behind or bear behind?
Andrea, dear, that is a very nice idea for a story. Especially the part about the beautiful, lovely teacher. You are a clever girl!
ReplyDeleteAnd rest assured that, were any naughty boy called HG silly enough to stick his tongue out at you or any other girl in my class, the story would be played out in thoroughly painful, humiliating reality.
*HG's eyes widen and he squirms on his bottom as Andrea and Ms. Hasler discuss him. His eyes dart from Andrea to Ms. Hasler to Timmy. He does not speak, per Ms. Hasler's instructions.*
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry, Miss Hasler - I skipped the class on homophones because I thought it was on homophobes.
ReplyDeleteAre we going to play out the story? How exciting!
We will play it out if anyone is naughty, Master MacLeod. Including you.
ReplyDeleteAnd we'll have less of the puns, if you please.
*HG holds back a snort at the thought of Ms. Hasler correcting anyone for using too many puns. Pot, meet kettle!*
ReplyDeleteStill learning the rules, Miss.
ReplyDeleteThe rules are quite simple, young man.
ReplyDeletePupils should be smartly presented in school uniform, and can expect to be punished if they are not. On that note, your tie is rather untidy - fasten it properly.
Pupils should be well-behaved and respectful. I will not have note-passing, doodling, daydreaming, whispering, backchat, fidgeting, pouting, shouting, teasing or showing off in my class!
You can see that HG is sitting in the naughty corner with the dunce cap on his silly head. He is there because he stuck his tongue out at Andrea. If he does it again he will go over my knee. If you want to join him in the corner you will misbehave.
How come he doesn't get a spanking like me. I got spanked the first time I did something naughty.
ReplyDelete*pout* *Timmy frowns and crosses his arms*
Timmy
(straightens tie and posture)
ReplyDeleteI'm only here for the story...
Silence in the naughty corner! And you can take that silly look off your face, too. You're going exactly the right way for another spanking, Timmy, so I would advise you to be quiet.
ReplyDeleteNow, if it's alright with everyone we shall return to the class topic. Can anyone think of a way to finish any of our stories?
I like the one with the horse.
ReplyDeleteThat is a good story, isn't it? It's a bit scary, though - the sort of story that you hear around a campfire at night.
ReplyDeleteDo you think the woman and the horse are really ghosts? They certainly seem to be. Or maybe it's a clever trick of some sort.
What do you think happens next? What would you do if you were the person in the car?
I don'tt think they're ghosts though they almost ended up that wayh. Ms. Ryder. The woman, sits on a stallion about 22 hands high, holding him in perfect check - he didn't even rear in the face of the oncoming car. Hugh drinks in the long lovely strong solid legs and firm bottom of an experienced rider - one who's holding a crop while the steed drips with more straps than raindrops.
ReplyDeleteDid Hugh go to happy hour, was running late and was speeding, or did a spoiled princess ride directly into oncoming traffic?
*HG thinks she's a spoiled princess*
ReplyDeleteI'd like to see you spank me again Miss Penelope
ReplyDelete*sticks tongue out at her*
My mummy is the only one who spanks me.
We should stop talking about these stupid stories and do something more fun like recess.
Timmy
Miss Hasler sighs wearily.
ReplyDeleteTIMMY! You BAD boy! Come here at once!
NO!
ReplyDeleteTimmy
*Timmy jumps out of his seat and runs to the door but Miss Penelope intercepts him. She takes him by the ear and pulls him to the front of the class*
ReplyDelete*He shouts*
Only my mummy can spank me! You can't! Who told you that you could spank me!
Timmy
And you have the nerve to complain about getting a spanking! Wretched child! I'm not surprised your mother spanks you, if this is how you behave!
ReplyDeleteThe infuriated teacher lands a series of hard smacks to the boy's backside, holding his arm tight with her other hand. She leans down and applies several stinging smacks to the backs of his legs.
I've never *SMACK!* known cheek *SMACK!* like it! *SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!*
You clearly need a lesson in Latin expressions... lesson one is the phrase in *SMACK!* loco *SMACK!* parentis! *SMACK!*
It's a week of detentions for you, my lad. We'll see just how naughty you feel sitting here all by yourself, after all the other children have gone home!
After applying six more heavy swats to Timmy's squirming behind, Miss Hasler drags the insolent boy over to the naughty corner. She unfastens his grey shorts and yanks them down.
Now stand and face the wall, hands on your head! You will be silent for the rest of the lesson, unless you want a taste of the cane!
*instead of behaving Timmy turns around and kicks is frustrated teacher in the leg*
ReplyDeleteI don't want to go to the corner I don't I don't
Timmy
OW! That DOES it!
ReplyDeleteDana, HG: would you kindly restrain Timmy for a moment? I think that, as he has declined the opportunity to stand in the naughty corner, he should be afforded the chance to sample the spanking bench.
Miss Hasler strides a little painfully to the back of the classroom. She pulls a dark sheet off a mysterious shape and reveals an uncomfortable-looking bench.
Bring him here, please... that's it... very good. You can both have a gold star after class. Now, over he goes. That's it. Hold him in place while I strap him down...
...DO stop wriggling, Timmy! It's for your own good...
...one last strap...
...there!
We'll have quiet in my class whether you like it or not, Timmy. Open wide for Miss's ballgag... good boy. And I'll just fasten it nice and tight... there, now! That's better, isn't it? I do like a nice, quiet boy.
And you can stay there until you've learnt your lesson. Don't worry - I'll give you a good thrashing with my favourite cane at the end of school.
Now, back to your seats, children. We have a lesson to get on with and Timmy has distracted us all long enough.
*Timmy squirms nervously*
ReplyDeletePlease no I'm sorry I won't do it again.
No don't spank me yet.
Timmy
So the woman on the horse is a spoiled princess, is she HG? And what might she do next, now that she has caused poor Hugh to screech to a halt in his car?
ReplyDelete*Timmy incoherently mumbles in the back of the room*
ReplyDelete*He give the teacher a mean look*
Timmy
*HG gratefully takes his seat in class away from the naughty stool*
ReplyDeleteHugh would be furious, m'am. I reckon he's got a spare walking cane in his car...
Hugh winds his window down and gives the girl - who now sits rather less proudly atop her horse, having cantered safely to the roadside - an almighty telling-off. Reddening by the moment, she realises that he is right to be angry; her head drops in shame...
ReplyDelete"I'm really sorry," she limply offers, but Hugh is not satisfied with that.
"You will follow me, young lady," he commands, his voice calm and authoritative despite his anger. "There is a turning up ahead that leads to a nice quiet spot. Your horse can have a well-deserved rest, and you can receive a well-deserved thrashing."
The girl does not answer, but merely nods.
Miss Hasler? I'm afraid I have to leave for a dentist's appointment and will have to finish the story at home...
ReplyDelete*the end of school bell rings and the all thank Miss Hasler and run along to their homes. Miss Penelope then turns her attention to little Timmy in the back of the room*
ReplyDeleteTimmy
Very well, John - just make sure you do finish it.
ReplyDeleteOh my, is that the time already? Why, it's almost as if one pupil wants to monopolise my time and set the clocks forward especially.
ReplyDeletePack your things up neatly, children, and don't talk to any strangers on the way home!
Miss Hasler strides over to the squirming, moaning little wretch spreadagled on the spanking bench and pats his bottom possessively.
And how is little Timmy? Very comfortable, by the look of things! Well, I'll just pop off to the staff room for an hour or so and catch up with the gossip over a stiff drink. Don't you go anywhere... I'll be back soon enough. If I remember, that is.
*Timmy gulps and waits and waits, finally and hour later she wanders back in*
ReplyDeleteTimmy
Still here, I see. That's one way to keep you in your place, I suppose... strapping you down. I think you may have to spend more lessons on the spanking bench.
ReplyDeleteYour behaviour today really has been reprehensible. To say that I'm disappointed in you would be a grave understatement. I am appalled.
Miss Hasler strides over to the assortment of canes hanging from the wall beside the blackboard. She runs her hand lightly along them, as if they were colourful blooms in a field, then pulls one out. Flexing it menacingly between her hands, she slowly walks down the classroom toward Timmy.
If a good beating really is the only way to make you behave, then that is what I am duty-bound to administer. It really is for your own good.
Miss Hasler places the cane against Timmy's bottom. She smiles at his muffled little whine, and taps the cane a few times on her target.
*Timmy squirms his poor bottom in anticipation*
ReplyDeleteTimmy
Miss Hasler draws the cane back, then whips it through the air at full force, scorching Timmy's bottom with a fulsome stroke. A moment later she repeats the sharp motions, striking the exact same latitude. Another heartbeat and a third stroke lands. Timmy howls through his gag, but his teacher doesn't so much as bat an eye.
ReplyDeleteYou are a VERY bad boy, Timmy.
ReplyDeleteThe fourth stroke lands low on the howling boy's defenceless rear. The fifth is higher, scorching the centre of his buttocks. The sixth is placed as low as the fourth was, prompting another muffled cry of distress.
Now. I am going to remove your gag, and you will thank me for disciplining you.
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler unlocks the ballgag and pulls it away from Timmy's slobbering mouth. She tosses it aside and stands flexing her cane before the wretched boy's face.
I'm sorry *sob* please forgive me I'll be good
ReplyDelete*Timmy runs and hugs his teacher*
Timmy
There, there. I'm sure you will be, Timmy.
ReplyDeleteNow, get dressed and go home to your mummy.
Miss Hasler whistled softly as she put away her canes and tidied up her classroom after what had been a long, draining day. Behind her, there is a soft clack-clacking on the linoleum floor.
ReplyDeleteAs Miss Hasler turns around, she comes face to face with a tall man with reddish-brown hair dressed in a smart suit. In his hand, he's holding the ballgag she carelessly tossed to the floor.
Tell me, young lady, why would a teacher need this thing?
....I totally fucking switch tense in that first graph. What shame I feel.
ReplyDeleteWe'll have less of that language, if you please ;P
ReplyDeleteJesus! Doesn't anyone knock around here?
ReplyDeleteIf you had to teach the class I do, you'd understand the need for that. The little hoodlum who wore it was lucky I didn't lock him in the stationery cupboard.
Now, if it's all right with you I'd quite like to go home as my head and my feet are killing me.
The man takes a silk handkerchief from his coat pocket and begins to wipe the ballgag. The handkerchief has the letters "TL" stenciled in gold on one corner. The man's eyes sort of widen as he considers the ballgag.
ReplyDeleteA child in your class wore this? What ever did he do to deserve that? Back when I was in school, the nuns would wash our mouths out with soap for cursing, talking back, blasphemy...
His eyes sort of go out of focus as he tries to remember other reasons the nuns would take to his mouth with soap.
The man turns on his heel and crosses over to the oaken cupboard, where he places the ballgag. Again there's that clack-clack on the floor from his polished shoes. Turning back to Miss Hasler, he pulls a sealed bottle of painkillers out of his coat and tosses it to the teacher.
Sorry to tell you this, but I think you'd better take two of these and have a seat. Go ahead and open it, it's a new bottle. Day's not quite over yet.
Miss Hasler places the unopened pill bottle on her desk and narrows her eyes at the presumptuous stranger.
ReplyDeleteDo you want to tell me who you are, or would you rather I call the police? This might surprise you but I'm not accustomed to having strange men wander into my classroom uninvited.
I wouldn't say I was uninvited, Miss. Your principal let me in.
ReplyDeleteThe man pulls an embossed card from his jacket and hands it to Miss Hasler. On the card are two simple lines.
Tarrence Lannister, Esq
Department for Education
Please, have a seat.
Oh... well, that's...
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler sits down.
There's a good girl.
ReplyDeleteThe man takes a seat across from Miss Hasler. In a quite forward fashion, he reaches forward and lifts her left foot off the floor. Taking her shoe in his hands, he pulls it off and starts to expertly rub Miss Hasler's aching foot.
Sorry for the aggression, but I can just see what these shoes are doing to your arches. You'll be crippled by the time your thirty if you don't give your feet proper care.
He continues to rub, staring at the heel of the foot and working up to the toes.
So, what did your student do that required that...thing be placed in his mouth?
Ohh... that's nice...
ReplyDeleteThe pupil I gagged was being completely disruptive, shouting and running around... ohhh... he even kicked me in the shin when I told him to stand in the corner.
I do have a whole class of children to teach, so I can't ohhh... let one disrupt everything...
Other foot, dear. Off with your shoe, there we go.
ReplyDeleteThe rubbing continues.
Surely I would hope this is your only problem child. What are your other children like?
The well-behaved ones are... mmm... in a minority... most like to answer back and tease one another and ohh... generally act up.
ReplyDeleteFor long, blissful moments Miss Hasler savours the tender massage. She moans softly at the man's touch, feeling herself drift away...
ReplyDeleteSome time later she opens her eyes and looks, a little nervously, at the man sitting across from her.
So, Mister ooh... Lannister... may I ask why you have come to visit me? Am I in trouble for something?
Mr. Lannister gives Miss Hasler a final squeeze.
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid that I have come with some bad news. We are well aware that your students have serious behavior problems, as well as academic ones. What's most troubling, however, is that you seem unwilling or unable to keep students back when they are unable to meet standards. We are finding students moving on from your class unable to read, unable to write, and believing that Margret Thatcher's nickname was 'Iron Maiden'.
This is a serious problem, young lady. We have taken notice in London.
He sits back, a serious look on his face
Miss Hasler slips her shoes back on and crosses her legs demurely.
ReplyDeleteI have to admit I'm confused, Mr Lannister. This is the first class I have taken, so no children have yet 'moved on'. And I teach English, not History, so Margaret Thatcher's nicknames have not been, and are unlikely to be, a topic.
Are you sure you have the right Miss Hasler?
For the first time, Mr. Lannister looks rather cross
ReplyDeleteOf course I have the right teacher, young lady. While I appreciate a woman with a sense of humor, that was not funny. I'd kindly ask you to take the situation a little more seriously.
We are almost two thirds through this school year, and your students, as evidenced by their work in other classes in this school, clearly have not mastered the critical communication skills that will allow them to be successful in their lives in the future. You are not meeting baseline expectations in any area for your year. This has serious implications for your students.
I am here because it has gotten bad enough to warrant an investigation and intervention on the part of the state.
Lannister's tone is soft but has a very hard edge to it, and he grows more rigid as he speaks.
Miss Hasler smiles at Mr Lannister's increasing rigidity, then lifts her gaze to his face.
ReplyDeleteI see. Well, as my employer, I concede that you have the right to evaluate my performance and take steps to improve it.
The young teacher leans forward and adjusts her shoe, treating Mr Lannister to an unintended view down her blouse. She sits up once more, a hint of anxiety now in her expression.
Might I ask what form this 'intervention' might take?
Mr. Lannister sits back, considering. His demeanor becomes far less strict upon hearing the anxiety in Miss Hasler's voice.
ReplyDeleteThis woman, he thinks, she puts up this solid and flippant wall as defense, but I can see her tremble like a rabbit caught in a snare.
It might surprise you to find out that I am personally sympathetic to your situation. Our monitoring began many months ago. I know that you are bright, hardworking, in a difficult situation...The children in this class are self-selecting and have come to you with their own problems...
His voice trails off, leaving an opening for Miss Hasler to speak.
I... I do my best for the children; I enjoy teaching them. It is hard to know what to do in every situation, but I put the need for a quiet, productive learning environment first. That is why I put the gag on Timmy... so the other children could work in peace. And before that young man left the classroom today he hugged me and said he had learned his lesson.
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler gives a little sigh and looks into Mr Lannister's eyes, her own hazel-green eyes softly sad.
Am I to be sanctioned in some way?
Lannister, almost instinctively, reaches forward and places a comforting hand on Miss Halser's knee.
ReplyDeleteThere, there, girl. It'll be alright.
He waits for what he's fairly certain will be a gush of tears.
Miss Hasler's gaze drifts down to the hand on her knee, lingering there for a moment before continuing down to her feet, mirroring the downward trajectory of her self-assurance. She gulps back a tear before, frowning uncertainly, lifting her eyes once more to face the man sitting across from her.
ReplyDeletePlease, Mr Lannister... please tell me what you are going to do with me.
Again, almost instinctively, Mr. Lannister stands and gathers Penny into his arms. As he holds her close and strokes her hair, Lannister whispers softly
ReplyDeleteIt'll be ok, my dear. There are, some...sanctions from the state. Some required unpaid training. And it'll go in your personal file....
Miss Hasler buries her head in Lannister's chest, tears finally falling down her sad little face.
ReplyDeleteY-yes, Mr Lannister...
Before he quite realizes what's happening, he's peppering her hair and wet face with kisses, holding her trembling frame in his strong arms...
ReplyDeleteShh...Shh...
Miss Hasler, weary from the day's exertions, her mind swimming with conflicting thoughts and emotions, almost yields to the handsome man's unexpected attentions. Her glossy red lips part for a moment, as if about to kiss.
ReplyDeleteN-no... M-Mr Lannister... you, we... shouldn't...
The petite teacher strains to free herself from the powerful embrace, to no avail. She looks up in helpless appeal.
Lannister is many things. He's powerful, demanding, intelligent, and hardworking. He's not cruel. Recognizing the young teacher's hesitance, he lets her go.
ReplyDeleteGoodbye, Miss Hasler. We all know you can do better.
The clack-clack-clacking of his polished shoes follows him out.
A fair faced young woman knocks on the door of the room and steps in.
ReplyDeleteTimmy
Miss Hasler?, She asks
ReplyDeleteTimmy
*she continues*
ReplyDeleteI am Timmy's mother I have heard that he has been a disturbance. Is this correct?
Timmy
Miss Hasler gathers her thoughts and turns to face the new visitor.
ReplyDeleteHello, Mrs Timmy-Mom. Please, come in.
Miss Hasler sits on the edge of her desk.
Timmy was very disruptive in class today, certainly, but he was punished for it. He was spanked and sent to the corner, then when he kicked me and ran for the door, I restrained him. I took the cane to him after class then sent him home.
I understand, yes, you did the right thing. It just that... *sigh* Its just that I don't know how you get Timmy to listen to you when you spank him. My husband doesn't like spanking him so he makes me. But I have so little experience...
ReplyDeleteI feel like that its almost my fault for his behavior and that I'm sorry. I believe that in fact I am long due in for a spanking.
*she looks up at Miss Hasler* could you do that for me?
Timmy
Please, Penelope, I feel that I am the source of Timmy's bad behavior in your class and I deserve to be severely punished by you. Please
ReplyDelete*a tone of urgency enter her voice*
Timmy
Miss Hasler looks seriously at the young woman.
ReplyDeleteI must say, Mrs Timmy-Mom, I don't usually discipline grown-ups...
She looks deep into the woman's eyes.
But Timmy has been very bad. And I suppose a lack of discipline at home could explain that...
Very well. I shall show you just how a spanking should be delivered. The experience will hopefully be of use to you the next time you need to spank Timmy.
And it shall also serve as a punishment for you.
Miss Hasler stands up and strides around her desk. She takes her chair, places it beside the desk and sits.
What is your name? Your first name, I mean?
Deirdre, Deirdre Sharp
ReplyDeleteTimmy
Well, Deirdre Sharp, you will come here this minute. Here, over my lap. Come along, girl.
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler pats her lap.
And you will address me as Miss Hasler, never as Penelope.
Miss Hasler frowns sternly as the young woman hesitantly approaches and stands beside her. She looks up into the woman's anxious face.
ReplyDeleteIt's no good stalling for time, Deirdre. You asked for this spanking, you need it, and you are most certainly going to get it. Now GET OVER MY KNEE!
The next moment Miss Hasler takes Mrs Sharp by the arm and pulls her down into position.
I would not tolerate such dawdling from one of my pupils, and I will not tolerate it from you, my girl.
She takes hold of the hem of Deirdre's knee-length skirt and lifts it up, revealing a shapely bottom framed by black silk knickers.
These are not regulation knickers, girl. You know very well that children should be well-presented in school - it is becoming perfectly apparent that you are a very disobedient girl indeed.
Miss Hasler smooths her hand over Deirdre's soft skin as she scolds. She smiles at the little whimper from the grown woman across her lap.
We shall just have to see if we can spank a little more obedience into you, won't we?
She smiles again at the breathless "Yes, Miss Hasler!" that comes in reply.
For a moment there is perfect silence in the classroom. And then the quietude is shattered as Miss Hasler raises her hand and brings it down upon Mrs Sharp's inviting rump. SMACK! Right in the centre of her right buttock. A second later the woman's other cheek is slapped just as hard. SMACK! Another pair of smacks quickly follow, then another pair, then another.
ReplyDeleteNo playful spanking this, the strict teacher's hand flashes down again and again and again, rippling the soft flesh of Deirdre's bottom with stinging slaps that echo round the deserted room. The yelps that come from the recipient tell Miss Hasler all she needs to know about their effect.
After several minutes of this punishing attention vibrant colour comes blushing to the surface, and the woman on the receiving end begins to squirm in genuine and understandable discomfort.
You can squirm all you like, my girl! You're not going anywhere until you've learnt your lesson!
Several dozen more smacks and Mrs Sharp begins to kick her feet in helpless distress. Yet try as she might to escape, she is held firmly in place across Miss Hasler's lap and her now-red bottom is stung relentlessly by the teacher's hard hand.
And then, five or so noisy, painful minutes later, the spanking suddenly stops. Deirdre, bottom aflame, wonders if her punishment is over. Her heart sinks, however, when Miss Hasler speaks.
ReplyDeleteAnd I think we'll be having these down...
With a disarming ease Miss Hasler takes hold of Deirdre's knickers and yanks them down, leaving them halfway down the mortified woman's thighs.
Naughty girls like you, Deirdre, deserve to be spanked on the bare. I'll teach you to wear such shameful knickers to school!
"Please, Miss Hasler! I... I won't do it again!"
You most certainly won't, if you don't want to end up across my knee again. And, just to make sure you don't forget your lesson...
Miss Hasler takes a wooden hairbrush from her desk. Deirdre gasps as she feels its cool, hard back smoothed across her hot, sore bottom, recognising her fate at once.
"Please, Miss Hasler! Please! Not the hairbrush! I'll discipline Timmy properly from now on, I promise!"
ReplyDeleteYes, you will. But you still need to be properly disciplined yourself. And for speaking out of turn you shall have twenty extras. Now, ready, girl?
"Y-yes, Miss Hasler."
Good girl.
SMACK! WHAP! SMACK! SMACK-SMACKSMACK-SMACK!
It's no use wailing! You thoroughly deserve this - I've never known such naughtiness!
SMACK! "Ooh!"
WHACK! "Oo-oh!"
SMACK! "Oww!! I-I'm sorry, Miss!"
BAD girl! So you should be sorry! This is how you spank a naughty child! And this is how I expect you to spank little Timmy from now on! Do I make myself clear?
(Mmmmmmm, nice job with this)
ReplyDeleteYes Penelope I mean Miss
ReplyDeletePlease no more no more
*Deirdre try's to pull away*
I'll be good
*sob*
You will be good, or you will find yourself in detention with your naughty offspring, bent over your desks next to each other.
ReplyDeleteNow, ten more with the hairbrush and you can get on with writing your lines.
Miss Hasler ignores the whimper that comes in response to her statement and applies the back of her heavy hairbrush ten more times, as promised, Mrs Sharp's crimson cheeks bouncing in turn under each hard swat. When the tenth swat is delivered, she calmly places the hairbrush back on her desk.
Now, STAND UP.
The woman that clambers to her feet and stands before Miss Hasler might just as well be a punished child, for the pitiful spectacle she makes. Rubbing her tear-filled eyes with one hand and her burning bottom with the other, she cannot look the strict teacher in the eye.
"I'm... I'm s-sorry, M-Miss Hasler..."
And so you should be. But your punishment is not yet over. You will take a piece of paper and a pencil from my desk and take them to a desk in the front row of the class. You will sit and write, five hundred times, "I will punish my naughty boy properly."
Work carefully. A single mistake and you will write your lines all over again, after going over my knee for another taste of the hairbrush. And you don't want that, do you?
Mrs Sharp shakes her head sadly.
Good girl. Now, off you go.
The tearful young woman shuffles off to collect her pencil and paper, her knickers still round her ankles, then takes a seat at a pupil's desk. She starts to write, still sniffing back sorrowful tears.
Deirdre gathers her composure as she writes. But deep down she knows that she should be spanked more.
ReplyDelete*she stands up and hands Miss Hasler her work*
Miss, *sniff* here is my work I hope it is good enough...
*she glances over the the cane closet*
I want to be beaten with a cane.
*there is and eerie silence in the room*
I want six time the norm. 36 licks. My bottom deserves it. And I deserve it more...
Timmy
Thank you, Deirdre.
ReplyDeleteMiss Hasler looks the lines over, then tears them up and drops the scraps of paper into the waste paper basket beside her desk. She looks at the shame-faced young woman standing before her.
Now, Deirdre, I know that you might feel that you deserve further punishment, but an important lesson you need to learn is that it is not your place to demand it. I am the one who decides, not you. And so it is with yourself and little Timmy - you must decide when and how he is punished. The lesson, my dear, is one of authority.
Now, pull your knickers up, thank me for your punishment, and go home. You have a son to discipline, and I have far more important things to attend to than your bottom. But rest assured that, should Timmy's behaviour show no sign of improvement over the coming weeks, you shall find yourself back in this classroom. And I shall punish you along with him.
Yes miss,
ReplyDeleteThank you miss
Timmy