How many more? And then what's he going to use on my poor bottom ?

No fooling Grandfather

 

Cynthia loved staying with her grandfather. He was always kind, and full of fun and an encyclopedia of fascinating experiences. He was, however, very strict. So when he found Cynthia gazing at an elaborate wall hanging shortly before supper, he asked in passing whether she had completed her homework. Cynthia knew there was no point in lying: she hadn't even touched her assignment and if her grandfather thought she was dissembling, he'd be sure to ask to see it. Feeling the butterflies gathering in her stomach, Cynthia admitted that she hadn't done a stroke of work.

"Well, in that case my girl, I think a few strokes are called for, eh? Up to the Day Room and prepare yourself. I'll be there in a moment with you-know-what."

Cynthia did indeed know. He'd was going to fetch that awful, heavy hairbrush.

The butterflies were in full flight as she made her way up to the room where the punishments always took place. As she heard her grandafher's footsteps on the stairs, she bent over the chair and took up the position with which she was so familiar. She knew that if she wasn't ready when he came in to the room, she'd get extras. She braced herself for the six swats she knew she'd get. Each one stung like a hundred bees, but she stayed in place until the last stroke thwacked against her left cheek.

"All right, Cynthia. You can get up. Took that bravely, my gal. Jolly good. Now, stand there and hold the brush for five minutes, and then go and get ready for dinner. Don't be late, or you'll find yourself up here again." He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"My God!", Cynthia muttered to herself as she looked at the damage in the mirror, smearing on a liberal coating of Arnica cream. "I'll never be able to sit still at the table, and he hates me fidgeting. Oh Lord, please don't let him send me up to the Day Room again tonight."

But the old boy was in affable form and recounted some hilarious tales of his experiences abroad. So much so that Cynthia almost forgot her blazing bottom until her grandfather told her it was bedtime and gave her backside a good-natured slap as she kissed him goodnight.

 

 

Next illustrated story HERE

If you enjoy these short stories, try Tom Simple's full-length Bexhill School books here or his spanking/adventure/romance here