From the Top Shelf - Painful Protest, part 3

It's finally time for the third installment of this lovely story by Andrew Grantham. First Hannah, then Gemma had been caned for participating in a public protest. Now it's Abbey's turn.

Poor Abbey, more forlorn at the extra waiting, wanted the whole thing over and done with. It was, therefore, with some relief when she eventually adopted the require submissive position. The redhead expected Hannah to perform the knicker lowering ceremony. Dr Woodcock, however, had different ideas.

He took the cane from Mr Smith, held it by its tip, hooked the handle in the waistband of the girl's skimpy briefs and sharply yanked them down. He then passed the rod back to the chastiser.

Abbey's bottom was quite sumptuous - sinful, almost. Firm-fleshed and flawless, the cheeks rose splendidly either side of a long deep valley. The red-haired girl felt the cane being placed across the dead centre of her cheeks as Michael Smith measured up the distance. The next thing she felt was that implement slashing a line of fire across her presented cheeks. She forced herself not to squeal, although it was not easy.

Hiss!

Abbey closed her eyes as if blackness could somehow halt the descent of the overworked stick. This time she could not maintain her silence and gave out a cry. Her bottom began to contort with the sizzling sting.

Hiss!

The third stroke was hot on the heels of the second one. Abbey yelped as another infliction of fire engulfed her twin domes.

The two recently punished girls watched their friend's rotating posterior. The horizontal marks looked very angry against the natural pallor of her skin.

Mr Smith wasted no more time.

Crack!

"Yeeeeowwwww!"

The redhead's hips swung frantically and her thighs opened up. Peeping clusters of red curls could be seen by the watchers.

Crack!

The girl emitted a loud bellow and her performance increased in obscenity. It was some time before the wild oscillations began to slow.

Mr Smith then raised the quivering cane and scythed it down onto the tramline-covered bum-cheeks.

A shrill cry rang out as the stick, this time, struck the hemispheres at an angle so as to create the effect of a five bar gate. The earlier hurt was thus reawakened, adding considerably to the fresh anguish engulfing Abbey's behind.

When it was all over, and the tearful girls had been dismissed, Mr Smith drove out of Finch Hall Academy and headed for the council refuse tip. There he opened the boot of his car and flung away the protest placard he had taken to the demonstration against the new road.

Fortunately for him, he reflected, he had been at the other end of the road where there had been no disruptive behaviour. Still it wouldn't do for the girls he had just caned to discover that he had been just as keen a protester as they were!

What a naughty headmaster. He really does deserve a taste of his own medicine. Perhaps Mr Smith would be happy to oblige.