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Making a good girl of me

Mr Dickinson reckoned he was going to make me a good girl, and he made me bad.

This morning I was called into the Headmasters office, at my son’s school.

I didn’t know the reason, and started to get those nervous feelings that reminded me so much of the times I waited outside the heads office for a punishment years ago.


Anyway it inspired the following story. I hope you enjoy.


I was 16 years old. I thought I knew everything, I was no doubt a very naughty teenager, to have as a daughter, but my parents cared about themselves too much, to discipline me.

Half the time they didn’t know where I was or whom I was with.

I was still at school, though I barely, attended.

I guess schools are stricter about truancy nowadays, but I hardly ever went, and normally corrupted someone else into bunking off with me.

Today, I was going to school for a change, exam time was looming and I didn’t want to fail everything.

I was quite a pretty teenager, not flawless like some, and I wore make-up to school, much to the teacher’s annoyance.

This very morning after Drama, I was called to the Headmasters office.

His name was Mr Dickinson, and he was a new age type of guy, he played songs in assembly hoping to inspire something great in some of us. I remember it almost got to me one day when he played Scorpions “Wind of Change” but it never quite worked on me.


So anyway, I waited outside Mr Dickinson’s office. Some friends walked past, and gave me sympathetic smiles, with questioning looks, asking silently what I was about to be punished for.

I was a cheeky bugger, actually renowned for it, but still I was a bit afraid, I never took the whole shouting thing well, normally I burst into tears, even now.

I’d much rather suffer a physical blow than an emotional one they don’t last quite as long.


“Mr Dickinson will see you now” said his admin assistant as she left the office, presumably for her lunch break.


I entered his office, immediately my defences were up. My arms folded with my head down nonchalantly.

I stood in front of his desk, it felt like ages, I couldn’t feel my legs, and started to shift on the spot, almost as if to reassure myself I still could.


“Do you know why I have sent for you Natasha?” he said in his firm tone


“No sir” I stated defiantly


“Are you sure Natasha?” he went on


If he was expecting me to own up to something off my own back, he didn’t know me very well.

He went on to tell me that repeated absences from school were totally unacceptable, and I went on nodding at regular intervals, so that he would think I was listening.

His voice was raised, and as he continued to rant at me, genuine tears formed in my eyes, and began to slide down my cheeks, bringing mascara with them.


His tone softened.

“You know you’re a very pretty girl and you’d look much prettier without make-up on” he said, passing me a tissue.

I didn’t know what to say in response, but I felt better that he was being kind, and that the rant appeared to be over.

“What are we going to do with you?” he asked resigned to that fact that shouting wasn’t going to do anything other than make me cry.

“I don’t know Sir” I smiled weakly and hopefully.

“I still need to punish you! You know that don’t you!” he didn’t ask, but stated.


Then he got up from his desk and removed a long wooden ruler from the top of his filing cabinet, my legs turned to jelly instantly, and I felt like almost laughing, though I was confused.

Caning went out a long time ago, I thought!

Yes I’d been hit with a cane at the convent I went to on the Isle of Wight, as a young child, but this was high school, and this was 1993

“Please stand up and bend over my desk Natasha,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound like him at all.

I did as I was asked, I didn’t feel confident enough to argue.

Surely, this happened all the time? “It” must have done.


I got up and bent over his desk.

He moved behind me and pulled up my skirt, I had black tights on underneath but they ‘weren’t’ the very thick kind and I suspected he could see my white knickers through them.

All of a sudden he was grasping at the waistband of my tights and pulling them down.

The panic set in, and I started to protest.


“Be a good girl, and keep still for me, and your punishment will be short.” He said, “still” in that strange tone.

I was quite innocent sexually and it didn’t occur to me at all that he might be getting some sort of pleasure from this.


So here I was bent over his desk, my tights around my ankles, resting on top of my shoes, my skirt hooked up and my plain white knickers on show for the headmaster to see.

Without warning he spanked my ass with that long ruler, and I instantly cried out,

He hit again, not immediately, he paused for a few seconds.

Whack whack whack

Three sharp quick blows.


“You are such a naughty girl and you will learn to respect the rules.” He said pleasantly?

“Yes sir,” was all I could say.

He spanked me some more, and though I’m no expert on spanking, I could have sworn he was getting a bit frenzied, excited by the whole thing.

He pulled my knickers aside to examine my ass, presumably, to check how red it was.

Then slowly he parted my legs, and he started to rub the ruler between my thighs.


“Do you have a boyfriend Natasha? He asked

“Yes Sir” I answered

“And does he touch you between your legs?”

“Sometimes” I said.

Which was in fact a lie, I was too scared to let my boyfriend Simon touch me there, and all my friends were talking about how their boyfriends fingered them, I was frigid I guess, and too afraid to admit it, even to Mr Dickinson.

He went over to the door and locked it.

I was shaking by now, and confused as to what I should do now to get myself out of this situation before it got any worse.

I couldn’t think quickly enough, and before I had a chance to react, he was back behind me.

He was removing my knickers now, slowly stroking my leg as my knickers made their downward journey.


“You’re very beautiful” he said, as he looked over the naked half of my body.

“You know you shouldn’t let your boyfriend touch you there” he said and placed his fingers on my pussy lips.


“I am sorry Sir. I lied.”

“ My boyfriend doesn’t really touch me there, I am too afraid to let him”


Mr Dickinson didn’t say anything at all to this revelation, but his breathing was heavy and the prospect of being the first to touch, and violate my virgin pussy was becoming too much for him.

He turned me around and pushed me back onto his desk,

“I’m going to show you how nice it feels to be touched there” he said placing his hands on me ‘there’ again.


I was too shocked to speak.

He removed my shoes, my tights, and my knickers and spread my legs. He got himself a chair and sat between my legs, his face right up against my pussy.

I had never even, shown Simon my pussy and I felt embarrassed being on display like this.

His fingers started slowly, like he was touching me to check my ripeness, using two hands he opened my pussy lips and examined me.

Slowly he prodded me with one finger, just trying to squeeze it inside my tightness,

It felt funny and a little uncomfortable.

“I’ll make a good girl of you yet” he said as he pushed his finger in further, he met resistance and winced as he   pushed past it, tearing my hymen, and breaking into me like no other before now.

He groaned loudly as he pushed in deeper, his large finger stretching me,

“You’re so tight” he said shakily, still watching my pussy as his finger began thrusting in and out, becoming rough, fast, and frenzied. The whole time I had my face next to a picture of his wife and children.


“You’re hurting me Sir” I whispered, almost afraid


He didn’t listen to me at all, he hushed me and continued to work on my pussy, he removed his finger and sucked it into his mouth, pleased with the taste of me, he dipped his finger back in for more.

Then his mouth found me, and he guzzled me, French kissed me down there.

It started to feel okay, well actually it started to feel quite nice, and as my pussy started producing it’s own juices and started to swell up.

I felt like I didn’t want him to stop at all.

I spread my legs wider for him and begged

“Please Sir, I want to be a good girl, please don’t stop.”

With that he stopped and picked up the brown wooden ruler again.

I was very disappointed as that ‘hadn’t’ been what I meant at all.


He spanked my bare pussy with it.

As it made contact with my clitoris it made me jump, I was rather sensitive there now, it felt painful but also I enjoyed it.


“You’re going to be a good girl aren’t you Natasha?” he said excitedly

“Yessss” I moaned


Then he inserted the ruler into my tight pussy, he kept on going deeper and deeper with it.

I squirmed and tried to move myself away from it.

He fucked me with it so hard I thought he’d do some damage to me.

In and out, it’s straight edges catching on me, hurting me.

His face was a picture of pleasure, wickedness, and lust.


“Please stop” I cried,


“Just a few moments ago, you liked it you horny little bitch!” he snapped at me, and he was right, just now when he had been French kissing my pussy I hadn’t been complaining at all.

His thumb pressed hard on my clit, he rolled it around as he continued to violate me. I felt like I was going to wet myself, I thought, I’ll be humiliated, and he’ll really punish me, but I didn’t wet myself, and the feeling that engulfed me, brought juices pouring from me, was fantastic, like nothing I had felt before

I was so confused, and not in a position to argue now.


Leaving me led there with a long ruler in my pussy he went to his desk drawer and got out a camera.

He returned between my legs and began taking pictures of me.

After taking the first shot, he took the ruler out of me, and took a picture of my wide open pussy, he even pushed some fingers inside me for one shot.

He glanced at the clock before pulling his own trousers down and revealing his rock hard cock.

Then with one smooth movement he rammed it into me, his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t cry out.

“Ohhh Natasha, you’re so very wet” he moaned as he withdrew his cock, and plunged back into me.

His cock was bruising my cervix and hurting me with its enthusiasm.

He glanced at the clock again, and then really went for it, bucking and groaning, and banging me until ramming it in one last time and groaning as he filled my small pussy with his cum.


Putting his camera away, he commented that he wouldn’t expect me to tell anyone about this, as he had pictures of me enjoying it.

He ordered me to quickly get dressed and then just before I left he told me that for assembly on Friday, I was to leave my knickers off and sit with my legs crossed, he said he would see to it that I was sitting in the front row.

When I left his office, I didn’t go back to class. I didn’t want to be a good girl after all.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Written by Smiler77 All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author, except in the case of brief extracts in critical reviews and articles.

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