“Well Miss Helm? I asked you why you spanked my son?”
I knew it was wrong. I teach music, to the sixth formers, a nice enough group although they find it all too easy to lose concentration but then if music wasn’t your thing then that is almost expected. Jason is one of the naughtier boys. He is newish to the school having joined at sixth form level and had not gone through the lower school. Jason is 16 years’ old and impish, quick to lose concentration and quick to be flippant. Of course he deserved to be spanked, long and hard. Unfortunately though the school had got rid of corporal punishment two years ago and now there is an extensive use of detention. One hour or two hour detentions are common. Some even have to spend the whole of Saturday at the school in weekend detention. So far as anything else is concerned the rules were clear. We can smack on the bottom but cannot remove any clothes, and three smacks is the maximum and intended to cause embarrassment to the student rather than pain.
I still quaked as I said politely, “Laura, please call me Laura.”
Jason’s Mum snapped, “That’s part of the problem young lady. Too many of the students fancy you.”
I have seen a few of the boys ogle me but I thought that was normal. “Only a couple of the boys I’m sure.”
Jason’s Mum snapped again, “I don’t think so. You will find all the boys and most of the girls have a crush on you, what with your short skirts and tight skimpy tops. This is a school not a Saturday night dance. Anyway, what I do want is an answer Miss Helm.”
I remembered it so well. It was my turn to hold detention yesterday. We teachers can decide where to hold it and what to get the students to do. Some teachers have all the students standing at their desks with their hands on their heads and just have them doing nothing, emphasising they were simply wasting time at detention. I prefer to keep them active so always hold my detentions in the gym. I insist that all the students in detention have to wear their gym gear. The girl’s wear white ankle socks, white knickers, and a white gym skirt that is only just longer than the knickers, then a standard bra and vest top. The boys also wear white ankle socks, blue or black pants, white gym shorts and a vest top.
I am 28 years old, and look after my body, am slim, have a good figure, long blond hair, firm breasts, a flat stomach that looks great when I wear navel showing tops, and terrific legs. When I take detention I enjoy dressing like the girls in gym gear. My blond hair flows half way down my back and I know I look sexy. Not for the students mind you but for myself. I love the way I look.
Jason had misbehaved during detention. When I got all the students to touch their toes, and I had joined them and bent over as well, he had come up behind me put his thumb to his nose and wriggled his fingers which I saw upside down as I touched my toes. I saw him smile and then turning as though it was a mistake his hand brushed my bottom, as though smacking me. Me, the teacher. So I stood up, glaring at him, grabbed his arm and as he looked so surprised spun him around pulled my arm back and smacked him as hard as I could on his bottom, at least his shorts covered bottom. Had I stopped there I suppose it would have been ok. But I didn’t. He looked at me and smirked, a cheeky grin. I was incensed, really annoyed that he was questioning my authority as the others in detention watched him, and of course they were watching me, seeing what I would do.
I looked around at all the teenage faces as they watched, wide eyed, as Jason stood up to me. My teacher training came out just then, the need to maintain control when you are the only adult in the room and two dozen teenagers are looking for a crack in the stern façade. Well I certainly didn’t feel that strong but I had been here before, keeping the veneer of strength, and when Jason was so rude I snapped at him, “How dare you Jason,” so loudly everyone stopped still and even Jason looked wide eyed and knew he had overstepped the mark.
I snapped, “I will not have this,” and when I took him by the arm he didn’t resist but allowed me to walk him to a chair and when I sat down he stood still whilst I put my thumbs inside the elastic waistband of his shorts and yanked them down, followed immediately by his pants. I didn’t look at the faces of the other students but heard several gasps as I took Jason’s arm and pulled him down across my lap. My skirt had ridden right up I felt his penis on my bare thigh as he landed across my lap pressing down before his hands hit the floor and he balanced himself. There was no resistance, Jason lay still although was tense as my hand rubbed his bare bottom. I knew it was against the rules but I was so riled and could not stop myself. How dare he question me like that, make fun of me. Well I’ll make him look silly I thought as I raised my hand, took a deep breath, and brought my hand down hard on the bare right bottom cheek of the 16 year old. Once I had landed the first spank the second soon followed and then the next and the next, spanking the boy on alternate bottom cheeks as I turned his bare bottom red and he squirmed around on my lap, his penis rubbing my thigh as his bottom bounced as my hand spanked harder and harder.
I lost myself in the spanking, thinking how much Jason deserved his punishment, but forgetting so many things. Like the fact it was against the rules, and all the other students in detention were watching. I looked down and saw how red Jason’s bottom was and thought maybe I was spanking him for too long. I shook myself and knew I had to stop spanking the 16 year old. Even so I landed another dozen hard spanks before I said sternly, “Right Jason, get up and make sure you never do that again. I’m a teacher you know.”
Jason got up rubbing his bottom and I almost giggled as I watched his penis bounce up and down as he rubbed his bottom, and I remember thinking just how sore his bottom must be. I did think though he actually had an erection and put that down to being across my bare lap, nothing more. Still, I did giggle later on thinking how being spanked gave him an erection.
An hour later I was home, in the bath, soaking myself, a glass of wine in my hand, thinking about the bare bottom that I made bounce as it was across my lap. I was now deep in thought. What I did was discipline a 16 year old boy, yes one who had been very naughty, clearly deserved to be punished, and certainly learned his lesson, but I knew I shouldn’t have done it, and would be likely to have to pay. I wasn’t sure how but I knew I would have to pay.
It didn’t take long as today I am facing Jason’s Mum, his very angry Mum, and she is asking me all these difficult to answer questions, finally asking, “Are you allowed to spank the students Miss Helm?” That was the hard question. I knew I would have to answer truthfully and admit I was wrong and had broken the rules. At least I would have done if Mrs Fellows, the Headmistress, didn’t interject.
“I must apologise for Miss Helm but I now understand what has to be done.”
Jason’s Mum asked, “You mean you shall deal with her Headmistress?”
“Yes, I will deal with her properly,” then after a moment added, “In fact I will deal with her appropriately.”
Jason’s Mum seemed satisfied. She nodded her head, turned, and left the room.
I turned to the Headmistress and said in a relieved tone, “Thank you so much Headmistress, I was really worried the way she went on, but you understand,” and after a moment added, “Don’t you?”
The Headmistress glared at me. “You have misunderstood Laura.” She looked me up and down with a scowl and asked, “Are taking another detention today Laura?”
I knew why she asked. Yes I was taking another detention and was again wearing my gym kit, short minute mini skirt and all and the students were all getting changed to spend their detention at the gym. “Yes I am Mrs Fellows,” I answered.
The Headmistress went to her desk, lifted the phone, and called the staff room asking, “Ah Julia, are you able to take detention, Laura and I need to discuss an issue we have, oh and can you ask Mrs Dean to join us in my Study.”
A few minutes later Mrs Dean entered the Study and Mrs Fellows explained how I had spanked Jason, his Mum had complained, and she had said she would give me the appropriate punishment. I was sure that wasn’t going to mean a spanking, after all I am a teacher.
Mrs Dean said almost wistfully, “Those were the days Headmistress, when the junior teachers were taught how to be good teachers.”
Mrs Fellows smiled and said, “Just what I was thinking.” She turned to me and explained, “When Mrs Dean and I first started teaching the junior teachers were liable to corporal punishment, just like the students.”
I gasped, and whispered, “Really?” I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Not all schools you understand, but we both started in one of the more, shall we say, challenging teaching environments, and corporal punishment was almost the only deterrent we had. The senior staff decided the same should apply to the junior teachers and quite frankly we had such trouble getting jobs ourselves that we agreed. Of course it was put to us that in time we would be the ones to dispense discipline, but times changed, unfortunately. So, maybe today that should change, in view of what you have done and what I promised Jason’s Mum.”
“I don’t understand Headmistress? How does all that apply to me?”
“Easy Laura. Consider yourself in detention for the next two hours, to be held by me and Mrs Dean, your direct superior. You will do whatever time wasting task we set you. First, face the wall with your hands on your head.”
“No way,” I said indignantly. My short temper was getting the better of me. I knew why the Headmistress wanted me to stand facing the wall. I use the naughty spot unsparingly in class after all. It helps calm down unruly and maybe hyper students and I know that is why I am being sent there. To calm me down and of course to put me in my place. Still I am 28 years old, so I argued, “I don’t want to Headmistress, it’s just not right.”
Mrs Dean said sternly, “Confrontational eh, well I think some lines first Mrs Fellows.”
The Headmistress agreed. “Yes. Laura please sit at the desk and I will get some paper and a pen.”
I don’t think lines are any more ‘Adult,’ but I am beginning to realise I wasn’t getting anywhere by arguing and maybe a few lines and a bit of time on the naughty spot will satisfy the two of them. I huffed as I go over to the desk and sit down. Mrs Fellows put paper and a pen on the desk in front of me.
Mrs Fellows instructed, “You will write, ‘I need my legs smacked,’ twenty times.”
I gasped, looked up, and was about to explode just as Mrs Dean put a hairbrush on the desk close to me. A wooden backed paddle brush, whilst giving me a glare. I think quickly. Smacked legs are better than a spanking with that thing. I decided to go for that although had a feeling I was being drawn in slowly and maybe it won’t just be my legs that are smacked. Anyway, I picked up the pen and started to write my lines, suddenly focussing on minimising and punishment I might have coming.
“Good girl,” Mrs Dean said.
“Yes, some obedience at last,” the Headmistress replied.
I felt so small as I focussed on the piece of paper and line after line and nothing like my 28 years. I kept checking I didn’t make any spelling mistakes and counted the lines to make sure I wrote exactly twenty, no doubt worrying just as the students did when they do lines and knowing the extra punishment they will suffer if they miss count or miss spell. When I was done I looked up and said, “I’m done.” As I said that I realised I was actually behaving more like a student than a teacher, or maybe it was more accurate to say the headmistress and Mrs Dean were treating me like a student. I shuffled around on the chair as I looked at the hairbrush and when I looked back up a smiling Headmistress saw me glance at the hairbrush. I didn’t like much the smile as I shuffled again on the chair.
Of course in my haste I had forgotten a rule in detention. Never speak until spoken to. Mrs Dean snapped, “Naughty girl, you will only speak when spoken to in detention. You know the rules. You put your hand up until asked to speak. Now do twenty more lines and get it right this time.”
I blushed, so annoyed, so wanting to say how I felt about them, but knew if I did they will do far worse to me. Far far worse. I could see them getting me sacked and I didn’t want that.”
I started doing the extra lines, one after the other checking the number of lines again. This time after another twenty lines I put my hand up. I watched for a reaction but they kept talking to each other. My arm started to ache before Mrs Fellows turned to me and asked, “Yes Laura?”
I put my arm down rubbing above my elbow and said, “I’ve finished Headmistress.”
Mrs Dean came and picked up the paper and counted the lines. I breathed deeply suddenly hoping I hadn’t made any mistakes whilst at the same time feeling somehow aroused, being controlled by two older women, both in positions of authority over me. A really strange feeling and I even wondered for a moment if my pussy was as damp as I thought it was but I was too scared to feel between my legs.
“She has done them correctly Headmistress,” Mrs Dean announced.
“Good,” Mrs Fellows replied as she went over to a chair and sat down.
“Come over here Laura,” she commanded.
Right then I would most certainly have preferred the naughty spot than going over to Mrs Fellows but as I went over to her I saw Mrs Dean smirking, her lips pursed, smile lines flowing from her eyes, certainly a woman enjoying herself.
“So Laura, you spanked Jason and so I am wondering whether I should spank you. What’s your opinion on that?” Mrs Fellows smirked as she finished her question.
That was cruel I thought. I am well known in the staffroom for having strong opinions. On just about everything. I will often have two or three teachers arguing the other way and even then sometimes I win them over. My big problem though is I hate backing down and admitting I am wrong, really hate it. So yes, I have a really strong opinion about being spanked. The trouble is I was talking to my boss, and her boss. So, what opinion should I have about this? It had been a long time daydream of mine to be spanked, but somehow as part of lovemaking, so being disciplined was not how I had pictured it. After all it was a dream I used quite often when masturbating. I had never told anyone about this secret desire. I wasn’t even sure it was a real desire, although my orgasms were always so much more erotically satisfying when I picture myself being spanked as I masturbate. I could not admit that fantasy though so I tried to tone my response right down, as uncharacteristic of me that might be.
“Well headmistress, I don’t think it’s fair at all if I’m the only teacher that gets disciplined.”
Mrs Fellows and Mrs Dean looked at each other, and then Mrs Fellows said, “I don’t like your tone young lady, you will not snap at us like that.”
That shook me as I thought I was being respectful. “Sorry Headmistress,” I said quickly, looking at the floor.
Mrs Fellows sighed, as though in despair, and said, “OK then, that’s better.” After a moment she added, “You make a good point though, about teachers being disciplined. That will make an excellent discussion at the next staff meeting. I will schedule a staff meeting and you can start the discussion.”
I gasped. Surely not. That will mean me telling everyone I was disciplined. Where would that lead to?
Mrs Fellows saw my quandary and ordered, “Let’s get your legs smacked first. I think you should remove your knickers.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to shout out my objection, my very strong objection. I looked at Mrs Fellows and she had on her well known, ‘Argue at your peril,’ look. My resolve collapsed as again I knew she was reeling me in, inch by inch, as I step out of my knickers and give them to the outstretched hand of Mrs Dean.
“Good girl,” Mrs Fellows said as she took my arm and made me stand inches from her. She rubbed the back of my leg, from just above the knee to the sit spot where my thigh met my bottom cheek, the last two rubs going halfway up my bottom. My pussy quivered as her hand pressed down on my bottom cheek, a firm hand. She lifted her hand away and a second later it was brought down hard on the back of my leg. The loud smacking sound competed with my gasp. The first time I have been hit in all my life. My parents never smacked me, deciding adult discussion was better than a beating. Were they right? I don’t know. I may not have been so self-opinionated if they had smacked me when I argued with them. It had taken me a long time to learn other people had views as well but as I was always allowed to just argue, even rudely, without any retribution, it took me a long time as an adult to learn when to accept other people’s views.
I gasped with each smack as Mrs Fellows smacked first my left leg several times which stung more and more with each smack, before moving on to my right leg which gave a short respite before the stinging again increased in intensity as smack after smack bit in to the back of my leg.