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Soft Target: The Head's punishment

When Chrissie had to see her son's headteacher he got more than he bargained for.
Chrissie sat outside the head teacher’s office, shifting nervously. Even though she was now a parent, with a son at the school, the old memories still made her shiver. She could still remember standing outside the headmaster’s office, all those years ago, biting her lip in anticipation of the yet another harsh telling off about the latest indiscretion. But now she was here discuss her son’s behaviour. Mark was a typical teenager and, as such, visits to the head teacher were not uncommon. But this time she would be meeting the new head teacher, Mr Cranwell, for the first time. She had only seen him once, striding towards his car when she was driving past the school. He didn’t look like a teacher. He was quite muscular and tall, with short cropped hair. Since he had arrived, there had been a crack down on behaviour and, in the school newsletter, he had made it clear that he would make the school ‘a place where pupils will learn the importance of self-discipline’.

“Hello Mrs Bernham. Please come in,” the head teacher smiled and gestured toward the door of his office.

Chrissie, stood up and walked into the office with a polite “Thank you”, and sat down on the chair facing his desk. He closed the door behind her and sat down.

“I’ve asked you in because I need to talk to you about your son. He has been having a few problems recently and I am concerned that his behaviour is not up to the standard we expect at the school.”

“I see,” said Chrissie. “What kind of things has he up to then?”

“Well, nothing major,” replied Mr Cranwell. “It’s the usual, minor, things that teenagers get up to at school, but my job is to see that it stops before it becomes more serious. This is why I have asked you in to see me.”

“Well I would like to help in any way I can,” offered Chrissie, who didn’t like the sound of her son getting involved in something ‘more serious’.

“Well I’m sure you would. But I have a slightly different approach to solving the problem.”

Mr Cranwell explained his approach as Chrissie listened in disbelief. This head teacher strongly believed that a pupil’s behaviour is best controlled by parents. As a result he felt that parents should be punished for the bad behaviour of the pupils when they were in school. This way they would take a more determined attitude to take responsibility for the behaviour of their children.

“So what would be the punishment for Mark’s behaviour?” asked Chrissie. “Would it involve my husband? Do I have to do lines or a detention?” she joked.

Mr Cranwell stared at Chrissie, as if judging whether or not to she was the kind of woman to respond to his ‘approach’.

“No. It would just involve you,” he smiled. “Have you ever been punished physically by someone?”

“Punished physically? No.”

“Well the deal is simple. If you son has misbehaved, then you have to be punished. Do you understand what I mean?”

Chrissie could see what Mr Cranwell was suggesting only too well. “You naughty boy!” she thought to herself. She stood up and, leaning over and placing her hands on his desk, arched her back so that her bottom was raised. Her face was inches away from Mr Cranwell as she smiled a wicked smile.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

Mr Cranwell smiled in acknowledgement and walked around the desk. As he did, Chrissie could see the substantial bulge in his trousers. He stood behind her and surveyed her bottom. She had worn a mid-length pencil thin skirt which accentuated the curves of her bottom.

“The punishment today will be fifteen slaps. Five with the skirt, five with panties and five without. At no point should you make a sound.”

Chrissie faced the wall behind his desk and waited for the first slap. She prepared herself in anticipation of the first slap. It wasn’t the first time she had experienced this. Last year she went with her friends to a fancy dress party with her friends. They were all dressed in school uniforms, which attracted a lot of attention from the men at the party. Why, she was never quite sure, although the skirt she was wearing barely covered her white cotton panties. She had ended up in a bedroom with a couple of guys who took turns smacking her pert bottom while she took turns sucking their cocks, her favourite hobby. All good clean fun which she quite enjoyed, until one of them slapped her a little too hard, causing her to bite down on the other guy’s dick. In the melee that followed, a naked man running through the party screaming and holding his injured dick, and the open door revealing Chrissie to the partygoers, panties down and bottom bright red from the slaps, it was a night she would have preferred to have forget.

As he brought his open hand down hard on her bottom she winced slightly.

“Was that o.k.?” he asked, concerned that Chrissie might not want to continue.

“No. That was fine.” Chrissie replied with a grin. She was not used to being used like this. She liked to dominate her men. But his concern was obvious a sign of a weakness that she could turn to her advantage. She bore each slap with a twitch of her bottom until he asked her to take off her skirt. Chrissie turned to face him. As she reached behind her waist to the zip she stared straight into his eyes.

“You obviously enjoy inflicting punishment but can you take it?”

“Now come on Mrs Bernham,” said the head “you still have ten slaps to go.”

Chrissie unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, revealing her stockings but no panties. Mr Cranwell couldn’t tear his eyes away from the neatly trimmed pussy hair.

“I think I can satisfy you much better if I’m facing you.” Chrissie licked her lips, so that they glistened with saliva. She knelt down in front of him and, in a well practised move, freed his cock from his trousers and placed her lips around the tip.

“This was not part of the arrangement Mrs Bernham, I don’t... oh God!”

Now Chrissie was in control of this situation. As she expertly licked his shaft, massaging his balls, and took him into her mouth, he became helpless. He placed his hands on her head, clutching her hair tightly as she throat fucked him into submission. Chrissie could sense that his body was beginning to tense up and that it wouldn’t be long before he would come hard. So she took his cock, now covered in saliva and precum, and grasped in tightly in her hand, make his eyes open wide in pain.

“What are you doing?” gasped Mr Cranwell.

“I’m a bit happier with this arrangement, but I think that, as the head teacher, you should practice what you preach.”

“I don’t understand?” spluttered the head, his cock still held firmly in her hand.

“Well, if I have to be responsible for my boy’s behaviour then you are also responsible for your little friend down here. He is being a very naughty boy! And so you need to accept your punishment.”

“My punishment?”

Mr Cranwell couldn’t believe what was happening. This woman had turned the tables on him and now he was so desperate for her to continue the felatio he knew he would have to agree to anything she said.

“O.K., O.K., anything you want but please don’t stop!”

Chrissie stood up and led him to a comfy chair in the corner of the room. She instructed him to kneel in front of the chair and bury his head in the cushion. She then pulled down his trousers and pants. Standing back she raised her hand above her head and swiftly brought her hand down hard on his left buttock, causing the head to splutter a cry, muffled by the cushion. As she raised her hand again she looked at the red hand print on his, large round buttock. Without warning she brought it down harder this time. Again another muffled “Fucking hell!” came from the chair.

Then Chrissie grinned as another idea crossed her mind. With the head patiently waiting for the next slap, Chrissie went over to her bag.

Mr Cranwell, his head buried in the cushion was puzzled. He had got a strange kick out of being slapped, as his dick was as hard as a rock, but now she seemed to have stopped. What was she doing? Was she trying to catch him unawares? Then he felt a strange sensation, it felt like someone was pour oil between his buttocks. Was she worried about leaving a mark? What was she doing?

Suddenly he could feel something hard beginning to ease its way into his ass! He froze in horror at the realisation of what she was doing. He wanted to scream as Chrissie pushed the strap-on cock further in and began to fuck him. But the experience was making him feel even more horny than he was before and so he accepted this new punishment willingly.

Chrissie began pounding the strap-on into his ass in a steady rhythm. One hand one his thigh, the other reaching round to masturbate his now throbbing dick roughly. Chrissie held the strap-on inside him and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Are you enjoying your punishment Mr Cranwell?”

“Mmmmmm,” was all he could manage in reply.

Chrissie continued fucking him hard and yanking his cock until it was clear he couldn’t bear it any longer. She pulled him off the chair, turned him around and pushing him back down, dived between his legs and buried his twitching cock in her mouth as he exploded with a trembling orgasm.

Mr Cranwell sat in the chair. He was still trembling from the orgasm. He looked up a Chrissie, now standing. She was unbuckling the strap on and licking her lips.

“So are you satisfied with your punishment so far?” asked Chrissie.

“Oh fuck yes!” breathed the head. “What do you mean so far?”

“Well I’m not satisfied yet. And that’s your fault too! Of course your little friend can’t help,” she said, surveying his limp and lifeless cock.

“What can I do then?” asked the head.

Chrissie said nothing. She knelt on the arms on the chair and grabbed his head with both hands.

“Lick me!”

As Chrissie pulled his head forward he began to lick her pussy, the outer lips first and then plunging his tongue deep inside her. Chrissie moaned. Using the strap on had already stimulated her clitoris as it had pressed hard against her pussy. And now his tongue was probing her frantically and it was long before a hot feeling shot through her body and she thrust her pussy hard against his mouth. She stifled a cry, biting her lip as the orgasm made her whole body writhe and quiver.

As they dressed, and Chrissie placed the strap-on back in her bag, the head regained his professional manner.

“Now then Mrs. Bernham, I hope that we both understand that you will need to ensure that Mark’s behaviour improves over the next few weeks. I will be keeping a close eye on him and, if he doesn’t show an improvement I may have to call you in again.”

“Of course Mr Cranwell, I will speak to him tonight. And thank you.”

As Chrissie left the head teacher’s office she smiled in satisfaction that, if Mark’s behaviour didn’t improve, she would not have to suffer the indignity of another slap.

Mr Cranwell sat down in his chair and the rawness of his bottom on the leather chair made him wince. His secretary walked in with a cup of tea.

“Are you o.k. Mr Cranwell? Was she a difficult parent?”

“Oh no, he smiled. “She certainly has no problems with discipline.

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 © This story is the property of Kochanka Tulipan.

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