The ultimate chastisement of Mandy Bait
Miss Williams was an absolute bitch! All I did was to flick an ink pellet across the classroom at Cynthia Carter, (and she’s a horror, so she deserved it) and I got saddled with an hours after school detention. To make matters worse, it was the second time that week. I’d been nabbed two days before by the biology master for drawing slightly rude sketches in Niomi Pearson’s exercise book. Really, it was only done for fun. I didn’t really want to get her into trouble. How was I to know that she would be taking it home with her as part of her homework, and that her stupid maiden aunt would pick it up and see the pictures. Anyway, Niomi blabbed, and as my artistic endeavours are pretty well known around the classroom, it didn’t take Mr Hendry long to pinpoint me, once auntie had rung up the school to complain. I was hauled before Mr Hobbs the beak and given a real dressing down, plus detention. And now here I was again, stuck in form 6b clearing up, when I could be out and about chatting up the boys from Saint Dominie’s down the road. I managed to get the classroom in ship shape fashion in double quick time. Deposited the books neatly on Miss’s desk, and as she’d left her papers scattered around I thought I’d better make a good impression and tidy her rubbish up as well. I was about to place them into her drawer and I couldn’t help but see the magazine she had in there.
Holy cow! I’d never seen pictures like it before. They showed a very pretty blonde of about seventeen (the same age as myself) getting her lovely round bum caned, and with all the naughty bits that I like drawing so much showing!
Well, I got a bit carried away looking at those fab pictures, and to be truthful I had a little play with myself. In as much as I didn’t hear the door open and someone enter the classroom!
“MANDY BAIT! What on earth do you think you are doing!”
Miss descended on me like a ton of bricks. To say she was furious is an understatement. She went positively mad, and before I knew what was happening she was hauling me up the stairs to Sir’s study. Somehow in the fracas she had failed to notice that the magazine I was frigging myself over was her own! Stupid cow!
So, for the second time that week I stood before Mr Hobbs, and you can guess his reaction, first after the incident of the drawings and now being caught looking at sexy pictures, and masturbating as he put it.
He wouldn’t even give me a chance to explain. Expulsion was threatened, and then turning to Miss he asked whether she had any suggestions to make, She fixed me with an icy look.
“A caning is what this girl needs,” she said. Sir dithered at first, explaining that no girl had received corporal punishment at the school for over five years. But this appeared to be an exceptional case, and warranted such a procedure!
I froze when he said that I would be getting six strokes, and then he ordered me to take everything off, except my shirt. Whilst Miss assisted in my humiliation, Sir took from his desk draw the most ominous thin whippy cane and swished it through the air a few times I thought thank God that I’m going to be allowed to keep my knickers on, but even those were denied me!
“Get those down Miss Williams” he ordered, and instantly they were around my ankles. And so my punishment commenced! Sir made me count each searing stroke, and as I sobbed out the count as each landed I could feel my poor bott stinging and blazing like a furnace.
It was on the fifth that I made the error, in my panic I assure you, of calling him a bastard! That did it. Three more painful strokes were immediately added to the punishment. At last it was over and I tenderly felt the ridges on my fiery behind.
“Get your knickers up and get back to your classroom,” he commanded. I was only too glad to go. As I bundled my clothes up and was about to leave, Sir had a thought and gave me a chance at last to speak.
“By the way Bait, where did you get the magazine from. Surely no newsagent would sell a schoolgirl this type of material?”
My chance had come! I pointed an accusing, finger at Miss.
“In that cow’s drawer…. That’s where I got it!”
Sir appeared to be taken aback, and Miss’s face went ashen!
“Enough of that,” he barked. “Get along back to the classroom …
AT ONCE!” And as I was about to leave, followed by Miss, Sir added.
“And Miss Williams … I would be obliged if you will remain.”
Now I don’t know exactly what happened in his study during the following half hour. You and I can only imagine. In any case I was too busy soothing my scorching bum! But I was quite stunned when the door opened and Miss came into the classroom minus skirt and panties and decidedly, very pink bummed! And a very different Miss she was too to the one I left in Sir’s study, a Miss who was now very regretful that she had been the instigator of my punishment. She gently turned me round to view my tender bottom, and in view of the type of magazine she had had in, her desk draw, I knew that she liked what she saw. Her hands caressed me, and I took a chance and whispered that, “Please Miss, I’d like to look at your bott as well!” The rest of that detention hour was just too beautiful for words. My adorable Miss taught me so many new and lovely things to enjoy.
All this happened a few months ago. Since then I have spent many, many after school hours on detention. No, I’ve never had to go upstairs to Sir’s study since. There’s been no need to. But Miss is always kind enough to stay behind with me to keep me company … If you know what I mean!
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