by Jen McCormick
Naughty Teachers Pet
The first bell rang, and the students filed into the classroom. They came in a tide of bodies, all college girls dressed in the same uniform; the same stockings, the same plaid skirt, the same tie and white blouse, the same monogram sweater. They were all the same, even down to the walk.
That was the first thing that Jen McCormick hated about teaching at St. Mary of the Blessed Veil academy for college-age women. All the students were the same. Most of them even walked the same. And it was all because they were taught from an early age not to be different from each other, that everything should be uniform. Jen knew; she was once a student here.
And she could remember all the canings and paddlings that she had earned too. She had been rather rebellious as a student. But unlike all the other students, she had had a reason for getting so many punishments, a reason for attending the headmistress’ office almost daily.
She enjoyed the punishments.
At the time, she had always believed herself to be strange. Like she were some sort of freak or something. In fact, she knew it. She would feel the urge, the need to be punished, to be disciplined. And yet, afterward, she felt nothing but a deep sense of shame. She knew that she was a freak for having such desires.
It was only after graduation that she had learned that other people in the world were the same way. Indeed, she had gone to clubs, events, conventions, all full of people who loved to spank or be spanked, to dominate or be dominated.
That was when she had found the truth about herself. She had learned that no matter how much pleasure she derived from being punished, it would never measure to the ecstasy of dominating another. Especially women.
Then, low and behold, she found herself back here, right where she had started. Only now, she was the teacher.
Unfortunately, a number of girls tended to forget that little fact, simply because of Jen’s age. Most of the girls had probably never had a teacher who was only a few years older than themselves. As a result, several of the students in her class had acted out, tried to test her as a teacher. What they had found was a disciplinarian, and most had gone home with very sore bottoms within the first week of her arriving at the academy.
Obviously, she was not the most popular teacher at the academy.
Right now she was trying to ignore the grumbles as all the pretty young things strolled into her classroom. All of them were upper class students; 18 to 19 year old college freshmen, girls who ruled the school; girls who were about to enter the convent, and had decided that they were adults, so they didn’t take shit from anyone. In other words, they tried their best every morning to turn Jen’s life into a festering pile of crap. Oh goody.
The peal of the second bell pealed in the classroom, and Jen walked over and shut the door. The looks on the girl’s faces as they glared at her from their desks told her exactly what kind of day it was going to be.
“All right class,” she started as she walked over to her desk. “Did everyone do their homework from last week?”
Murmured yes noes and maybes wafted in her direction. Yeah, she had thought not.
“Okay then. I will collect it at the end of class. Will everyone please take out their books and turn to page five-oh-three, and we will begin.”
The ruffled sound of pages flipping.
All right, so who to begin reading. Jen scanned across the girls sitting in the desks, trying to find one of them who would do as instructed without too much backtalk. Hmm.
“Carmen, would you be so kind as to start reading at the top of the page?”
Thankfully, Carmen said okay with only the slightest roll of the eyes. It really was too early for a punishment. Jen hadn’t even had her coffee yet.
Which was probably why she didn’t hear the door creak open, or why she only noticed the girl sneaking along the wall when she was already halfway to her seat. Who was that girl? Jen had never had her in class before. “Um, excuse me?” she called, a little irritably. She hated having her class interrupted. “May I help you.”
The girl turned around. The first thing that Jen noticed was how pretty she was. No, not pretty, beautiful. Smooth, creamy cinnamon skin, dark midnight hair cascading to her shoulders. Her eyes were the brown of an autumn morning, an October breeze, her lips full and pouty. And beneath the white blouse and plaid skirt, Jen just knew that she had a body to die for. Just the glimpse of her thighs between cotton stockings and the hem of her skirt was gorgeous.
Jen had to have her.
“Um, yeah.” the girl started. She had her eyes slightly downcast in that demure, innocent look that Jen had seen on the faces of so many lovers. She could feel herself getting moist. “Yes, my name is Diana. I’m new, I’m supposed to be in this class.” she held up a piece of paper in a delicate hand that nearly shook with nerves. “Its right here on my schedule.”
Jen straightened herself and walked her most reagal walk over to Diana. She knew just how intimidating she could be when she wanted to, and right now she wanted to. She knew the effect of her own beauty, the delicious curve of her breasts beneath her silky blouse, the pert curve of her behind in her black pants. And the click of her high heels upon the hardwood floor.
She made a show of taking her time, and even more so of looking over the schedule. These sort of things had and effect on submissives.
When she spoke, she knew the girl was hers. “See me after school.”
All the girls in the class. “Oooooohhh.”
They knew what was coming.
Jen smiled when there came a timid knock at her classroom door. She glanced over herself one last time, checking the look that she had so carefully crafted; she had already removed her bra, and left the top two buttons of her blouse undone; she wanted just the right amount of cleavage showing. Her long dark hair had been pulled back into a stern bun, but she had left one tress to hang free in her face. She had reapplied her lipstick too, a deep shade of crimson that made her look absolutely predatory.
She had been waiting for this all day.
Jen waited until the second knock, then withdrew something from the top drawer of her desk. The third knock came, and she called out in a lilting voice, “Come in.”
Diana came in, then stood framed in the doorway for a moment, obviously hesitant to enter. She looked so cute, so perfect and beautiful, standing there, almost quivering. Jen could recall that feeling with painful awareness; the mixed emotion, the anxiety, the anticipation. And yes, the excitement. Perhaps excitement most of all.
Yes, Jen knew this girl. She knew her more, perhaps, than Diana knew herself.
“Well, don’t just stand there.” Jen said, keeping her voice soft, yet firm at once. “Please close the door, Diana.” her lips caressed the name.
Diana stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door.
“Now, lock the door.”
She locked the door.
“That’s a good girl.” Jen said. She stretched languidly, completely aware of how her breast swelled beneath the thin fabric. She heard a satisfying little gasp escape Diana’s lips. This was excellent indeed. “Now come over here. That’s it, stand next to the desk.”
Jen noticed the girl’s eyes dart to the desktop, staying fixed to the item that had just been taken from the drawer. It was a walnut paddle, small, oval and drilled with five holes. It lay there on the desk, inviting, teasing, menacing.
When she spoke, Jen noted with delight that Diana had been held rapt by the paddle. The girl nearly jumped. “Do you know why I have asked you here, Diana?”
The girl shook her head, but she licked her lips at the same time. Her eyes kept darting to the paddle on the desk. Oh, this was too good to be true.
“You see,” Jen started, lithely rising from her chair, moving to stand over her new student. The poor thing was practically trembling. “Here at the academy, we put an emphasis on a young lady’s manners.” this was all the bullshit that Jen had heard her headmistress say when she was a girl. “And if that young lady is not instilled with proper manners, then it could be said that we as teachers performed poorly.” she reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of Diana’s eyes. Instead of flinching, the girl sighed and leaned into her teacher’s hand. Good. Very good.
Jen moved back over to her chair, trying to hide the smile on her face. “And so when you,” she turned back and looked at Diana. “show up late to a class on the first day, that isn’t a very good beginning as far as manners go, now is it.”
Diana wouldn’t meet her eyes. When she spoke, it was a breathy whisper. “No, Ms. McCormick.”
“And it wouldn’t be very becoming of me, as a teacher, to let you get away with poor behavior, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t Ms. McCormick.”
Ooh, this was too good. “And what, then, would you have me do?”
Diana took a long time in answering. Her eyes kept darting to the paddle. “P-Punish me?” the girl looked like she was getting almost as wet as Jen herself was.
Jen simply nodded. She beckoned with one delicate finger for her student to approach. Diana came closer, hesitantly at first, then practically scurrying. She stopped in front of the teacher, eyes still downcast, her breathing quick, her hands fidgeting as she fought the urge to rub at her crotch. Jen smiled her secret smile, knowing that feeling all too well. “Lay across my lap, Diana.”
She was quick to comply. She stretched across Jen’s lap, her pert, bottom presented in the air beneath a plaid skirt, her long legs stretched out as her feet tried desperately to touch the floor. Jen lifted back the skirt almost reverently, savoring the moment. She ran her fingers over the thin cotton panties, eliciting a soft moan from Diana’s lips. She teased her fingernails over the fabric, then down her thighs until they met the tops of the cotton stockings. Already Jen could feel the heat from Diana’s crotch beginning to build.
Now was the time. She brought her hand down in a hard swat, being sure to keep her palm cupped to spread the sting, lessen the pain. After all, she didn’t want to hurt her new found vixen.
Nevertheless, Diana let out a slight gasp. It could have been surprise, it could have been discomfort. Maybe it was both. Jen brought her hand down again, harder this time. And again, harder, each swat harder than the last.
Swat.
Swat.
Swat.
Swat.
Now Diana began to squirm. Jen paused in the spanking to reach up and slip a finger beneath the waistband of her panties. She lowered the cotton fabric to the base of her student’s thighs, and began caressing Diana’s bottom with her fingernails. She moaned.
“Please,” Diana began, her voice soft and breathy. “Please, stop.”
Jen continued to let her fingers roam over the shapely curves. “Why should I stop? Don’t you think you need to be punished?”
“Yes.” she whispered.
“And haven’t you been naughty?”
“Yes,” Diana said, drowsily. “Very naughty.”
“Well then.” oh, this was going along deliciously. Jen hadn’t been this aroused since…ever. Never had she seen a girl so submissive, yet willing to give herself over so quickly. She even suspected that she could have asked Diana to spank her, and the girl would have done it. And well too. Perhaps she might do that, later on.
Her hand came down in a slap, the flimsy protective garment of the panties gone now. Diana’s cheeks quivered, and she let out another gasp. The flesh was beginning to turn red. Diana started rubbing her hips against Jen’s thigh, trying to quell the need that was growing there. Jen’s hand came down.
Swat.
Swat.
Swat.
Swat.
Swat.
Diana’s cheeks were two bright red moons now, trembling as she bucked and ground her pelvis against her teacher’s thigh. Ooh, how Jen was enjoying this. As a girl, she had always come out of the headmistress’ office with a sore bottom, and an incredible urge to masturbate. She would race home an up the stairs, and lock the door to her bedroom. Then she would rub furiously between her thighs until the shuddering orgasm ripped through her.
Of course, in her days as a student, her parents had been typical parents. The rule had been that if you get spanked at school, you get twice the spanking at home. Her mother would come upstairs after hearing what had happened, grab the hairbrush and give her another good swatting. After the scolding and the spanking, mother would go downstairs, Jen would lock the door, and masturbate again.
But for this girl over her lap, this writhing, squirming, beautiful girl, Jen wanted to make it a different experience. She didn’t want Diana to have to wait until she got home before quenching her urges, she didn’t want her without someone to share her fantasies. She knew what that was like, and it could be terrible.
On her lap, Diana shuddered and gasped, then went limp. A thin trickle of silvery moisture ran from her crotch down her thigh, and she was panting. Jen began caressing her abused bottom again, soothing with her fingers as her nails traced lazy circles on the red moons.
“Yes,” she said. “Now you see what naughty little girls get.”
“Mmmmhhhmm.”
“But I don’t think you quite grasp just how naughty you’ve been.”
At this Diana turned to look back over her shoulder, to gaze up at her teacher. Jen saw muted fear in her eyes, but mixed with curiosity and excitement. “Yes, teacher.” she said, a slight smile coming to her lips. Fearful at first, but her excitement overwhelmed it. “I do. I have been very, very naughty.”
Now it was Jen’s turn to be curious. “Oh yes? And what exactly has my little pet been up to?”
“Well, for one,” Diana squirmed and wriggled, sitting up until she was erect, straddling Jen’s lap. She looked her square in the eye. “I tried to seduce my teacher.”
Now, wasn’t this a pleasant little surprise.
Diana leaned in close, her lips brushing against Jen’s neck, her breath teasing her flesh. She whispered, “And that is a very, very naughty thing to do.” Jesus this was arousing. “I think I need to really learn my lesson.”
Then she kissed her, softly at first, then growing in intensity and passion. Jen felt fingers toying with her hair, felt the heat from inside of both of them growing. Her fingers found her student’s blouse, and she unfastened the buttons hastily. She threw off Diana’s tie. She threw back her blouse, exposing a black velvety bra and perky breasts beneath. She leaned down and kissed her smooth belly, working her lips all over while her hands worked at the clasp of the bra. Diana’s sat up to give her room to move, and a soft smile came across her pouty lips. Gone was the innocent, demure girl. This was a vixen, a firecat, a young woman who wanted to explore her sexuality.
Before Jen could undo her bra though, Diana leaned back. She rose from Jen’s lap and stood languidly, pulling off her blouse completely. She reached back and unhooked her bra, letting her breasts free, her nipples erect and begging for attention.
Jen stood, smoothly undoing the buttons of her own blouse. She let it fall to the floor, knowing full well that she had no bra to remove. She made to kiss Diana again, but her prey leaned back, a coy smile on her lips. She placed on well-manicured finger over Jen’s mouth and said, “No, teacher. I’ve been a very naughty little girl. I think its time that you discipline me.”
With that she moved lithely from Jen’s embracing arms and strode to the other side of the desk. She looked meaningfully into her teacher’s eyes, then bent over from the waist, placing her palms on the desktop, her back arched slightly and her bottom pushed out.
Where had this girl come from?
Jen walked over slowly, picked up the walnut paddle from the desk. She thought she heard an intake of breath from Diana.
She positioned herself behind her errant pupil. The skirt had fallen down, and she lifted it up and folded it over onto the small of Diana’s back, exposing the still red globes of her bottom. She wondered just how much her new star student could take. “Now,” she said, feeling the need to give a warning. “If at anytime you want me to stop, just say so.”
Diana’s head bobbed in assent. “Mmm-hmm.” she was probably biting her lip, anticipating the blow.
Jen pulled her arm back. She swung. Swat.
Smack.
Swat.
Smack.
“Oh, Ow, Ow.” Diana cried. Tears were forming in her eyes. But she didn’t want it to stop. She had been naughty. Very naughty. And naughty girls get punished.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” she said, between swats. “I’ve been bad.”
Jen smiled. “All right. Then I think ten more should do it.” she knew that Diana was living a fantasy right now. To be anything other than that fantasy would ruin it. She could not show compassion, not yet. “And I want you to count. If you miss a count, then that’s another added on. Do you understand?”
Diana nodded again. She was biting her lip.
Jen swung. The paddle cracked against the crimson flesh, and Diana cried out. “Unnnhh!!” Her bottom quivered from the blow, her swollen cheeks glaring red. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes. “One.” she whispered.
Again, the paddle smacked her bottom. “Oh my god!” Jen knew that hurt, knew how much it could sting. But she knew that if she let up, it would be ruined, and Diana needed this release. She knew because she had needed it once too. “Two.”
Crack. “Three.”
Crack. “Oh god. Four.”
Crack. “Five.”
Crack. “Six.”
Crack. “Oh my god! Seven!”
Crack. “Eight!”
Crack. “Nine!”
Crack. “Ten! Ten!”
Diana slumped forward on the desk, sobbing. It was relief, Jen knew, relief and release. She suspected that Diana had kept her fantasies, her cravings and needs inside all her life. Now it was all coming out in one swift stroke. She stepped in close and started moving her hand over the warm flesh of Diana’s buttocks in circles, massaging, caressing, soothing.
Diana moaned, “oh, that feels good.”
Jen kept at it, knowing that it would ease the sting for a while at least. They were like this for an hour or so, Jen caressing Diana’s tortured flesh, Diana breathing softly, sometimes crying, letting everything out. They were not teacher and student anymore, but lovers, friends. They had both shared something incredible, and while Jen suspected that they would resume their professional relationship tomorrow with the ring of the bell, she knew that after class, Diana was hers.
