PUNISHMENT + REFORM + EDUCATION
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Games People Play
Part 3, by Unknown
Sheila stood in fear in front of the desk awaiting the dreaded words she knew were coming.
Over she went, her head hanging very low over the downward slope of the desk and her golden tresses brushing the floor. Her legs hung down over the other side and her toes barely touched the ground.
Carol immediately grasped the hem of the girl's pleated skirt and started to raise it, seductively. Underneath the skirt appeared, bit by bit, a pretty, white, broderie anglaise petticoat. Lifting this up, caused the dimpled backs of Sheila's knees to be uncovered, followed by her white thighs and finally her navy knickers came into view. Carol paused for a moment, smoothing her hands over the navy blue cotton fabric. Sheila's bottom felt beautifully firm and rounded, surprising considering she was a young teenager. She traced a finger down the cheeks of Sheila's buttocks. Sheila moved about nervously.
"I'm going to really enjoy beating your lovely bottom, my girl. Now the time has come to bare it completely, so my cane can do its work. We want you to really feel it, don't we? Especially round here", she said, fingering the girl's cunt through the thin material. Sheila cried out in pain. The cane had already worked its wonders in that area - stung her to the very quick. But somehow she felt that would be nothing in comparison to what was about to follow. Still Carol caressed the round target.
"Enough of this. Let's do it!", said Carol suddenly and took hold of the undergarment by the elasticated waistband. The perverted teacher very slowly eased the knickers down. The material twisted and bunched on each side of the girl's thigh as they were pulled down, but finished at the appointed place, inside out, resting, gusset uppermost around her knees. The girl's ivory bottom looked magnificent, marked for the moment only by the deep impressions around the legs left by the knicker elastic. This little, some would say insignificant, little detail, somehow emphasised the miscreant's nakedness. The embarrassing and upthrust nature of the girl's position caused the backs of her thighs to tauten. Sheila's pleated skirt and pretty petticoat hung down inverted over her shoulders. Carol tucked the bottom of the blouse out of the way and instructed the girl to spread her legs as far as her knickers would allow.
"Bend right forward", said Carol. Sheila's rump was upthrusting and taut - a perfect target for corporal punishment, her swollen, bruised labia pushing out sexily between her nude buttocks. Carol then picked up the leather thongs and tied each hand and ankle tightly to the ornate cast iron side pieces of the desk. Sheila lay suspended, exposed bottom uppermost to the ravages of the cane, unable to ease her plight and knowing that she had been bound hand and foot for a very good reason. The punishment she was about to receive would be so painful, that the bonds would prevent her from leaping up or tend to her wounded bottom cheeks.
Mrs Robinson reached into her pocket and removed a clean handkerchief. "You'd better chew on this", she said forcing it into the girl's mouth. Sheila struggled. She knew that she would not be able to bear what her bare bottom was about to receive.
"Please, Miss - no, no!!!", she whined in panic, as the hanky was forced between her gums.
Carol picked up the short, thick cane with one hand and started to smooth out the skin of Sheila's bottom with the other.
"You are now going to receive a traditional six-of-the-best on your bare bottom, just as you would have received in the good old days. The only pity of it is, that the punishment couldn't take place on the stage, at morning assembly, in front of the whole school. That is how a caning of this nature used to take place, so think yourself very lucky that the only eyes that will observe the blistering of your bottom will be mine and John's".
Tapping the crown of Sheila's bare bum with the cane, she added "Because stealing is such a serious offence, I shall use a reformatory cane which will hurt considerably. I must warn you that your bottom will bleed, but you will recover, given time. Brace yourself. I want you to thank me after the caning, for punishing you so effectively. Do you understand?".
Sheila nodded her head in affirmation and closed her eyes tightly.
Carol placed the thick bulk of the cane squarely across both cheeks and scrutinised the lovely punishment area, which so soon would be turned into a mass of red and hopefully, bleeding weals. She watched as goose pimples broke out on the surface of Sheila's bottom. The mere touch of the cane against her bareness and the anticipation of the excruciating pain the implement would leave in its wake, was enough to raise hairs on Sheila's, yet to be beaten, buttock skin.
The beating was about to commence. A young schoolgirl was about to learn a very severe and extremely painful lesson. The atmosphere was heavy with ritual. All that was needed now to complete the drama, thought Carol, was a roll on the drums!
John crouched low on the floor, his eyes at about the level of the girl's knickers which were stretched tightly about her knees. Her ankles tried to wrest the straps away, but the leather merely groaned and tightened even more. He watched in awe as, almost in slow motion, the cane in Mrs Robinsonps tightly clenched right fist was raised to the ceiling and swung down mercilessly on to the crown of Sheila's bottom.
Sheila, wide-eyed now, shrieked into the handkerchief. The cane bounced off her cheeks and John could see a massive red tramline spring up on the schoolgirl's buttocks. A blue/black edge appeared on both sides of the weal, which was now standing a quarter of an inch above the rest of Sheila's pasty white skin. A tiny trickle of blood ran down the outside of her thigh, where her skin had been split by the cane.
Carol waited a full minute to allow the pain to spread across the naughty girl's bottom. Carol, in the meantime, grabbed John's hand and thrust it under her skirt. John knew she was aroused and guessed what she wanted. Sheila could not see what was going on as John felt Carol's cunt through the material of her knickers. They were soaking wet! As Carol flexed the thick, but pliable cane, John wanked her furiously through the damp, pink fabric. Eventually, Carol took up position again, legs akimbo and John withdrew his hand from under her tight black skirt.
John smelled her arousal on his fingers as he trailed them under his nose and sniffed, pervertedly. Carol was trembling with excitement as she again tapped Sheila's wounded bottom an inch below the first weal. Carol was determined to cause the girl as much agony as her right arm would allow.
The cane rose again. WHOOOOOOSH! For a second time it made contact.. Sheila's bottom jumped off the desktop and the desk visibly moved a few inches across the room with the force of the blow.
A second ugly weal appeared slightly below the first. "Perfect positioning", thought John and smiled at Carol.
Another trickle of blood travelled down the other thigh, the flow being stemmed by the side of Sheila's stretched knicker elastic. Sheila sobbed into her handkerchief, her salty tears rolling down her forehead into her golden, blonde hair.
After another minute, to allow the pain to build, Carol prepared to apply a third stroke, slightly beneath the second. Her arm rose and her breasts stretched the fabric of her blouse.
Wheeling round, she whipped the cane down and bounced it off the truculent schoolgirl's lovely, rapidly colouring cheeks.
A muffled scream emanated from the struggling girl's mouth as she tried to wriggle against her bonds.
This was no ordinary school caning. It was the stuff of Eton and Harrow floggings, of days gone by. Mrs Carol Robinson, teacher at St Hughes Upper School, wielded the stick with the same vindictive ferocity as the evil Miss Scatchard might have done when publicly birching the naked buttocks of an errant Victorian pupil in a scene from Jane Eyre. Carol imagined, as she brought the cane whistling down for the fifth time, of that same fantasy pupil, held down by fellow mistresses over the birching block, in front of the whole school - having her long Victorian, skirt turned back, her voluminous petticoats raised over her head and the ribbons of her long frilly bloomers undone before being wrenched down to the level of her boots, to expose her ivory bottom.
The lazy girl, who had not learned her two times table, (or some similar, petty misdeed) would then, with all the traditional Victorian ritual and ceremony, be thrashed severely with a birch that had been left steeping in salt water, the skin flayed inch by inch from her naughty bottom. In those enlightened days, it was not unusual for a wayward girl to receive 50, or even 100 strokes of the birch. Always publicly, of course and always on the bared bottom.
Carol Robinson, shook from head to toe as she came, wetting her knickers as she did so. The scene before her was one of extraordinary power and sexuality. The fifth stroke had landed low down on Sheila's thighs, causing another bloody weal to adorn her lower posterior.
Sheila was desperately trying to say something, mumbling animatedly through her gag. Suddenly, she managed to spit it out the handkerchief.
"Please Miss, I desperately want to go to the toilet", cried the girl.
"Well, you'll just have to wait until I've finished with you. I'm not untying you now", said Carol.
"But please, Miss. I'm absolutely bursting", pleaded Sheila.
"In that case, you will do it where you are", replied Carol. "John. Please go to the drinks cabinet and get a pint beer tankard".
John did as he was told and came back, holding the glass.
"Now hold it underneath her", said Carol. John went goggle-eyed and Carol winked at him again.
"You had better not miss, or I'll start this beating again", Carol told Sheila.
John held the glass by the handle, between the girl's legs and directly under her cunt. "OK. Now do it", said the teacher.
They both watched as the girl's puffy lips hung above the pint glass. There was a few seconds delay as Sheila tried to control the huge flow that was about to flood into the glass. She must not miss. Suddenly a trickle of light amber coloured urine emanated from between her piss flaps and ran down the inside edge of the tankard. There was another brief pause and then Niagara started...
Eventually the torrent eased to a dribble and John removed the three-quarter full beer glass. John continued to watch closely as drips formed along the rim of Sheila's clam shell and finally dripped into her knicker gusset which stretched between her knees.
"Dry her with this", said Carol, offering John a tissue. With great relish took the tissue and offered it up between the girl's spread legs. "This is wonderful", thought John, as he gently wiped around the inner lips of her cunt.
His fingers worked their way around her inner surfaces and dabbed her piss-hole until no further drips formed. Unseen by the girl, but seen by Carol, John put the damp tissue in his pocket and licked his fingers. To him, it was pure nectar - slightly bitter, but young girl nectar, all the same.
Carol bent down and took the glass from him, squeezing his throbbing prick, as she did so. She placed the nearly full glass on one side. She picked up the cane and resumed her position.
"And now for your sixth and last stroke", said Carol to Sheila. "Are you ready for this".
"Yes Miss. Get it over with quickly, please", begged the girl, who was no longer gagged.
Mrs Robinson stood sideways on and tapped the cane on Sheila's thighs, midway between the crown of her bottom and the girl's knees.
Tap, tap .....
And the wicked cane rose for the last time. Carol swung her body around and the cane whistled noisily. Sheila screwed up her eyes in anticipation of the damage the stick was about to cause.
It cut her in half and her reaction was predictable. An ear-piercing scream rushed from her lips as the cane tore into the very sensitive area above the girl's knees.
"That's it. Six of the very best", said Carol. "What do you have to say to me?"
Between sobs, Sheila said, "Thank you so much Miss, for giving my bottom such a good caning. I'll never be naughty again".
Sheila's bottom looked like a piece of raw steak. Six dazzling stripes adorned what were once her lily white buttocks and blood seeped from many of her open weals. She had never, ever experienced such pain. Carol untied her bonds and raised her painfully to her feet. Bending down, she assisted in removing Sheila's knickers and placed them on the chair with the two canes.
"It will be far too painful to wear those", said Carol. "You can leave them with me. They are a bit bloodstained anyway and won't be any more use to you".
Sheila nodded as she pulled down her white petticoat and school skirt over her damaged rear. Her eyes were red and bloodshot and she was snivelling like a two year old. Her whole face was bright pink and she screwed up her face as she tried to walk across the room.
"Just wait there while I write a note to your mother", said Mrs Robinson, going to the bureau and removing pen and paper. She bent down at the bureau and started scribbling:
Dear Mrs Reynolds
Sheila has received the following:
Sheila will be in a lot of pain for a number of days as the cane produced a number of wounds as you will see. They will heal up, but it might be an idea to bathe her breasts, private parts and particularly the weals on her bottom with an antiseptic lotion.
Sheila has received the following:
Sheila will be in a lot of pain for a number of days as the cane produced a number of wounds as you will see. They will heal up, but it might be an idea to bathe her breasts, private parts and particularly the weals on her bottom with an antiseptic lotion.
Carol placed the letter in an envelope, sealed it and gave it to Sheila. She then handed Sheila her blazer and tie, and the girl limped uncomfortably to the front door, grasping her bottom through her skirt and wincing. "Don't be late for school on Monday", Carol warned as she closed the door.
Carol turned to John and put his arms around him, holding his head against her chest. Suddenly she reached down and, in a flash, unzipped his trousers.
Reaching into the top of his underpants, she extracted the longest, stiffest, meatiest prick she had ever seen on a young man. With her left hand she freed his balls and caressed them gently. The tip of his prick was awash with sticky pre-come as Carol slowly pulled the foreskin backwards and forwards a few times.
His balls started to tighten. "Judging by how wet you are, you really enjoyed watching me thrash that young girl, didn't you", said Carol. John was so excited, he could hardly form the words and just nodded instead.
"Would you like to give me a really good wank now?", said Carol. "I'll come in your mouth, if you like".
John didn't need asking a second time, and knelt down in front of his teacher. "Love to", he replied. "Open your legs as wide as they will go, so that I can get my fingers up you". Mrs Robinson complied by dropping her soggy knickers to her ankles and spreading her knees wide apart.
"You may insert your finger in my bottom too. That will help me come more quickly", Carol added.
With two hands, John reached over his head and with both hands, pushed his fingers through the wiry pubic hairs. Taking hold of each cunt lip, he pulled them wide apart and stared up into the huge chasm of her vagina. The dark red tunnel disappeared up into her womb. It felt delightfully gluey again, already, as he inserted two fingers of his right hand into her juicy hole. With both fingers her worked her love juice around her cunt walls. Momentarily, he withdrew them and grasped her two bottom cheeks, spreading those as well, to uncover her pinkish-brown coloured anus. With one finger he rubbed some of her love-juice around the puckered skin, returning to her vagina to collect more.
When Carol's rose was sufficiently lubricated, John very gently pushed the middle finger of his left hand deep into her fundament. The first joint went up her, then the second and finally his finger was in Carol's bottom up to the knuckle! It squelched a little as he moved it around, giving the rough insides of her rectum a good feel. He was sure that he could feel something solid up there and a different odour wafted up his nostrils. Carol groaned with delight as he energetically worked his finger up her anal canal.
At the same time he was reaming her back passage, John reinserted the fingers of his right hand in Carol's pussy. First one finger stretched her, then two, then three. He rotated them in her snatch and her groans grew louder. As he finger-fucked her, Carol became wetter and wetter. He worked at her for ten glorious minutes, Carol urging him on towards her climax.
"I think I'm going to come right now, the way your finger is stuck up my arse", moaned Carol.
"Just do it then", replied John, plunging all his fingers deeper and deeper, working one of them into her hood and rubbing the hard nub of her clit.
Suddenly, Carol let rip and flooded his right hand as she roared "I'm coming!!! Quickly, suck it right out of me - finish me off".
John withdrew all of his pussy-juice coated fingers and stretched her cunt until it nearly engulfed him. Burying his head in her thatch of pubic hair and sucked for all he was worth. Most women do not ejaculate, but it was almost as if Carol had. Strings of clear viscous, glutinous vaginal fluid dripped on to his tongue, which he worked up her gash in a frenzy. This caused her to have multiple orgasms and Carol shrieked the house down in sexual delight.
"Oh my God. Oh my God", she croaked, shaking in every part of her body. Once she had calmed down, Carol reached down for her knickers. John could have these later on, but not just yet. She pulled them up over her cunt and pulled down her petticoat and tight black skirt. Carol still looked very aroused, but also, quite literally, very, very relieved. She took John around the waist and pulled him to her, kissing him firmly on the mouth that had so recently been her come receptacle. John felt her hot cunt through her clothes as she snogged him mercilessly.
"Another service completed", he thought, looking down at his inundated fingers, one of which was slightly brown in colour.
The two of them went back downstairs to the living room. Carol looked John eye to eye and said, with mock severity, "You have been very, very naughty, haven't you?"
"Yes", replied John.
"And what do naughty boys get, when they've been very, very bad?", said Carol.
"The cane, Miss", whispered John.
"Yes, the cane", whispered back Carol, her whole body shaking with anticipation. "You've never been caned before, have you?", she asked.
"No, Miss", said John, trying to look like a shy, embarrassed, naughty little boy, (and not succeeding, as a tent pole started rising at the front of his trousers).
"Come with me", she commanded, leading him by the hand to the straight-backed chair, standing in the middle of the lounge. "This will be extremely painful, of course, but I shall also try to make it an extremely erotic experience for you too. After all, we want you to remember your very first caning, don't we?"
Carol Robinson gradually eased her black, pencil skirt up her thighs. This was quickly followed by her white petticoat. As before, the material of her clothes swished erotically against the black nylon of her stockings as they ascended towards her hips. Carol struggled to get her skirt and slip above her waist. White suspenders, which were clipped to her stocking tops side and front, disappeared sexily up the knicker legs of Carolās pink, cotton undergarment.
John wondered why she was doing this, at this particular moment. The sense of it suddenly occurred to him - how sexy it would feel, lying across his teacher's lovely uncovered lap.
Carol sat down in the chair. "Stand in front of me", she demanded.
John did what he was told, standing with his hands by his sides. Without wasting any time, Carol's fingers set about stripping the clothes from his lower body, to prepare him for his well-earned punishment. She undid his belt and the top button of his trousers. Slowly she unzipped his flies and reached in. Her fingers enclosed his rigid pole through the damp material of his white underpants. Carol spent a few minutes manipulating his rod through the thin fabric, before allowing his trousers to fall to his ankles. Grasping his underpants by the waist, she slowly eased them down his legs, completely exposing his privates. John's prick caught on the front of his pants as she lowered them to mid thigh and sprang back when released. It stood straight out at ninety degrees, pointing at Carol's chest, as she sat on the punishment chair.
Before positioning him, Carol took hold of John's foreskin and pulled it back over his glans, thus exposing his big red, blood-engorged bell end. Holding his foreskin back tightly with the forefinger and thumb of her right hand and cupping his heavy balls with her left, Mrs Robinson bent her head and inserted his helmet between her moist lips and started sucking on it ravenously, creating a vacuum around the head and making it redder than ever. The suction was so great that John almost shot his load. John's pre-come coated her tongue and hung in a great gooey string from her lips as she finally withdrew his prick from her pretty mouth.
"Right, let's get on with this", said Carol suddenly, pulling herself together. "Stand on my right, close up against my leg". John shuffled around to the side.
With one hand, Carol again pulled back his foreskin and with the other pulled open the leg of her knickers closest to John. A mass of Carol's pubic hairs sprung into view and she ferreted amongst them in order to separate her cunt lips. John looked down and saw Carol peel open the hood which protected her clit.
Carol held her hood open with the forefinger and thumb of her left hand and with her right on the small of John's back she encouraged him slowly forward and down. John's erect tool eased its way under the elastic of her knicker leg, through the gap until the very tip of his helmet made contact with Carolās hard, aroused clitoris.
In that position, Carol pushed him further over her lap until his head and hands hung down on the left hand side of her body. John grasped Carol's left ankle, encased in black nylon, her foot enclosed by a stiletto, high-heeled shoe and luxuriated in the feel and rustle of her stocking tops and warm, bare thighs.
His prick penetrated Carol's cunt lips and he could feel her pubic thatch curling round the shaft. Her front two suspenders pressed into the front of John's thighs and he could feel the warmth of her body against his. Carol's breasts, supported by her lacy bra and white cotton blouse, felt heavy on his back and John thought he could detect the feel of her aroused nipples brushing sexily against him.
John's bottom mooned inches from Carol's face. With her left hand she gripped him round his back, whilst her right stroked and caressed the white, as yet unsullied, skin of his buttocks. She ran her fingers down his bottom crease and lightly played with his scrotum. Eventually, she tucked his balls between his legs. After all, if her cane cut into those, there would be no more fun and games for a while and she so loved it when he unloaded them down her throat, or other areas into which he had not yet had the pleasure of thrusting. After petting him for a few quiet minutes, Carol eased his underpants further down his thighs, thus baring his bottom completely.
His bared buttocks were now ready to be thrashed. Carol turned to the desk and retrieved the short, thick cane. Taking it firmly by the crooked handle, she laid the length of it across the division of his buttocks and tapped the crown of his bottom a few times. Having decided to thrash him across her knee, she knew that she would not be able to achieve the same degree of swing with the cane as she had used on Sheila, when she was bent over the school desk.
Consequently, the cane strokes would not be quite so effective. Still, the real reason for the beating was for pleasure rather than discipline. Carol was really only playing the punishing headmistress figure.
"Are you ready to receive the cane?", Carol asked.
"Yes", whispered John.
"Right. You are about to receive six of the best on your bare bottom", Carol pronounced huskily. "Let's see if we can thrash some of the naughtiness out of you! This is what happens to naughty schoolboys who play sexy games with their teacher. After each stroke, you will count aloud and thank me for punishing you so severely. You will refer to me as Headmistress. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Miss", replied John.
"Yes, Headmistress", corrected Carol.
She whipped the cane through the air a few times and it made a fearful whistling sound. John braced himself and gripped tightly on to Carol's left ankle. Carol spread her legs a little, as well as she was able to, with John lying prostrated over her lap.
Again Carol tapped the crown of John's bottom a few times with the rattan cane. "You wanted to know what the stick feels like", she said, breathing heavily, "well, it feels like this!"
John clenched his bottom cheeks as Carol lifted her right arm high above her head and brought the reform cane down hard on his bare bottom.
He could not believe the degree of pain that the stick imparted. The force which Carol had used, pushed his whole body forward and his prick lunged forward into the aperture in Carol's knickers accordingly. He breathed in painfully, through his teeth and Carol also drew a short sharp breath as the very tip of John's prick was driven against her hardening clitoris.
"ONE. Thank you Headmistress", whispered John a few seconds later as the cane was lifted away from the surface of his now damaged bottom. An ugly red tramline sprang up across the centre of his bottom. John now knew how thirteen year old Sheila must have felt during her bare-bottomed flogging.
Carol tapped again - tap, tap, tap - and raised her right arm. Again the cane descended on his buttocks, with the same viciousness as the first stroke. Again both John and Carol drew sharp breaths, but for very different reasons. He surely, now knew what a school caning must have been like in the old days. Again John's prick plunged sideways, deep within Carolās clitoral hood.
"TWO. Thank you Headmistress", John told the floor beneath him. He turned his head slightly, to his left and took in the wonderful view of Carol's left thigh, at the termination of her stocking tops. Her suspender disappeared up under her skirt, which remained tucked up around her waist, and connected to a white lacy suspender belt, at present hidden from his gaze. He reached back briefly, with his hand and caressed her thigh which was encased in black, before running it back down her seamed left calf.
"So you like feeling my legs do you?", said Carol and simultaneously whipped the cane down hard on to his bottom. John screamed this time and tried to nurse his tender behind. Carol was quick to grab his hand though and drag it up his back.
"What have you forgotten?", said Carol.
"THREE. Thank you Headmistress", croaked John, in obvious pain.
Carol waited a few minutes, while a third set of tramlines developed on his reddening bottom. The pain eventually abated and was replaced with an overall burning warmth in his rear end. Because of Carol's administrations, John's prick became rock hard, the tip becoming coated with his teacher's juices which had oozed from her aroused cunt into the front of her knickers. John could also feel Carol's hard clit trying to bury itself in the pee hole in the top of his penis.
"WHOOOOOOSH!" "THWAAAACK!" The cane bore down on his naked bum cheeks once more.
"FOUR. Thank you Headmistress", John uttered, insincerely.
"FIVE. Thank you Headmistress", he screamed.
"And now your final stroke", said Carol, almost happily. She tapped him below the five livid weals that she had bestowed upon him for his supposed naughty behaviour. This one would be quite low - near the top of his thigh. John was still in a lot of pain, but his turn-on was the fact that he was lying in this superb position, naked from the waist down across his favourite teacher's lap, with whom he had already committed the most sexy acts imaginable. Her skirts were raised, giving him maximum contact with her delightful stocking encased thighs and his rampant prick was jammed into her hairy cunt, through the stretched, lace-edged leg of her previously soiled, pink, cotton knickers.
"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!" Carol thrashed him fiercely with the cane.
"SIX. Thank you Headmistress", cried John and forced his prick forward into Carol's minge.
Suddenly, with the vision of his current predicament swimming in front of him, he spread his hands out on the floor, to take his full weight upon them. Carol sensed what was happening and spread her legs still further, at the same time pushing John's sore bottom harder into her loins. John grunted and suddenly shot his load up her knicker leg. Carol's clit was instantly doused with John's spunk spurting into the front panel of her underwear.
Carol's knickers were filled with the glutinous fluid from John's prick by the time he painfully eased himself off her lap and stood beside her, his cock dripping the last of his come on to her stockinged thigh.
Carol immediately threw down the cane and put her hand down the front of her knickers. She spread her knees so wide, her suspenders became as taught as bowstrings. Beneath the saturated fabric of her undies, she held her hood open with the fingers of one hand. Carol rubbed her clit furiously with the other and worked John's spunk into her crack. She suddenly shuddered and orgasmed powerfully into her gooey knicker gusset, coating her fingers and adding her own contents to the sticky mess.
Carol eventually calmed down and, with one hand, lifted John's now limp organ to her lips.
Peeling back the skin, she stuck her tongue out and licked all round his helmet, until John was completely clean. Lifting her other hand away from the inner folds of her cunt, she withdrew it from the depths of her knickers and offered John her glistening fingers, from which John hungrily lapped up his teacher's musky, vaginal spendings.
"Turn round and let's examine your cane stripes", said Carol.
John turned around. Carol lifted his shirt, which had fallen down his lower back. She could hardly believe the damage she had done with the short, thick, cane, but she could see exactly why it used to be favoured by Borstals and other penal institutions.
John looked as if he had been sitting on a red, hot griddle. Stripes they certainly were. Six ugly red weals, more like wounds, about three eighths of an inch across and thirteen inches long, spaced evenly apart, seared his white bottom from the crown of his buttocks to his upper thighs. Tramlines, which rose a quarter of an inch above the surface of his skin, were filled with the scarlet colour of diffuse blood.
Carol's excitement rose again. She could not wait to bear similar scars, which she was about to persuade John to give her. She had never suffered the cane and was fascinated by the awesome results she was presently examining. "Oh, yes John", she thought, "please decorate my bottom like this". She moved her manicured fingers slowly across the ridges and up and down the valleys between the lovely cane marks, imagining the raw, unadulterated pain, which the short, fat stick had imparted to his, once unblemished, naked buttocks. Carol could see, when she bent to examine his bottom closer, where the notches of the cane had left their imprint.
"What a wonderful instrument of pain", she thought to herself. In particular, she thought of the myriad of naked, schoolgirl buttocks, in days gone by, that had borne similar, painful weals. She could not wait to experience the dreadful kiss of the cane she was going to ask John to give her, with her knickers at her knees, her body bent in time honoured tradition, either over the school desk or touching her toes, whichever he chose.....