Boys Will Be Boys

I stood in the corner of the classroom, my hands firmly planted on the top of my head, muttering at the injustice of it all. I had heard that Melbourne Rise was strict, but I was 18 for hells sake, a 6th former, and I had been stood with a view of nothing but peeling paintwork for the last 45 minutes. I heard Ms Porter step back into the room and the blinds of the classroom fall, leaving only the glow of the florescent tubes. "Boy, what did you think you were doing?" Her voice was harsher than before, I could tell this time I was in for it. My response came as a mutter

"Nothing, it was just..."

"Just what? A Joke? I'm sure your classmate didn't find it funny, did she?"

"No" I was sulking by this time. I was being spoken to like a child, it had just been guys messing around, and I was taking the wrap.

"NO MISS, is how you shall address me Blake. I see it is not just your peers you treat with such disrespect but all women. Come to my desk" I walked over to Her desk, lowering my arms from my head I gave them a little rub to regain some of the feeling. "They tried lines with you at your old school I presume?" I rummaged in my satchel with one hand, thinking how particularly cruel it was that my position in the corner had made my arms ache before the hours of endless, repetitive writing. "And that didn't make an impact I see" Ms Porter continued, sat at the chair behind her desk, "I want you to bend over my desk, and we will see if I can't beat some respect into you."

"WHAT??! You can't do that!" I jerked my head up to look at her, she was wearing more make-up and a lower cut top than when she had left the room, and a sick stern kind of smile which made it clear that she could do that. And that I had very few options left. I bent slowly over the desk, taking in her scent as I leant towards her. She stood and walked round the desk and out of my sight behind me, the apprehension was near unbearable and although it could only have been a few seconds it felt minutes had passed before she spoke.

"Blake, earlier today you seemed to think it amusing to expose Miss Hern's underwear to your fellow classmates." This was clearly a statement, not a question, so I kept my mouth shut. "I think it is fair that you shall be in the same state for your caning"

"WHAT? NO. NO, that isn't going to happen" I spoke these words as I stood up from my position over her desk and turned to face the red haired maths teacher.

"Yes it is Mister Blake, are you going to cause me problems? Remove your trousers"

As the refusal to comply came from my lips she spun me round, bent me back over the desk and pinned me there with one hand. I felt her body against mine and a strange sense of arousal came over me as I took in her scent. I shouldn't be turned on by this, she practically assaulted me. I felt hands then. No, just one, undoing my belt, removing it and then she was using something to tie my hands to something on the other side of the desk, stretching me across the wood and pressing my cock against it. I clenched my legs together determined that she would not remove my trousers, but her strength was astounding given her lean stature. My trousers were at my ankles, she ordered me to step out of them, and my boxers did little to preserve my dignity. I snapped my legs back together, determined that she wouldn't see through to my cock, which was, much to my embarrassment beginning to get hard. I was completely vulnerable. I clenched my butt cheeks tight together in anticipation of the cane.

"Boy, I am going to give you 6 strokes for your behaviour towards Miss Hern, and a further 1 for each time you argued with me over your punishment, so 8 in all. You are to count them and if you miss one I will start again. If you try to avoid your punishment by squirming, I will start again. Don't give me a reason to make this worse boy."

I heard the cane before I felt it, a swoosh through the air then a thwack as it landed on my clenched buttocks. The pain took a few seconds to emerge a tingle before a sting, as bad as I was expecting, probably worse, sting wasn't the right word for this. The clenching helped. "One, Miss" then "two miss" almost immediately after, I hadn't been ready for that one, I had tensed up just as the cane hit, and she had seen.

"Blake, why are you clenching your buttocks like that? Does it hurt too much?" I wasn't fooled enough by the mock sympathy in her voice to answer "Do you know, boy, what they did to naughty boys who clenched their buttocks during a canning in Victorian times?"

"No Miss"

"Let us have a little history lesson then." I felt her come close again and lower my boxers, I tried to struggle against her but it was useless, she would surely feel my hard on, now raging against her desk, despite all my natural instincts of displeasure at the situation. Her nail scraped against my cock as she pulled my boxers down, but she didn't mention the state I was in having removed them from around my ankles she took something from her desk drawer. Then walked around again, back out of my sight, and bent to my left leg. I felt myself loose balance as she pulled my leg towards the leg of the desk and tied it securely to it, then my right leg. I was completely tied up and unable to move my arms or legs, but thank god, I could still clench my butt together. I heard the clink of her high heels on the floor and the door opening, but not shutting. I was tied to a desk, naked from the waist down with the door open whilst she went god knows where.

I didn't know how long passed before she returned, carrying something in her hand she stood behind me and I felt her fondle my butt cheeks, spreading them apart "Relax, it will be worse if you don't." worse? What the hell was she going to do with me, with one hand holding my cheeks apart she slipped something cold and wet into my anus, god, what was she doing that for. It started tingling, I tried to clench my arsehole tight to stop her pushing that thing in any further but it kept going in and the tingling had developed in to burning. "This Mr Blake is called figging, the tighter you clench, the more it burns."

"W-what is it Miss?"

"Ginger, 4 inches of it, freshly cut and shaped for your naughty little buttocks." I winced more and she stepped back to retrieve the cane, I had no choice now but to relax, but how much would the caning hurt. Determined to stay relaxed I awaited the 3rd Stroke of my punishment. And it came. Harder than the last two on my now bare and figged bottom.

"Ahh shit, fuck, oahh, th-three miss" I had been relaxed for the stroke, but clenched on the ginger, getting the worst of both sensations. And yet still, my cock was throbbing, desperate for some attention, If I could get through this I could go home and take care of it. For a moment the sexual desire took over the pain.

"That was not three, boy, we had to start again, and your appalling language has done little to help you, counting is clearly too difficult for your hormone crazed brain to handle- that's right, I have seen how hard your little dick has got from me punishing you. Let's try it again, 5 more strokes. " She came round to the front of me, and placed in my mouth my boxers, they were wet with my pre-cum and it tasted dirty in my mouth, I was considering using my tongue to move them out when they were taped firmly in place and she instructed me to remain silent.

The first three came in quick succession, one after the other in the delicate fold between leg and cheek, the sting of the cane mixed with the burn of the ginger, to leave me in a state of sexual agony. My anticipation of the next stroke forced my buttocks to clench hard around the ginger, intensifying the burning sensation and immediately making me relax in an attempt to dull the pain. She waited for that moment before she struck. This stroke came firmer than the previous three and was immediately followed by another swift blow. I was past half way, as the 6th stroke came, hard my body thrust forward the fraction of the inch it could, my cock, trapped between my body and the desk and inexplicably hard rubbed pleasurably against the hard oak. I let out a low moan through my boxers taped in my mouth, somewhere between pain and sexual desire. Ms Porter heard and let out a disapproving chuckle, but I continued thrusting my cock in an attempt to gain some release from the situation.

As the 7th stroke hit my now surely reddened bottom it added to my sense of arousal, the pain had been overwhelmed by the sexual urges coursing through my body. I awaited the 8th, in my position I was unable to see Ms Porter, but I felt her hand, cold against my burning cheeks, making its way towards the ginger plug. And then the pain intensified. She was fucking my arse with the ginger, renewing the sensations that had begun to subside. Then finally it came. My 8th and final stroke of the cane. It was in fact, my 11th stroke, and my arse burned and stung like I had never felt it before and my cock was hard and pressed against the table.

Then Ms Porter spoke. "Well done, boy. You dealt with that well in the end. Was it really worth making all that fuss over?"

I tried to speak, but through the fabric pressed between my lips it was no more than an incomprehensible murmur. I wasn't going to argue. My cock was too hard and my body ached too much for me to do anything. I found myself grateful for the restraints. They now kept me from falling to the floor.

"However, I am disappointed at this." She spoke as she reached underneath me and cruelly prodded my straining cock. "It seems I have done little to teach you in the long term about the consequences of your sexualisation of women. Maybe that would require a further session of a slightly different nature..."