Disclaimer:
Please read and take note. This work explores Femdom themes of power imbalance, female domination and male submission, humiliation and corporal discipline of an adult taking the role of a schoolboy. Please do not read this story if you find such themes offensive, distasteful, or upsetting. This is a work of fiction that I wrote for my sweet sub, Jason, and is freely offered up for the enjoyment of those who would like it. British English spellings are used throughout. Troll comments will be deleted with extreme prejudice.
Kate Kissme sat back in her leather desk chair and stroked her fingertips along the polished mahogany in front of her. This desk, like the rest of Markham Hall, the exclusive finishing school for wayward 'boys' and 'girls', was expensive and desirable. Many rich and powerful men and women sent their spouses, mistresses, and slaves here for a little re-education when required, and Kate took her responsibility as Headmistress very seriously. No pupil under her rule returned home anything short of obedient.
Every infringement of the rules and every resultant punishment was recorded in the individual pupil's Punishment Log, and a report was presented, often in person, to their benefactor every Friday. This took place at what the pupils fearfully called
The Reckoning
-- an assembly where the esteemed visitors could administer their own punishments in front of the assembled student body. Ah, how Kate loved her Friday assemblies.
Kate was a very busy lady, but she always made time to discipline any pupil who was sent to her office, particularly as each and every one of them was old enough to know better. She was a consummate professional, and she ensured that each and every punishment session was a very thorough reminder of the consequences of defiance and rule-breaking.
A barely audible knock broke Kate out of her reverie.
Ahh, and here was one such rule-breaker now. The boy, Jason, despite his thirty-five years, was new to the school and still thought that he could act out like he had at home. This was the reason that his stepmother had sent him to Kate's fine establishment, and she was going to make sure he left her office with a much-improved attitude.
'Enter!' Kate demanded in a cool, authoritative tone.
The boy, dressed in the regulation uniform of shined shoes, knee socks, shorts, white button-up shirt and tie under a grey school blazer, sheepishly stood at the threshold to her office. Not quite so cocky now, was he?
'Well, boy. What are you doing lurking in my doorway? Get in here this instant and close the door behind you.'
As he took his place in front of her desk, he studiously avoided eye contact, whilst Kate took her time re-reading the note that Miss Honey had sent earlier. Miss Honey was a sweet, pretty, newly qualified teacher. Kate had taken her under her wing, enjoying the way the younger woman had looked to her for guidance. And Kate had been more than happy to share her experience in many pleasurable areas of school and extra-curricular life.
She snapped her icy glare at the boy. 'In my school, every member of my teaching faculty should expect to be treated with the utmost respect, and any filthy little boy that is caught flouting that rule is dealt with swiftly and severely.'
Jason squirmed and stared at the floor.
She continued, 'When Miss Honey informed me that you were being sent to my office for interfering with yourself in her class, I was enraged!' Standing up behind her desk, she reached for a ruler and smacked it down on the wooden surface, making the boy's shoulders jerk.
'How DARE you touch yourself while looking at Miss Honey's bottom as she bent to get the books from the cupboard? Casually attempting to excuse your behaviour as "a couple of quick pulls, but not enough to get you anywhere near close," only compounds your insolence.'
The cocky little brat from Miss Honey's class melted under Kate's withering gaze. If he thought he could get away with such insubordination with an experienced teacher such as herself, he had a lot to learn. Luckily, she was more than ready to teach him.
'This disrespect and lack of contrition is completely unacceptable! It is fortunate for you that I am very experienced at whipping wilful boys into shape and setting them back on the virtuous path to learning.'
At the word whipping, the boy glanced up, as though looking for the implement that she was going to use on his recalcitrant hide. Unfortunately for him, Kate did not like to give her pupils too much prior warning of what fate was to befall them. She enjoyed the 'shock and awe' inspired by a surprise unveiling of her chosen instrument.
'Take down your shorts and bend yourself over my desk.' When he baulked at her command, she hissed, 'Quickly now, boy! I am a very busy lady and do not have all day to punish a dirty little peeping Tom like you.'
As the boy unwillingly fumbled with the fastenings of his shorts and dragged the flannel cloth over his hips, Kate soon realised the cause of his reluctance.
'What. Is. This?'
She could scarcely believe the audacity of the boy. In all her years in teaching she had never seen such blatant insubordination. 'Are those girls' panties that you are wearing? And not just a nice, modest pair of white, cotton panties. Those filthy underthings are the garments of a common slut!'
The boy's face flushed almost as red at the lacy thong panties that framed his cringing nether cheeks, but still, he remained silent.
Like a lioness, Kate stalked around her desk to better see the extent of the boy's depravity.
'We have a very STRICT uniform policy, and anyone caught wearing non-regulation attire has already earned themselves a disciplinary session. However, what you have done defies all logical explanation,' Kate snarled.
Kate's mind was busy calculating the myriad rules this boy had broken in one day and the resultant punishments he had accrued.
'Jerking your pathetic boy flesh while wearing slutty panties? What will your stepmother say when I have to inform her of your depravity?'
Although bent at the waist over her desk, Kate saw him blanch. Clearly, his stepmother was not going to take the news well. This Friday's assembly was going to be especially memorable, she mused.
'Well? Nothing to say for yourself?'
Finally, the boy mumbled into the desk, 'I'm sorry, Miss.'
'That's
Headmistress Kissme
to you, boy.'
'I'm sorry, Headmistress Kissme.'
'Oh, you will be, boy,' she pronounced in a voice that made him moan. 'I can assure you of that. At least, when I speak to your stepmother, I can inform her that you have been severely thrashed for your perverted predilections.'