The phone rang three times before it was answered. "Bournemouth 448981."
"Hello Mrs. Temple. It's Charles Leyton here. How are you?" Charles realised as he heard himself speak that his voice sounded strained and oddly high pitched. A brief pause ensued, as if the receiver of the call was collecting her thoughts.
"Charles dear, how nice to hear from you. How are you getting on at college?" Mrs. Temple's deep contralto was warm. Charles began to feel slightly more at ease.
"Fine, thank you. That is, well, not exactly."
"How do you mean Charles? There's nothing wrong I hope."
"Not really Mrs. Temple. Not in that sense. I mean I'm not in any trouble or anything." Charles paused. He could feel his heart beating and his mouth was suddenly very dry.
"Charles, is anything the matter?"
"Well, the reason I'm ringing you is that it's to do with my...my problem. The one that you helped me with last year. I'm afraid it has come back."
"Ah. I see," said Mrs. Temple. Charles waited expectantly. "In that case perhaps you had better come to see me. Would that be possible?"
"Yes. Yes, Mrs. Temple. I'm coming back next weekend so I could see you then. I was thinking if you were free on Friday afternoon. Only if it were convenient though."
Charles heard a rustling of paper at the other end of the telephone as Mrs. Temple consulted her diary. "I could set aside two hours to see you at 3.00pm Charles. Would that suit you?"
"Oh yes, that would be wonderful Mrs. Temple."
"Three it is then. Goodbye Charles."
"Goodbye Mrs. Temple. And thank you."
The heavy front door opened almost immediately.
"It's good to see that you have not lost the courtesy of punctuality Charles. Come in. You remember that my study is on the left."
Mrs. Helen Temple had been treating Charles' problem for some time. Her regime was strict, some might say excessively so, and Charles had spent a considerable time across Mrs. Temple's knee feeling the smart of her gloved hand and the sting of her punishment strap.
Charles had always been in thrall to his Governess and although no longer a callow youth, still trembled slightly in her presence. Mrs. Temple was impeccably attired in a tight fitting black leather pencil skirt and bolero jacket, a high necked red latex blouse, seamed black nylons and her trademark five inch black patent stiletto heels. She was wearing heavy make-up: thick red lipstick, foundation, eyeliner and mascara. Dangling from her ears and complementing her steely grey hair were a pair of silver, hooped earrings.
As Charles entered the study Helen reached across and took a file from her desk. Charles could not help noticing that Mrs. Temple was wearing a pair of soft black leather gloves.
"Charles Leyton," began Helen, opening the file. "Yes, I last saw you eighteen months ago about your problem." She smiled. "I thought I may have cured you but it seems not. Is that correct?"
"I'm afraid so Madam", replied Charles, tentatively. "It's, well, I have found it difficult to...."
"To what Charles?"
"To control things Madam." Charles looked pleadingly towards the older woman and then, his face redder than ever, cast his eyes down in shame.
"Indeed Charles. Well, we shall have to see about that won't we?" Mrs. Temple paused and looked severely at the young man opposite. "To say I am disappointed in you would be an understatement. It seems that we have a great deal more work to do." Mrs. Temple allowed her words to take effect, gratified to see that Charles had at least had the grace to blush. "Shall we begin? Remove your clothing young man and fold your things neatly on the sofa."
Charles undressed completely and placed his clothes as instructed. Mrs. Temple noted with interest that he had grown a little and that his slim, still boyish body was still nicely tanned from a recent holiday.
"Stand upright boy. Hands by your sides," ordered Helen, curtly.
Mrs. Temple removed her jacket and came towards him. Charles noticed that her tight, red latex blouse was sleeveless and her leather gloves full length, reached almost to her shoulders. As Charles knew well, these were Mrs. Temple's famous "spanking gloves"; black, beautiful and shiny, made from the finest glacΓ© kid and responsible for turning many a bottom, including his own, from pure white to deepest crimson.
Mrs. Temple moved closer to him. In her stiletto heels she was three or four inches taller. As her face came near his own Charles inhaled the mix of expensive perfume, leather, rubber and cigarette smoke familiar from his education. Although 55 years old, Mrs. Temple was still devastatingly attractive. Her high cheekbones and full lips were accentuated by the heavy make-up, her bust and legs strained against tight latex and leather.
Mrs. Temple slowly reached out a leather gloved hand and cupped Charles' balls in her palm, looking down at him. The young man's penis swelled and stiffened at the touch of her gloves. Such a joy to play with a responsive boy, thought Helen.
"My we are a naughty little boy, aren't we?" Her voice was deep and full of amused menace. Charles felt his penis become even harder in his Governess' palm. "Such a naughty boy." Mrs. Temple ran a gloved finger along the hard shaft. The youth could feel her varnished nails through the leather, toying with his glans. "And what do naughty boys require Charles?"
"P-P-Punishment Madam." Charles stuttered, his mouth dry with arousal
"Yes, that's right. Naughty boys require punishment don't they?" continued Mrs. Temple. "Punishment and discipline. Strict discipline is the only way to teach a certain kind of boy isn't it? A boy who does not do what he is told. A boy who is disobedient. A boy who cannot control his stiff little penis." Mrs. Temple squeezed his cock to emphasise her words. "I think a good spanking is required Charles. In fact I'm sure of it. I think you need to spend some more time across Madam's leather skirt learning how to behave. Don't you Charles?" As she spoke Mrs. Temple continued to play with Charles' erect cock and balls, revelling in her complete dominion over him.
"Y-Y-Yes Madam. I think I need a good spanking."
"Yes you do Master Leyton. So it's just as well I'm wearing my spanking gloves isn't it young man? It has obviously been too long since your bottom received a warming and you have forgotten what I taught you."
For Charles the ecstasy induced by the touch of the soft black leather on his cock was almost unbearable. Now his Governess moved her fingers to his nipples, both already rock hard. The feel of her leather gloved fingers on his nipples was electric, sending shivers of pleasure through his cock. Mrs.Temple moved even closer to him as she spoke, brushing her latex covered breasts against his chest. Charles looked at Helen's thick red lips, intoxicated by the sweet smell of her make-up and perfume. He glanced at the swelling of his Governess' full breasts, her own erect nipples pushing against the shiny latex, and then bowed his head once more.