A Note to His Teacher

[This story includes significant discipline. If any of this offends you, please read no further. All characters are over 18.]

The study date with Beverly turned out to be a whole lot of fun. She lived in a nice, comfortable house not even all that far from us. I'd always dreamed of being invited to spend time with her in her bedroom, no less. She had a really cool room--not girly and pink, none of that--it reflected her eclectic interests.

She started talking about lots of things we'd learned in classes that year and how excited she was to be going to college next year. When I told her I wasn't sure where to apply, she encouraged me to try for some really top-level places. I began thinking that if I really tried and did well on my boards, I could swing it. I was 19 years old. Sp were Bev and Amy, my girlfriend. My grades had not been that bad and now that I'd gotten rid of Miss Kaden's nasty F...

I spoke to Miss Kaden after class the next day and asked her if I could talk to her about where I should apply for college and also about her writing me a rec. She grinned and told me to come back when classes were over for the day.

When I did return to her classroom, she said that we should leave the school so we could really discuss this privately. She led me out the door--about everyone had left for the day--and got into her little Alfa Spider, waving me to get in on the passenger side. I figured it couldn't get better than riding in this fantastic car with her.

"I hope I don't get you in trouble being here like this," I told her.

She laughed and said, "They're not going to fire me for giving a student a ride."

She came up to the garage door of a fancy apartment building, opened it with her electronic key, and soon we had taken an elevator from the garage right up to her place. It was impressive, not too huge, but so tastefully furnished. There was a huge painting of her on the living room wall--I was taken aback, mostly with surprise, because she didn't have a stitch on in the portrait.

"Do you like my picture?" she asked, still grinning. "I figure you're naughty, Jack, just like I am when I'm on my own time. Of course, I'll write you a recommendation. I'd like you to go to someplace good--don't get stuck on Harvard or Yale, but I'll write enough to get you into someplace like Swarthmore or even Stanford if you want to go to California."

This was all a blur to me. I'd never thought that much about colleges, figuring the state university would be fine. I told her that I hadn't thought about those places because my family wasn't rich.

"You'll get financial aid, unless your dad is a lot better off than I expect he is," she replied. "You have to up what you want to aim for, Jack. I'm afraid you don't have the attitude you need yet. Not cocky but more assured. Now drop your trousers and underpants, boy. You're getting a spanking."

This did surprise me, but Miss Kaden seemed able to do that to me, so I did what she said. She had me over her lap and started spanking me on my bare bottom, hard. She had a strong hand and it hurt. I started crying out. She gave me a few more spanks and then told me to get up.

"How did you feel when I caned you in class?" she asked. "You seemed cooler than I expected, and I was really wondering why your mother thought you needed to be caned. You have to understand that I enjoy caning boys like you, especially because you got hard. Now get down between my legs and show me you appreciate what I'm doing for you."

I let my trousers come off, followed by my underpants, and yes, she saw my hard-on standing at attention. She smiled as I crawled down between her legs and found myself staring at her white panties. I could see that they were wet. I started licking them and took in the incredible feminine smell and taste. She reached down and pulled them to the side after I had gotten a good whiff of her.

"Start licking," she ordered. "You know where."

I approached her hairy split with my tongue. It was actually pretty, and it smelled great. Boy, all I could think of was maybe she'd let me fuck her. I couldn't believe that all I had hoped for was that she'd let me see her panties.

She tasted incredibly good; with that incredible taste I was just beginning to appreciate that can emanate from a gorgeous woman's cunt. I got so into licking her that I was surprised again. She let out a little jet of pee and I just tried to swallow it like her cunt juices I had been savoring.

"Do you think I look like the painting portrays me down there?" she asked, which was sort of a silly question because I was licking her in the dark under her skirt.

I came up for air and said that she tasted wonderful.

"You haven't had the occasion to taste all that many girls down there, Jack, have you? Now tell me the truth," she asked me with a funny look as if she had found me out.

"No, Miss Kaden," I answered, "I haven't, but I sure hope that they taste as good as you do."

"Oh, you're sweet," she laughed. "But I always want to hear the truth from you. Telling the truth is a good habit. I think it was Mark Twain who said, 'No real gentleman will tell the naked truth in the presence of ladies.' Do you want to see me naked? Then take off the rest of your clothes."

I had no choice but to do just what she said. This was more amazing than I ever could have dreamed. I was now standing naked and watching this fantastic, shapely blonde woman in her late 20's unbuttoning her crisp white blouse and then unhooking a lacy bra. She unzipped her stylish navy skirt and after she slipped off her shoes and unrolled her thigh-hi hose, she was now prancing before me in her shiny white panties.

She moved over in front of me, reached down and took my erect cock in her hand. She squeezed it on the top, but it didn't really hurt. Her touch was such a turn-on that I must have let out involuntarily a drop or two of precum. I had done that when I made out with my first girlfriend, and yes, when I got into a nice hug and makeout session with her. But then I was spending much more time (and effort) feeling her up and fingering her, too. The best part about that was that she clearly liked it: she got hot and wet and started moving her midsection. I think I did bring her off a couple of times.

We never have gotten much farther than that. She didn't seem to want to touch me down there at all. I did have a nice kiss and some hugging with Bev, though. I wasn't really thinking about any of that, though, when I was standing there in my birthday suit with a nude Miss Kaden. I can't tell you how incredibly gorgeous she was; she was just perfection--her tits were amazing, well, you can get the picture. I was staring at two of them: the painting and the real article.

"Come into my bedroom," she said, more an order than an invitation. When we were there, she sat me on the side of the bed, then she lay down on her back, and lewdly, spread her legs. "Caress my breasts," she directed. I bent over and began to pet her beautiful, perfectly-shaped orbs--well, I thought boobs at the time.

They felt smooth and warm. I teased the nipples which grew hard as I touched them. All the time, Miss Kaden kept smiling at me. "What would you like to do now?" she said. Then she added, with a lilt in her voice, "This is a test, Jack."

I said plainly and tried to sound sure of myself, "I'd like to kiss you, Miss."

"That's right," she said with a broad smile. "Go ahead."

I moved over so I was lying right next to her. I put my arms around her and moved so I could have my face above hers; then I went ahead and kissed her on the lips. She tasted nice and was kissing me back. In fact, she was pressing her tongue into my mouth. I had heard and read about this: it was called "French kissing." I responded by pushing my tongue towards hers.

She responded by clasping me around my upper torso as we embraced. It was a long kiss. We finally broke off and she pointed down between her legs. "I want you to finish what you started there," she said plainly.

I assumed she wanted me to get between her legs and use my tongue to arouse her. In the back of my mind, I was thinking that she was already pretty aroused, but I remembered that women take longer. So, I did what I was told to do by my teacher. I was between her wonderful legs and began applying my mouth and tongue to her pussy. I moved up and down her labia and I stuck my tongue into her vaginal opening but quickly moved back up her vulva to tickle her clit--her pleasure button--with my tongue, very, very gently.

She purred with pleasure and satisfaction as my tongue touched her pearl. She started moving her midsection and even bucking a bit. Then I went back and pressed my tongue inside her. The taste was sweet and almost overwhelming. I wanted to be inside her vagina. She pulled my mouth back to the front, back to her clit. Now it was a lot bigger, and it looked redder. I dabbed at it, and I felt her shake and move her bottom around. Then she popped. I could tell she was having an orgasm.

She sighed, moaned, and spread her legs even wider. Her whole cunt looked so enticing to me. "Go ahead," she whispered. "Put it inside me, now!"

I carefully climbed atop her and held myself off her, maintaining my weight on my arms. Then I reached down with one hand and guided my erection into her very wet vaginal opening. I was amazed that I slid right in. I moved in and started to reverse and slide out.

"Don't go all the way out," she advised. "Keep doing what you're doing. Move in and out of me."

I did what I figured she wanted. I was thrusting and moving out and back in as deeply as my cock would go. Her vaginal walls pressed in on me. It was warm in there and I was truly afraid now that I would go off and then wilt and disappoint her. I tried to control my ardor. I didn't think about this was the most marvelous woman to let me have my first fuck with her.

But it was useless. It just felt too good and soon I erupted and emitted a lot of my cum deep inside her. Then I suddenly felt bushed and felt my prong slip out of her. It was now beyond my control.

She sighed and focused her eyes on me. "I figured you wouldn't last too long," she told me, "but you were good while you lasted. Now lick what you put in me as it flows out."

I moved back between her legs and placed my mouth on her vaginal opening. My fluid was indeed flowing out, but it was mixed with her own juices. I had to admit that it tasted great. If this was doing the service to her of licking up our creampie, I loved it. Soon, things calmed down. I saw that she had laid a towel underneath her torso, so that anything that kept leaking out of her would drip onto it.

She told me she was going to the bathroom which was right there to clean herself up. She told me I could get dressed while she performed her ablutions. She left the door open, so I heard her sit on the toilet, and it was super-hot for me to hear her peeing into the bowl. She had taken some of her clothes with her and I could see her putting her panties back on, and then her bra and finally her blouse and skirt. She washed her face and applied some cosmetics as well as brushing her hair.

I stopped listening and trying to see what little was visible, but the sounds of her zipping up her skirt was exciting in itself. I went out into the living room where I had shed my clothes and quickly put them back on.

I sat down out there in a comfortable chair and awaited her return. That occurred sooner than I expected. She walked in as if nothing had happened since I had arrived with her.

"You will never mention anything about what just happened to anyone," she said in stern tones. "Do you understand that? You have been very privileged. I've taken a liking to you, Jack, but this is over. I already could be in major trouble, and you would not be free from problems. I need to hear you say that you will not speak or convey anything about this to anyone."

I said just what she wanted. I said she had been incredibly kind to me, and I loved her just for that.

She smiled and asked me if I was pleased to have been given the chance to see her panties.

I chuckled and said I was, but that I was grateful to her for how she had initiated me. I admitted that although I had made out with my girlfriend, I had never gone all the way before. I said that I was in debt to her and would do whatever she asked me.

"I will not treat you differently from any other student in my classes," she said. "You will be fully prepared to be called on and I expect you to be a model student. I will speak with you, at school, about your college applications and I will write recommendations for you. You will study harder than you ever have, and you will fully prepare to take the College Boards soon when it's time to take them. You can tell your parents, your mother I would assume, that I have offered to help you apply and be accepted."

"Can you live with that?" she asked me. "Don't expect me to allow you to do what I permitted and, yes, I enjoyed, again. It can't happen and it won't happen. In fact, when you slip up, and I know you will, I will not lower your grade, but I may spank or cane you."

"What do you mean?" I asked her. "What do you expect me to do?"

"I'm fairly sure you will say something stupid in class," she responded. "You will give me an excuse to discipline you. I'm not referring to the promise you made to me. You will not ever say anything about what happened here today."

After that day, I began to study like I never had before. I did keep playing on the soccer team and even become more active in a couple of school clubs. In my other classes, I now worked hard on projects and assignments. Some of this was tough and I was up late at night with both homework and study for school exams and the Boards.

Our school enforced strict discipline. Parents had agreed to it and teachers did not stand for any misbehavior. Most of them paddled when they decided you deserved some punishment. Paddling's impact was vitiated by their always doing it over your clothing. A few teachers, mostly younger women, styled themselves as really strict: they used their canes and sometimes spanked over their laps. In both instances, the punishment was always given on the bare bottom, girls as well as boys.

As it happened, despite what she said, Miss Kaden never spanked or caned me again. I just made sure I never got her angry at me. Sometimes I got in trouble with other teachers, though. None of them wrote notes to my mother and none of them failed me. Miss Benton was about the same age as Miss Kaden, and taught physics. She was petite, had black hair, and her face sometimes grew red when she was angry. Strangely, when she did become annoyed and then angry, she seemed that much more attractive. This happened often because she had a short fuse. I had forgotten about that when I took her on for how she questioned me. After all, she was very demanding, and I lost my temper when she came at me with a fusillade of questions.

It became very quiet, and she told me to bend over her desk and drop my trousers and underpants. I was amazed but not shocked. She picked up a thin cane from the credenza behind her desk. Then as the rest of the class watched, she gave me six of the best. Miss Benton was as adept at wielding her cane as Miss Kaden had been. The strokes stung and the hurt lasted. I was surprised but too pained to give it much thought.

Others were punished similarly by her, by Miss Kaden, and by several other teachers. To me, the wildest part about Miss Benton's caning was that my still-amazing friend Bev came to my defense. After I was caned, Bev raised her hand and said very testily, "Miss, Jack was just arguing his reason for giving you an answer that you just didn't want to hear."

The class was dead silent. I'd never heard a student challenge any teacher in our school. Miss Benton told Bev, "Jack has been punished because he went beyond arguing to loudly declare that my question was idiotic." She then lowered the boom which would subsequently lower Bev's panties.

"Come up here now, Beverly, and place your hands across to hold on to the other side of my desk," she intoned. The class was taken by surprise because Bev was not one to challenge a teacher as she did--until now. I was embarrassed because this popular girl who had gone out of her way to support me when I was caned was now going to get it but good.

Bev calmly walked up to Miss Benton's desk and did what she had been ordered to do. Miss Benton stepped behind her and unceremoniously lifted her skirt right above her waist and kept it there by sticking the skirt under Bev's belt. Then her fingers went into the waistband of Bev's dazzlingly striped panties and pulled them down to mid-thigh. She gave Bev the humiliating instruction to place her legs as far apart as the panties at her thighs would allow.

Now, every eye in the class was focused on Bev's pretty bottom. The boys were quiet because they were too enthralled by being able to see between her legs. Bev had plenty of hair there, but her vulva did protrude as seen from the rear, as I've found is often the way girls' private parts appear when viewed from behind. I don't think it was half as embarrassing for her anus to be exposed, but it certainly was.

Miss Benton was intent on embarrassing Bev as much as possible, but Bev's amazingly almost nonchalant attitude frustrated the infuriated teacher. She placed her cane on Bev's bottom, tapped it lightly a few times, then delivered a powerful stroke that must have stung Bev terribly. She followed it quickly with a series of three sharp strokes, which had Bev in tears. I felt for her. Miss Benton was being especially nasty. She would strike with strokes all over Bev's bottom, aiming often at the sensitive crease between bottom and thigh; these strokes must have been awful, and Bev screamed.

Miss Benton applied strokes in no particular order or interval. She might deliver a hard stroke across the middle of Bev's bottom cheeks, wait a bit, and then fire two quick ones. She ended up giving Bev about nine strokes in total, which ranked as very severe, even in our strict school where discipline was frequently imposed. I had to tell her about being caned by Miss Benton, but there was no note, and my mom didn't seem overly concerned.

Being paddled over my pants was not a big deal although it was still painful. My mother was pleased at how I was applying myself and figured, she said, that being caned that time by Miss Kaden had done a lot to get me to focus on what I was doing.

I never stopped thinking about the day I got to fuck Miss Kaden. I didn't tell anyone about it, and I didn't want to boast about it to anyone. I did get closer to Amy, my girlfriend, and we spent weekend nights in her family's rec room, which was where, one night when her family was away, she went all the way with me.

It wasn't the same as it had been with Miss Kaden. I carefully unbuttoned and removed her blouse, then unzipped and slid her skirt off. I took off my shirt and trousers and was in my tee and shorts; she had her own lacy bra on and some sexy panties she wore for the occasion.

I took off the tee shirt and pulled down my shorts and when they were all the way off, I reached over and somehow managed to unhook her bra without a lot of trouble. I had been worried about that. Then I pulled her panties down, she slipped them off, and I took her in my arms and held her tight as I kissed her deeply.

She kissed me for a long time and then I began sucking her tits and teasing them with my fingers. She reached down to touch my cock, which was already erect. She ran her finger down my scrotum and patted my balls. Then she ran her nail up my shaft and that was an incredible turn-on. I had her lie back on the couch so I could lick her between her legs. She told me that that didn't turn her on, but she was very wet and ready to have me inside her.