"I have a visitor popping in at lunchtime tomorrow, Jim. Might you be free?"
It was not always easy to get time off from work, but Jim thought he might be able to manage a long lunchbreak to get home and then back to work with some time for lunch. Well, not quite to home, but to the large house opposite his flat and probably not for lunch either but something else; something no doubt delicious. Jim was certainly minded to do his very best to secure leave for a long lunchbreak. It was clear what Mr Crowfoot meant by a visitor. Someone, more specifically a woman, he would receive in his study and she, in return, would receive his semen. Jim was being invited to make a deposit as well. Quite where depended upon the woman.
"I could do that; who is she?"
Mr Crowfoot smiled and raised an eyebrow. "You like her; but she might be a bit strict with you."
Jim could not help the gasp or the sudden movement within his trousers, a particular and manly swelling, "Not Miss Redmond!"
Miss Rachel Redmond indeed. Jim's old, well not so very old, but sometime teacher; red headed, and to him, gorgeous; a figure of late adolescent lust; a lust that had not abated even after the consummation of boyhood fantasies in that very study. She had been on the Pill and Mr Crowfoot had permitted him to ejaculate within her - do a proper insemination. It had been his first true experience of sexual intercourse, his penis unclothed and not sheathed in latex. He had left his cum inside her.
Mr Crowfoot explained she would be on her way to teach the afternoon's lessons but had asked if it might be a convenient time to return some books Mr Crowfoot had lent her. When books were returned or taken out of the local public lending library they were stamped out and in. Jim was more than excited at the prospect of 'stamping' her, not so much with the date in wet ink, but certainly marking her with something wet - hot and liquid and rather more copious than the ink from a rubber stamp. The idea of her, later on that afternoon, perhaps mere minutes after the deed, standing and teaching geography in the very classroom he had been taught in, but with his semen inside her, filled him with excitement. It would happen on the morrow.
It was difficult to control his impatience to be with Miss Redmond once more. It was fine sitting there and discussing with Mr Crowfoot over the late evening's cocoa, but rather more difficult to slow his mind and get to sleep once in bed. A nice warm wank might have helped but Jim most definitely wished to save his semen for Miss Redmond the next day. Difficult lying there with his hard cock sticking out of his pyjama fly as he thought about her. Perhaps at that very moment she and Mr Bennet, Miss Redmond now properly being Mrs Rachel Bennet, were engaged in coitus. Perhaps she was sucking his cock, had it half in her mouth and was slurping... Jim rolled over and tried to count sheep. It was not good to suddenly find a naked Miss Redmond leapfrogging over them...
Lunchtime the next day found Jim hurrying up Mr Crowfoot's front path. He had the key and was across the hall in no time and knocked on the study door.
Mr Crowfoot was seated at his desk, dressed in a tweed suit with Miss Redmond standing there before him.
"Ah, Costin. Late again I see. What time were you told to be here?"
"Five minutes ago, headmaster," said his ex-teacher and Jim realised he had walked right into a game - a play - a fantasy. He was schoolboy again; Mr Crowfoot the headmaster and gorgeous Miss Redmond the teacher. He felt his cock stir.
"And what other misdemeanours has Costin committed - this time?"
"Late with his homework, late for class and I caught him behind the bike sheds with Ruth and Kay up to no good."
"What was he doing, Miss Redmond?" There was shock on the face of the headmaster, Archibald T. Crowfoot.
"I'd rather not say, sir."
"Whisper it."
Jim watched but did not hear what Miss Redmond was whispering into Mr Crowfoot's ear.
"Six of the best, Costin. Trousers down, on your bare bottom. Bend over the desk."
What would he have thought if really at school? Perhaps one thing as a naughty young boy but in the sixth form, perhaps already eighteen and being made to accept corporal punishment and, moreover, take his trousers down and expose his bottom to Miss Redmond - and, sort of inevitably with his trousers and pants, his cock to Miss Redmond and the headmaster; not a little boy's willy but a grown man's fully developed genitalia, all hairy and large - with the risk of it getting larger.
Jim lowered his trousers and pants and leant across the big desk. Not a hand this time. He had been spanked by Miss Redmond the time before. He had lain across her thighs, his hard penis trapped between them, and received her hand on his vulnerable bottom cheeks - not that he had not spanked her as well. This time it was the cane. No doubt one of those canes Mr Crowfoot had found in the study and had, presumably, been used by his father. Maybe in Mr Crowfoot Senior's diary there were detailed entries about the use of those canes. Perhaps young servant girls thrashed for misdeeds; maybe Dorothea and Patience punished by Mr Soap and Mr Crowfoot Senior, maybe Mrs Soap thrashed by Mr Crowfoot's mother, Annabelle Soap, maybe...
"Ow!"
"Quiet, Costin, take your punishment like a man."
Miss Redmond, was letting him have it. It was not as pretend as it might be. And it was six firm whacks to his bottom.
"Stand up Costin," said the headmaster, "I want two hundred lines on Miss Redmond's desk by Monday, 'I shall not submit my homework late again.' What's that Costin?"
Jim could not help it. Even the smarting of his probably now red bottom, could not prevent him being aroused. Could not help his knob peering out from between the leaves of his hanging shirt, upright and perky.
"My penis, sir."
