Discipline

It was all Michelle could do not to laugh out loud as she made her way to the Headmistress's office. She had worked it all out. Her behaviour for the year hadn't been the best and she'd already had several detentions. According to the school rules she would now be suspended for a couple of days.

Michelle's parents had appointments for the next couple of days so they wouldn't be around to supervise. It was going to be a case of hullo, concert. She had her ticket already, and it had cost her plenty. All she'd needed was a reason not to be at school and a suspension fit the bill neatly.

Pausing outside the office Michelle managed to put on a contrite look and knocked.

On entering, Michelle found the Headmistress regarding her with the sort of look usually reserved for checking your shoe when you step in something soft and squishy. She didn't beat about the bush making her displeasure known.

"You never seem to learn, do you, Michelle?" she snapped.

"I'm sorry Mrs Frobint," said Michelle, apology oozing from every pore. "I just get carried away at times. I don't mean to cause trouble."

"Matter of opinion," retorted the Headmistress. "You seem to go out of your way to get into trouble at times. One would think you'd have learnt that there are consequences.

You do realise that you're not eligible to just get a standard detention, don't you?"

"Yes, Mrs Frobint," sighed Michelle, while mentally punching the air and shouting YES.

"Normally in a situation like this we would just hand out a suspension of a day or two," continued Mrs Frobint, "but in this case we've encountered a problem."

"No, no, no, no, no," screamed Michelle internally. "No problems, please. I've worked this out thoroughly."

"Ah, problems, Mrs Frobint?"

"It seems that your parents won't be able to supervise you at home for the next couple of days. I suggested that just staying home by yourself should suffice but they disagreed. I then suggested that we suspend you for the first two days of next week."

Michelle felt sick. "Not next week. Tomorrow, I need tomorrow," she screamed to herself. It couldn't go wrong now. It just couldn't.

"Your parents were not too enthralled with that idea, either, so we had a further discussion about alternative punishments."

Michelle suddenly deeply distrusted the malicious little smile on Mrs Frobint's face.

"It was your mother who recalled that we still theoretically do corporal punishment here. Both you and your parents agreed to it when you signed off on the school rules. You do remember reading the school rules and the guidelines regarding punishment, didn't you?"

Michelle nodded dumbly. Of course she did. She'd studied them carefully. That's why she knew she'd be getting a suspension this time. Her stomach churned as she recalled the paragraph on alternate punishments.

"So with your parent's permission we have agreed that you should get a good spanking, to be administered by myself. By a stroke of good fortune I still have the old paddle we used to use."

A shocked Michelle could only stare in horror as Mrs Frobint reached down and picking up the paddle from where it had been resting, laid it on the desk.

"B-but you can't spank me," protested Michelle. "I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. You'll need my permission."

"We have your permission," pointed out the Headmistress. "Your signing off on the school rules grants us that permission."

Now Michelle really felt sick. She was recalling that little clause that once a punishment had been decided upon and announced the student couldn't revoke permission.

Mrs Frobint was nodding agreeably.

"I see that you do remember the rules and punishments. It's nice to see that our students study them before signing. So many people just sign off on things and express surprise at what they've agreed to."

"When does the spanking take place?" asked Michelle in a very small voice.

"I see no reason why it shouldn't take place right now," she was told. "Deferring it to after school will just leave you fretting about it all day long and spoil your concentration in class. Bend over the desk."

Swearing to herself, Michelle stepped forward and leaned over the desk.

"Put your hands on the desk in front of you," she was instructed. "It will deter you from trying to put them over your bottom and getting your knuckles hit. That would probably hurt worse than the actual spanking."

Gritting her teeth and thinking nasty thoughts about sadistic headmistresses and heartless parents, Michelle did as instructed.

She wasn't too surprised when Mrs Frobint lifted her skirt and tucked the hem into the waist. She'd been expecting that. What she hadn't been expecting was Mrs Frobint's "Tch" of annoyance.

"These," Michelle was told, feeling a hard finger poke her buttock, "are not proper school approved panties and I'm sure you know it."

Michelle had nothing to say to that because they weren't and she did know it. No way was she wearing those awful bloomers that the school recommended.

"To be expected, I suppose" grumbled Mrs Frobint. "I doubt there's a girl in the school who wears the approved bloomers after the first day. I told the school board they were being ridiculous. Bunch of dried up old women, the lot of them."

Michelle almost laughed, hearing Mrs Frobint's opinion of the school board. The seriousness of her situation stifled the laugh at birth. She suspected that laughing would just increase the spanking.

When Mrs Frobint took her panties and peeled the down, Michelle squeaked in alarm.

"Oh, stop being a cry-baby," snapped Mrs Frobint. "You haven't got anything that I haven't and I feel a little embarrassment improves the quality of the spanking and helps drive home the lesson.

Now, are you ready?"

Not having much choice, Michelle nodded, and then squealed as the paddle came down hard on her bottom.

"For goodness sake, be quiet," came the firm command. "We've only just started and I'm not having you bouncing up and down and squealing all the time. Just grit your teeth and consider yourself lucky you won't be missing the test tomorrow."

Lucky? She was getting beaten with a big stick. She was going to be at school for a blasted test and she wasn't going to be going to a concert for which she'd shelled out a hundred dollars for a ticket. Any more luck and they could roll in the undertaker.

Michelle found she was lucky to a certain extent. After only a few hard spanks with the paddle Mrs Frobint's phone rang.

Grumbling, she answered it.

"I thought I wasn't to be disturbed until after I had finished speaking to Michelle," she snapped down the line.

"I see," she continued after getting a reply. "I'll be right there."

Turning to Michelle she explained.

"There has been a slight accident and I need to go and make sure everything is alright. You will remain where you are until I get back, then we will resume this session. I should only be about ten minutes."

As soon as the door closed Michelle was standing up straight, hands rubbing her bottom and practically dancing on the spot.

"Ow, wow, wow," she seethed. "God, that hurts. And she's coming back to finish it shortly. Why me?"

Hearing a noise in the corridor Michelle groaned and hastily bent forward across the desk again, waiting like the good little girl she was not. Just in time, as the door opened and someone entered.

The first inkling Michelle had that something was wrong was when a hand closed over her mound. She'd been standing with her legs separated, giving easy access to her more personal parts.

Before she could open her mouth to protest she felt strong fingers separating her lips and a very large object sliding past them and into her.

Michelle jerked half erect, head spinning around to see who the hell was behind her. Only half erect, because a hand on her back was holding her bent forward while a cock was sliding slowly but smoothly into her.

Twisting around Michelle managed to identify her visitor as Sam Ogilivie, the PE teacher.

"M-Mr Ogilivie. "What do you think you're doing?" she squealed.

For answer, Sam pushed a little further in.

"The way you were bent over I assumed you were waiting for someone to test your virginity," Sam said blandly. "I'm always willing to help in these little things."

"Not so little," thought Michelle, feeling him pushing even deeper. "Just how big was he, anyway?"

"I'm not," she gasped. "All you had to do was ask. Stop it, please."

Sam continued pressing home.

"Don't be silly," Michelle," he chided her. "I've gone this far, I might as well continue."

"Mrs Frobint will be back at any moment," Michelle wailed. "You have to stop this."

"That," said Sam, giving one final little push, "is a chance we're going to have to take. Goodness me. The way you're carrying on anyone would think you didn't want me."

"I don't," squealed Michelle, feeling Sam withdrawing slowly.

She squealed as he drove back in hard.

"Stop it. Stop it now," she wailed.

"Stop worrying about it," Sam said. "You'll find you want it soon enough. Just relax and go with the flow."

Michelle was gasping, feeling Sam thundering back into her again. She had to admit that his cock had certainly seized her attention, but this was still wrong. She was here to be spanked, not fucked.

"Mr Ogilivie, Sam, you have to stop. This is rape and you know it."

"Rape is just a word," said Sam, pumping hard, smiling as he felt Michelle starting to move with him. "Say yes and it's no longer rape. Say no and it's rape again. The word is meaningless. Now be quiet and push against me. If Mrs Frobint is coming back soon we'd better hurry."

To Michelle's despair she found her body moving enthusiastically in concert with Sam. She had to admit that he certainly knew how to use his equipment. He was building her excitement levels and didn't even seem to be trying.

Michelle groaned, swaying back and forth under Sam's powerful lunges. She cursed him weakly as she felt her blouse pulled away from her waistband and a pair of large hands push her bra roughly up off her breasts. The hands then clamped upon her breasts, massaging them and teasing her nipples while he continued to drive into her.

Sam continued to drive into Michelle, moving faster and harder, eager to bring her to fulfilment. She was writhing nicely under him, her bottom bobbing up and down in a familiar rhythm as she responded to his urgent loving. He drove in even harder.

Michelle was gasping, knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop was happening. If pressed, she'd have admitted she no longer wanted it to stop. She knew what was on the way and was quite eagerly bouncing of Sam's cock in her hurry to get it.

Her climax was rushing down upon her and Michelle hastily jammed her hand into her mouth. She would not scream she told herself. Having someone come in to find out why and she would just die. Then she did scream, squeaks emerging from around her hand as she climaxed, shuddering and clinging to Sam's cock as he ejaculated inside her.

Lying there, propped up by the desk, Michelle could sense Sam moving around but was feeling to done in to stir herself. She started when she felt something damp rubbing against her pussy. Twisting to see what was going on she saw Sam was wiping her down with some wet-ones tissues.

Sam gave her a friendly slap on the bottom and left, closing the door behind him. Michelle stayed where she was, leaning over the desk. A sudden thought and she stood, repositioning her bra and tucking in her blouse again. Sighing she leaned back across the desk.

Moments later the door opened and Mrs Frobint entered.

"Ah, Michelle," she said, and Michelle could just hear the laugh in her voice. "Shall we continue?"

Michelle gritted her teeth as the paddle came down hard on her bottom. A few more spanks with the paddle and Michelle had a horrified epiphany.

Each spank was sending little vibrations deep into her. Sam's friendly little visit had left her excited and extra sensitive. The spanking was starting to build on her tensions and excitement and Michelle was very much afraid of what was happening.

"What," she wondered, "is Mrs Frobint going to do when I orgasm while she's spanking me?"