Continued from: New Boy At School
Face scarlet with shame Paul sped down the school corridor hardly looking where he was going.
Suddenly he collided with a woman hurrying the other way sending the books and papers she was carrying flying in a sudden snowstorm.
“I’m so sorry” Paul was genuinely distraught as he bent to help gather up the scattered work. “It’s OK” she smiled at him again, “you’ve had a difficult day”.
Paul regarded the pretty smile of the youngest teacher he had met in the staff room warmly, despite remembering how hard she had spanked him earlier.
“Let me buy you coffee” he offered impulsively and was delighted when she agreed.
Papers gathered up, they walked outside together and with few words strolled down to the nearest coffee shop to the school. Not until both were settled at a quiet table with a latte and a cake did conversation resume.
“It is Miss Smith isn’t it?” Paul hoped he’d remembered correctly. “Yes it is, but call me Emily please”, she beamed at his recognition.
“How long have you worked here? Can you tell me about my predecessor?” Paul was suddenly insatiably curious.
“I’ve been here two years” Emily explained, “last year Mr Moore, Mike, joined us. He was nice. I liked him. He didn’t last the year though.” “What happened?” Paul wondered if he really wanted to know.
“He left. He wasn’t prepared to bend over to Miss Thompson any more. It must have been awful. He wouldn’t tell me all the details but he’s not a teacher any more either and I’m pretty sure that’s because of her.”
Paul wondered what had happened. It seemed the headmistress’ threats had some weight behind them.
They sipped their coffees in companionable silence for a while. “You didn’t get the drinks wrong you know…”
“What?” Paul looked confused.
“This morning, Miss Thompson, she did ask for tea but it wouldn’t have mattered what you gave her. You were going to get spanked anyway.” Emily explained.
“You seemed quite keen to join in” Paul retorted, attempting but failing to keep a hint of bitterness out of his voice. “Yes”, there was a long silence.
“Why?” he sensed she was holding something back.
“I told you about Mike. Well he was the new boy, and she pulled the same trick on him last year. I refused to spank him. It didn’t seem fair. Miss Thompson made both of us wish I hadn’t.” “How?” Paul couldn’t help but ask.
Emily’s cheeks coloured and she looked down into her coffee. When she spoke her voice was quieter than ever.
“She called both of us to her office that evening. She made it quite clear that refusing to comply would be the end of our careers. Then she made me watch while she caned Mike, six hard strokes. Then she gave me the same. Then”, Emily’s voice trembled as she struggled to describe the scene, “she insisted that one of us cane the other, another six strokes. We could choose which it was to be or she would choose for us”. She paused, hands twisting with emotion, “Mike insisted” she admitted quietly, “that I cane him. I tried to be gentle. Miss Thompson said it wasn’t enough. She made me go on until he screamed.”
She looked up at him with tearful defiant eyes. “So, yes, I spanked you. Do you see now why I did?”
“Yes” instinctively Paul reached to hold her fingers, “yes, I do. Thank you” his voice was gentle and he felt the hand in his relax a little.
The silence was broken by a chuckle.
“Well, well, well. If it is isn’t our new teacher socialising with a colleague” Miss Thompson was looking down at them both with a smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten our little chat earlier” she went on a little too cheerily, “I’d hate to have to restore discipline so soon”.
Paul flushed as he sat there. “No, Miss Thompson” he assured her meekly.
“Good, good” the headmistress breezed by with a satisfied smile.
Emily looked at Paul quizzically, the question on her face obvious. Paul’s face coloured as he remembered the meeting in the headmistress’ study. Still, Emily had told him of her ordeal, so he swallowed hard and told her what had happened. When he had finished Emily’s face was all sympathy and dawning realisation.
“Oh, maybe that’s why Mike would never…” her face coloured as she realised she may have said too much. Paul squeezed the hand he still held gently.
“I think we both need to tread gently around Miss Thompson for now. I don’t suppose you’ll have coffee with me again though?”
Emily smiled a slightly sad smile, “Of course I will Paul” she assured him. With that she gathered up her things and wished him goodnight.
Paul sat in the coffee shop watching her retreating back. She was lovely, pretty and kind. He wondered how much of a friendship they could have before Miss Thompson would step in. Shivering slightly he too gathered up his marking and headed home.
The next day was uneventful. So much so that Paul might even have thought that his first day had been a dream.
At break time though it was clear that Paul was still expected to make the drinks. Emily put in her order with the rest and it would be hard to be sure that there was an extra smile hovering on her lips as she did so; nor that Paul offered her drink with a slight flourish and an imperceptible nod of the head.
The following day they passed in the corridor.
Paul smiled, Emily smiled back.
“Coffee, after school?” he suggested.
“I’ll meet you there”, she replied and with that was gone to whatever lesson she had next to teach.
Paul’s day continued to go well and he was actually humming as he walked down the corridor into his next encounter.
“Paul” the headmistress’ voice broke his reverie, “straight after school, my office”.
He looked up startled, “Yes, Miss Thompson” he replied. Walking away he cursed under his breath, he could only hope Emily would understand and perhaps wait in the coffee shop long enough for him to join her.
Paul racked his brains that afternoon to think what breach of school rules he might have committed; he could think of none but was expecting some form of discipline nonetheless.
Paul hurried to the headmistress’ office when school was over. He had not seen Emily since he had been ordered to this meeting and he hoped that promptness and obedience might keep it brief enough to enable him to still make his appointment for coffee. He knocked on the door and entered in response to the answering summons.
Miss Thompson smiled at him from behind her desk. In front of it sat Emily who looked startled at his arrival.
“Come in, come in” Miss Thompson urged, “you know Miss Smith of course”, Paul could do nothing but nod politely in her general direction. What on earth could be happening.
“I thought she might enjoy seeing what kind of man you are” the headmistress continued, “you don’t object I’m sure?”
“No Miss Thompson”, Paul muttered. Glancing towards Emily he could only hope that his obedience would prevent the headmistress from tormenting the woman sitting so quietly in front of her. He was ordered to the desk and he went meekly.
“Remove your belt” a hand was held out for it and he supplied it without hesitation.
Next he lowered his trousers and underpants as requested and bent himself obediently over the desk. He didn’t dare look at Miss Smith’s face as he stood so exposed.
Miss Thompson walked around the desk still holding his belt. She said nothing to him as she swung back her arm.
The first stroke landed and Paul yelped. There was nothing to be gained by bravery, perhaps he hoped he could avoid extending the torment if he showed how much it hurt.
The belt snaked through the air a second time and again he allowed his distress to show. He hoped Emily was not too upset by this display. He could bear this easily if she was alright.
The third stroke cut across his thighs breaking his train of thought. He held himself still, he would take whatever pain was required.
The fourth stroke made him gasp. He became aware of his body’s reaction to the pain and flushed at the thought that Miss Smith might have noticed, still he did not dare to look at her.
The fifth stroke was sweet torture. He bent further, unconsciously offering himself to the next blow.
The sixth cut sharply across him and he cried out again but he held position still.
Paul was faintly disappointed when no more blows fell. He remained bent over and awaited orders. Miss Thompson’s hand stroked across his ass, where the belt had fallen.
“Good boy” her voice was soothing, “now thank me for punishing you and beg to show me your gratitude.” Paul repeated the words obediently not sure what he was asking for.
“Your cock betrays you boy. Show me how much you love being beaten. Make yourself cum. Miss Smith and I will watch you.”
Paul finally dared shoot a glance towards Emily. She was looking at him, at his erection which could scarcely be hidden from her view. She looked eager, her tongue shooting out to lick her lips as she watched. Unconsciously, she seemed to be willing on his display.
Paul swallowed hard and obediently grasped his firm member in his hand. Miss Thompson had made it clear that she expected it to be at her disposal, and this was what she had meant. He began to work his hand up and down it firmly, excited at being so exposed.
No, no, surely this was shameful, awful, wrong. This was not what he wanted, not at all. He groaned helplessly as his spunk shot across the floor towards Miss Smith who watched him fascinated at his disgrace.
“Get dressed Paul. Miss Smith could you wipe the floor please” the headmistress demanded.
Emily produced a tissue from her pocket and bent down to wipe the sticky mess from the floor. She looked up slightly at Paul and smiled as she did so. One finger slipped inside her mouth for a moment as she rose. Then she turned and deposited the paper in the bin beside the desk.
“You may both go” they were peremptorily dismissed.
“Yes Miss Thompson” they chorused.
Paul held the door for Emily as they left the office each suddenly unable to say a word to the other.
Continued in: A Home Visit