Teacher Training

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Jane's life had come full circle. She was now a fully fledged teacher at her old

school. At the comparatively young age of 23 she was one of few female teachers

in the school and by over a decade the youngest.

So few things had changed that it felt quite strange to be back, not least because

her schooldays here had been something of an ordeal. Indeed as she walked

down the corridor to meet with the Headmaster she was feeling the same

stomach churning anxiety she had as a young girl.

The school was an old fashioned institution and held on to it's archaic principles.

Despite now admitting both boys and girls it still maintained its uniform, its dusty

atmosphere and its discipline.

Walking down the long corridor the sound of Jane's steps on the stone floors

echoed loudly. She found herself tidying her appearance, adjusting her skirt,

smoothing her blouse, rather daringly she undid one of the buttons and adjusted

the open neck. As she neared the Headmasters door, recollections came flooding

back. She remembered standing outside the office waiting to be admitted to the

huge study with its roaring fire. The headmaster, resplendent in his long black

academic gown and a thin wispy cane in his hand. She tried to remember how

many times she'd been here in the past and wondered just how much the

headmaster remembered of her.

Dr. Anthony Winchester had been the principal at Oaklands School for nearly fifteen

years and if truth be known the job had got a little stale. The appearance or more

correctly the reappearance of Jane fellows had been by far the most welcome

surprise for some considerable time. She had lost none of the attractive and

charming demeanor that he remembered so well from several years ago. He

thought back fondly of the evenings he had spent with her as a student at the

school, seldom had the punishment of one of the girls excited him more before or

since. Few of the girls ever willingly submitted to what he considered their right

and proper punishments, even truer now than then. These days, more often than

not a girl had to be restrained before he could go to work with his cane across her

delicate naked bottom. That had never been the case with Jane, to this day he

could feel a stiffening in his cock as he recalled how he used to have her lift her

nightgown to reveal herself, pulled up above her soft white breasts, slim tapered

waist and rounded, gloriously shaped bottom. Her submission to the sting of his

cane, bent forward legs apart or spanked draped across his knee his hand lightly

cupping her breast were some of the most pleasurable experiences of his long

and distinguished career. Since her appointment as a junior house mistress he

had been in a state of unbearable excitement just imagining what had brought her

back.

There were very similar thoughts running through the head of Jane Fellows as she

made her way to the end of the corridor and lightly tapped on the door. She had

hated every minute of her senior years here at the school, she had worked hard,

gained good grades never stepped out of line yet it had been the lazy girls around

her who became the prefects and reaped the benefits, ordering everyone else

around, staying up late chattering when she had to be in her dorm silent. The worst

of course was that she was the one who suffered the weekly visits to the

Headmasters office, it had never seemed fair. She'd have to walk the length of the

long drafty corridors in her white cotton panties and almost transparently thin

nightdress, everyone knowing where and for what she was heading. She thought

back how rather pathetically, she obediently followed every instruction no matter

what, it was for the best she always felt, she always tried to be the archetypal good

girl. She'd lift her nightdress, choke back the tears as her panties were lowered,

bend herself forward in the most obscene posture while the Headmaster and

whoever else he'd invited looked over her most intimate areas. It often took days for

the marks to start to fade, particularly if he used the cane, tapping at her inner

thighs to spread her wider before laying stripes across her bare upturned bottom.

In her senior year she lost count of the number of times she had to make the long

walk to wait at the study door.

"Come," came the bellow from the other side of the door and for the first time in

seven years Jane turned the door handle and entered the Headmaster's study.

"Take a seat my dear, I'll not be a moment."

Jane seated herself in an old upright leather chair in front of the large desk where

the Headmaster was shuffling a few papers. The room was just as she

remembered, large and rather stuffy, a smell of old books lingering in the air. The

fire roared in the same way it had when she'd been stood for the Headmaster and

his cronies to feast their eyes, her night dress lifted high so that the heat scorched

her reddened buttocks, the orange glow of the flames dancing on her naked

breasts.

"And how are you finding things now you are on the other side?" the Headmaster

asked with jovial smile.

"Very good, fine, I mean erm ... everybody is so helpful ..."

Jane stammered her reply while the Headmaster took a moment to admire the

nervous yet strikingly attractive young woman seated before him. She wore a very

conservative skirt and a white blouse that he noted had one too many buttons

undone revealing a glimpse of the tops of her milk white breasts. Her black hair

was long and tied in a pony tail and she wore a pair a dark rimmed and rather

fetching glasses.

"Very good, I've heard excellent things. You understand it is necessary for me to

follow the progress of any new teacher particularly one with little experience and if

you don't mind me saying, and I'm sure you don't, one so young."

"Of course, of course," Jane stammered sitting forward in the chair and crossing her

legs.

"Would you care for a drink?" the Headmaster asked as he rose from his seat and

went towards the decanter of Brandy on the sideboard.

"No, no thank you."

"You don't mind if I take a nip I trust, these chilly evenings, one needs a good fire

and a drop of something to keep out the cold."

As he poured a glass for himself the Headmaster remembered the evenings when

he and his colleagues would pass the decanter around with the young Jane

Fellows displayed in front of the fire. It became something of a sport to see how

lewdly they could have her stand. Her well whipped bottom pushed out roasting in

front of the fire with her hands under her breasts lifting them for all to see. Once he

remembered, he thought it was Jane although couldn't be sure, they had her on all

fours, a glass of brandy delicately balanced on her back her breasts hanging, teats

ready to be squeezed and her legs parted, the soft folds of her most private areas

invitingly visible.

The Headmaster's reverie was broken as Jane shuffled nervously in her seat.

"You'll be wondering why our little meeting this evening I expect." He asked, He

remained stood from where he got a rather better view down the front of Jane's

blouse.

"Well I had thought ..." Jane started to reply feeling a little flustered and slightly

intimidated.

"I'll get straight to the point," the headmaster interrupted before she could continue.

"Discipline, my dear, discipline." He smiled.

Jane felt a familiar knot in her stomach.

"You see, I've taken quite a chance. Appointing you as a junior house mistress,

young as you are, inexperienced as you are and, although it shouldn't be the case,

female as you are. This is a traditional school and there are certain expectations,

first impressions are very important. You understand I'm sure."

The Headmaster stopped to refill his glass. Jane sat silently nervously twisting the

hem of her skirt.

"There are some of my colleagues, although I am not among them, who feel you

have failed to make much of a mark. It has been noted that not one student has

been disciplined in what one might regard as a suitable manner to send the

correct message to the rest of the student body. As you well know this school takes

great pride in its standards and as part of your job we expect you to uphold and

vigorously enforce those very same standards."

"WellI..."

"Let me continue." The Headmaster said firmly. "Pick a student and punish them.

Quite simple. There will always be some minor infraction, it doesn't have to be

anything serious in fact the more trivial the better, show them you mean business."

"i've always tried to be fair," Jane said faintly.

"My dear, fairness is a luxury you can ill afford. Life is not always fair and on

occasions the stronger must make an example of the weak in order to keep things

running smoothly."

There was a pause. Jane knew exactly what the Headmaster was talking about. It

was the reason that she as a model student had endured a weekly thrashing and

the humiliation that followed while others appeared to do as they wished.

A very audible swish snapped Jane out of her thoughts. The Headmaster had

picked up a cane from his desk and theatrically made several flicks of his wrist.

The sound was a trigger for a million feelings to come flooding back into Jane's

mind. Her legs felt weak and the knots in her stomach tightened.

"May I ask if it worries you?"

Jane was not quite sure what the question meant but answered.

"Yes,slightly."

"If you'll permit me to give you the benefit of my experience. The trick is to expect

compliance. Don't for a minute give them the option to refuse. We all deep down

sometimes like to do as others wish."

The Headmaster ran his eyes along the length of the cane.

"For example Miss Fellows I might ask you to stand up."

The Headmaster smiled yet fixed her with a withering stare. Jane understood and

stood.

"I see," she said. "You're right of course, I expect it takes some getting used to."

"We all need to start somewhere. Don't be intimidated. Particularly the boys, they'll

want to get the upper hand, show them you're in charge. Follow the school

procedures, that's what they are there for. Pick some quiet young chap, have him

drop his trousers and give him a few good sharp strokes. News will soon get

round."

"I see," Jane said nervously.

"Of course being a young woman can have both its advantages and problems. It's

not unknown for a young boy to get rather, how shall I put it ..."

Jane shuffled nervously, she felt uncomfortable and couldn't bring herself to look

up.

"... excited." The headmaster added. "Not always a good idea to have them over

your lap unless you want to be cleaning your skirt afterwards." He Headmaster

laughed at his own humour. "You'll get used to such things of course. You know I

think some of our female colleagues quite enjoy their work with the boys."

Jane looked up to see the Headmaster staring at her chest. She began to wish

she hadn't undone the button.

The Headmaster looked on in amusement at Jane's discomfort as she adjusted

her blouse. He started to feel he was beginning to understand his newly appointed

house mistress.

"Would you do me the favour of removing your skirt Miss Fellows?"

Jane knew even before the Headmaster had finished his question, although they

both knew it wasn't really a question, what was about to happen. She suddenly felt

sixteen once again.

"Humour me if you will Miss Fellows. Perhaps this will help you assert yourself, if

you are to get on in this school you must learn. I will say exactly what must happen

and your compliance will show your acceptance of both authority generally and the

school rules in particular, this is what you must expect of your students. Listen

carefully, do as you are told and you may just learn something very important about

the way these things are conducted."

There was a silence as the Headmaster took a sip of his Brandy and Jane slowly

unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor.

"Very good. For this little demonstration you may consider yourself once again the

naughty young girl called to my office. If you'd be so kind as to undo the remainder of

the buttons on your blouse I should like to see you as I most fondly remember.

You were I seem to recall a frequent visitor to this office. In fact I think I still have

some of the snapshots that Mr. Alford used to take, you'll remember him I'm sure.

No longer with us but his artistic legacy remains."

What started to unfold surprised both Jane and the Headmaster although in

slightly different ways. With each instruction Jane lost more and more of her

garments.

The clock seemed to wind back through the years as Jane fellows once again

undressed herself while the Headmaster looked on. With a tap of the cane she

undid the clasp to her bra and stood with her hands covering her pale breasts.

With another tap of the cane she lowered her panties down her slender legs.

If anything Jane looked even more ravishing than he had remembered. Her body

now that of a twenty three year old young woman was undeniably attractive, in fact

in his opinion quite perfect. Her breasts firm and heavy, her slim waist and well

rounded bottom. He wondered what had happened to her in the intervening years,

she seemed to lack a certain worldliness, she had a naivety the Headmaster

found irresistible. She stood shyly trying to cover her nakedness having removed

her clothes with barely a hint of complaint.

"You'll find that in these matters a certain routine can help." The Headmaster

tapped the cane on Jane's hands which she immediately lowered. "You see how

well people respond to the familiar." He smiled.

Like years ago Jane just did as she was told. She pulled her hands away from her

breasts so that he could look at her, she parted her legs when she felt the tap of

the cane and she obligingly bent forward and held the edge of the desk ready to

receive the cane across her bare bottom.

The Headmaster tapped her legs once more so that Jane stood with her feet well

apart, the jewel of her pussy displayed open and inviting. He tapped her shoulders

so that she lowered herself to let her magnificent breasts hang as if she were

waiting to be suckled by eager lips. He stroked the cane across her buttocks. He

was stiff with excitement.

Jane felt the cane touching her, she could feel herself tighten ready for the first

stinging blow. When it came she felt the tears start to flood out, the same tears that

she had felt as a young girl as she'd counted the strokes across her bottom

The Headmaster, rigid with pleasure, watched Jane convulse each time the cane

marked another line across her pale white skin. She cried but each time offered

herself for another stroke, lessons she'd learnt well.

Jane could feel the lines branded across her bottom each one a small submissive

token to the Headmasters authority. Between the strokes she felt his hand

between her legs. She remembered as a young girl how he had explored her to

see if she had had the audacity to enjoy herself. It was all part of the ritual that she

should allow her breasts to be squeezed, her genitals to be stroked. The very

public fondling of her private areas was almost worse than the strokes of the cane.

She could recollect the humiliation of being the show piece in front of the fire as

one man slipped his fingers into her while the others looked on enjoying their

drinks waiting for their turn to inspect the naughty little girl.

After six strokes the headmaster walked around the opposite side of the desk and

cleared away the few papers that lay on the green leather desk top. Jane knew only

too well what was to follow as he opened a desk drawer and took out a small jar.

"Over you go my dear," was all he said.

Jane stood slowly, naked apart from the glasses she still wore magnifying her tear

stained eyes. She stepped forward and and bent over the desk, her breasts

pressed onto the worn leather desktop.

"Good girl," the headmaster encouraged. "If you be so good as to open up. I must

compliment you Miss Fellows on your willingness to learn, your future at this

school looks much brighter."

Jane closed her eyes and with both hands reached back and carefully ran her

hands across her bottom, she felt the marks of the cane before she reluctantly yet

obediently pulled herself apart.

The Headmaster returned to the far side of the desk to gaze at the sight Jane

offered him. It was he thought the most suitable punishment for a naughty girl.

Jane remembered how while she stood in front of the fire the men would use an

old silver coin. The winner getting the pleasure and the privilege of completing her

punishment. It became a ritual for them to humiliate her in this manner, an

honorable school tradition they called it. The evening building up into a climax until

her bottom raw from the cane, would be filled with the sperm of the drunken

winner. A small plug would first be used to open her out. There would be laughter

and more brandy as they greased her and forced the plug into her tight anal

passage. She'd stand with the plug pushed deep in her bottom until the coin gave up

a winner with Jane as the prize.

It was a punishment reserved for the few and to this day the Headmaster couldn't

remember a girl who had been sodomized more often or by more of the honorable

masters of the school than Jane Fellows. A tradition they'd say as though it was an

honour to receive. Caned and then plugged she'd refill the brandy glasses, the

Headmaster and his cronies shamelessly groping her before her final penetrative

humiliation.

Jane had never been able to easily accept the intrusion. It had the Headmaster

remembered been both an erotic and at times a comic sight to watch the young

Jane Fellows, her naked young frame bent forward, knuckles white as she gripped

the edge of the desk, her peach of a bottom painfully speared. She'd beg for it to

stop, unaware that her plaintive moans made the act of penetrating her all the

more pleasurable. It was no different now and it took some considerable time

before the Headmaster breached the tight flower of her anus.

With his rigid cock buried deep in her bottom, tightening with each little stifled

scream Dr. Anthony Winchester could feel his inexorable mounting state of

excitement, Jane Fellows bent and obedient once more learning her lesson. He

had retrieved photographs from the bottom of an old filling cabinet a few days

before. Photographs of a young girl, rather more graphic than he remembered, at

various stages of receiving the traditional Oaklands correction. He wondered if he

still had that old silver coin. Her punishment as a schoolgirl had never been

private, the expression on her tear stained face always a focus of interest to the

select few who'd see each thrust etched across her features all eagerly awaiting

the climactic humiliation as the winner would finally empty himself inside her.

Jane felt herself pushed forcefully against the corner of the desk, she reached

back and pulled herself wider offering herself for his final desperate thrusts. The

spasm of her guts milking the seed from his urgent engorged cock. The flush of

humiliation of the naughty young girl hit her full force as she felt him discharge

himself deep inside her bowels.

It was the Headmasters turn to feel weak at the knees as he completed Jane's

lesson. From head to toe he felt the force of his eruption into her trembling

distended rectal passage, the tourniquet of her sphincter squeezing pulse after

pulse of warm white semen from his cock buried deep in her young, sublime and

obedient arse.

Jane Fellows made her way back down the long dark corridor to her modest

rooms. She wore her blouse and skirt and carried her underwear in her hand, a

dribble of the Headmaster's ejaculate running down the back of her thigh. She

would have looked a strange sight had anyone encountered her.

The Headmaster sipped another glass of Brandy. He smiled as he remembered

how they used to send Jane back to her dormitory, always without her panties, in

fact on occasions without her nightdress, bare feet on the cold stones, red stripes

on her beaten and freshly buggered bottom. Jane Fellows was he thought the

most welcome addition to the school, There were a number of staff he was sure

who'd welcome the chance to take part in a little teacher training.