Author: Connard Wellingham
Title: The Girls School
Part: Chapter 04
Summary: Adam Hazel finds a new job at an exclusive girl's school where he finds 
things are not quite as they seem...
Keywords: MF, Mf, FF, ff, M+F+f+, F+f+, bdsm, span, oral, cons

The Girl's School
By: Connard Wellingham
Copyright (c) Connard Wellingham 2003

	This story contains what is known as 'adult content', ie sex.  Why one 
should be allowed to read about murder, torture, violence and killing but not 
sex is a mystery to me - but there you go, that's the way it is.  So if it is 
not legal for you to read about sex where you are, or you are deemed too young 
to read about sex or, you find stories about sex offensive - DO NOT READ THIS 
STORY.

	This story is fiction.  This story is FANTASY.  It is intended solely for 
your amusement and enjoyment.  The author would not like to mislead the more 
gullible among you that the world really is as depicted here.  Whether the world 
would be a better place if people did behave as they do in the story is a moot 
point.

	This story can be freely distributed so long as;
	a) neither the distributor nor the recipient make any profit from it,
	b) no words are changed without the author's consent,
	c) the author is credited with being the author,
	d) this warning section is included,
	e) acknowledgment is given to www.asstr.org as being the original source 
of the text.

	The author welcomes helpful comments and can be contacted at 
cwellingham@SoftHome.net.


Chapter 4 - The Punishment (MF sm)

	For the rest of that day, Adam was in bit of a daze and went through his 
teaching duties mechanically.  What was really troubling him was that, deep 
inside, if he was to be brutally honest with himself, part of him was actually 
looking forward to the experience.  He became more and more keyed up and only 
nibbled at his tea.  He kept looking at his watch - partly wishing it was time 
and partly wishing it was all over.

	At a quarter to seven he knocked on Anne's door.  Anne had already got 
preparations well under way.  In a side room off her office a strange wooden 
device was set in the middle of the floor.  It had two supporting posts about 3 
feet apart with two horizontal bars between them.  The lower one was fixed but 
the upper one could be raised or lowered and was heavily padded and covered with 
leather.  From the lower bar, two short spars protruded with hand-grips at the 
ends.  Adam looked at it in puzzlement.

	"I'll explain what happens," said Anne.  "The delinquent enters the room 
and removes her skirt.  She will not be wearing tights or stockings.  Depending 
on the offence, she is sometimes required to remove her pants as well.  She will 
be told how many strokes she is to receive and with what implement will be used.  
She pointed at her desk.  On it was a thick leather strap, a paddle a bit like 
an outsize ping-pong bat, a whip with a short handle and numerous long, fine 
strands and an outsize plastic ruler.  Adam shuddered at the sight of these 
barbaric implements of punishment.

	"She steps up to the 'gate', places her feet on the marks, bends over the 
bar and grips the handles on the far side.  The top bar can be adjusted to 
support her waist.  She is required to keep her feet perfectly still, hold onto 
the handles at all times and to count the strokes.  Failure to do so adds 5 
strokes.  I should add that strokes are to be delivered only to the buttocks.

	"The punishment is designed to be both painful and humiliating - but not 
to cause permanent damage.  As these girls have been flaunting their not 
inconsiderable charms, I think they should be required to remove their skirts, 
pants and blouses.  Let's see how they feel when they really have to show their 
stuff.  I also think we should use the 'tickler' - she picked up the whip-like 
implement.  This stings like fury but doesn't last that long.  We want to 
dissuade them from improper behaviour, not punish them for a major crime.  20 
strokes should be enough.

	"You need the correct action to get the best effect.  Bring it down 
sharply but, just before it hits, flick your wrist.  I'll show you."

	She raised the whip and brought it smartly down.  The multitude of strands 
whistled out behind.  At about waist height, she abruptly jerked her wrist 
upwards.  The strands continued downwards and then changed direction with a 
sharp 'crack' - a bit like flicking a wet dish towel.  It sounded frightful.

	"Now you try."

	Cautiously, Adam raised the whip and took a practise swing.  The effect 
was limp, to say the least.

	"Come on, Adam, but some life into it," Anne scolded.

	After several more attempts, Adam managed to approach the correct action.  
Anne glanced at her watch and then at Adam.

	"OK?  Let's get them in."

	She opened the door and summoned Veronica.  The girl stepped tentatively 
into the room and the gasped as she saw Adam.

	"Ms Henderson," she protested.  "He shouldn't be here.  It's not right."

	Anne looked at her sternly.  "I don't think you're in much of a position 
to object, Veronica.  After all, it was in Mr Hazel's class that you were 
misbehaving."

	"But I didn't do anything," Veronica wailed.

	"You weren't trying to disrupt Mr Hazel's lesson?"

	"No, Miss."

	"Oh?  Tell me how you were dressed today?"

	"In school uniform, Miss."

	"I see.  What sort of shoes did you have on?"

	Veronica looked at the floor.  "Black ones."

	"What sort of black ones?  Describe them."

	"They were just black shoes."

	"You mean they weren't patent leather and they didn't have 4-inch heels?"

	Veronica was silent.

	"Well, Veronica?  Were they the shoes you were wearing today?"

	"Yes, Ms Henderson," admitted Veronica very reluctantly.

	"And what about your skirt?"

	"What about it?"

	"It could be described as short?"

	"Yes, Ms Henderson."

	"Very short?"

	"I, I suppose so."

	"And underneath your skirt you were wearing stockings?  Sheer, black 
stockings?  With a garter belt?  Is that right, Mr Hazel?"

	"I didn't really notice," Adam stammered.

	"And your pants were  - what colour, Mr Hazel?"

	"Black ...  lace," he croaked.

	"And on top, Veronica, what were you wearing?"

	"A white shirt, Miss."

	"And underneath?"

	"Underneath, Miss?"

	"Yes, Veronica.  What were you wearing underneath your white shirt?"

	Veronica stared fixedly at the floor, her face pale.

	"I'm waiting for your answer, Veronica."

	Veronica remained silent, her fingers twisting nervously.

	"Can I take it your silence means that you were wearing nothing under your 
shirt?  You will answer, Veronica."

	"Yes, Miss."

	"Yes, what, Veronica?"

	Veronica looked up in a sudden act of defiance.

	"Yes I was wearing nothing under my shirt."

	"So, Veronica, today you turned up for class dressed in a white shirt with 
no bra, a very short skirt, black stockings and a garter belt, and patent high-
heeled shoes.  Am I correct?"

	"Yes, Miss Henderson."

	"Why did you dress like that?"

	"I dunno.  Because I wanted to, I suppose."

	"You suppose!  The reason you dressed like a tart was, quite simply, to 
provoke Mr Hazel and disrupt his class?  Isn't that so?"

	Veronica stayed silent with bowed head, the toe of her right foot tracing 
small circles on the carpet.

	"Well, Veronica, we're both eagerly awaiting your answer."

	"I suppose so, Ms Henderson," the girl finally, reluctantly admitted.

	"You know that sort of behaviour is unacceptable.  It disrupts Mr Hazel's 
excellent lessons and is not fair on the rest of the class.  If you want to 
seduce Mr Hazel, you must do so outside the classroom."  Both Adam and Veronica 
gasped at this statement.  Adam looked at the girl who gave a him a quick, sly 
glance, then returned her attention to the floor.

	"You will cease dressing provocatively as of now.  To remind you, you will 
receive 20 strokes of the 'tickler'.  Please remove your skirt, pants and blouse 
and take your place.  You, I'm sorry to say, are familiar with the procedure."

	"Please, Ms Henderson, don't make me strip.  I'll take more than 20 but I 
don't want to take my clothes off in front of Mr Hazel."

	"Veronica, you were quite prepared to show off your charms to Mr Hazel 
earlier today so why not now?  No arguments, girl."

	Very reluctantly, and blushing furiously, Veronica began to unfasten her 
skirt and pull it down.  Adam, being a gentleman, stared fixedly at a painting 
of a vase of flowers, trying to remember if it was Van Goch or Gaugin who had 
painted sunflowers, as she slowly and grudgingly stripped.

	"Mr Hazel."  Anne's voice interrupted him.

	He blinked and looked round.  Veronica, dressed only in her white, lacy 
bra was now bent almost double over the whipping frame.  Her small, round bottom 
was high in the air, proffered blatantly for it's abuse.  The muscles in her 
slender legs were tense and trembling from her bent-over position.  The knuckles 
of her hands were white where she gripped the hand-holds and her long, black 
hair trailed on the floor.  Between her parted thighs her labia, covered in 
soft, dark hair, was wantonly displayed.  Adam felt himself grow uncomfortably 
warm.

	Anne handed him the whip.  "Carry on, Mr Hazel."

	Adam cleared his throat.  "Now, Veronica, you know why you are being 
punished?"

	"Yes."  A small voice.

	"Tell me," he said, playing for time.

	"Because I upset you."

	"I'm not upset, Veronica.  That's not why you're being punished."

	"Because I disrupted your class."

	"That's better.  And how did you disrupt the class?"

	Beside him, Anne was nodding in approval.

	"By distracting you."

	"And how were you distracting me?"  Adam was getting into his stride, now.

	"By the way I was dressed."

	"And  ...  A bit more than that, I think."

	"And by letting you see up my skirt."

	"That's better.  Any more?"

	"And letting you look at my breasts."

	Adam was beginning to feel a stirring in his loins and decided he had 
better get on with it.

	"Good.  What are you going to do from now on?"

	"Dress properly."  Veronica paused briefly then continued, "And seduce you 
outside the classroom."

	Anne clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle as Adam flushed.

	"I don't think that's quite the idea," he said, hastily.  "How are you 
going to be punished?"

	"Twenty strokes with the 'tickler'."

	Adam cleared his throat.  This was it.  He couldn't put it off any longer.

	"Remember, Veronica, to count each stroke and keep still," Anne said, 
sternly.  "Five extra every time you miss."

	"Yes, Ms Henderson."

	"Right, Mr Hazel.  In your own time.  Even strokes if you please."

	Adam positioned himself and slowly raised the whip.  He could feel his arm 
trembling.  He looked down at the smooth, round, up-thrust cheeks.  Would he 
have the nerve to go through with it?

	"Whenever you're ready, Mr Hazel," said Anne, sharply, right beside his 
ear.

	Startled, he brought the whip sharply down and, at the last moment, 
remembered to jerk his wrist upwards.  The strands whistled down and flicked 
perfectly against the girl's skin.  They almost seemed to kiss it but she 
flinched and cried, "Ow.  One."

	He raised his arm brought it down again.

	"Oh, ouch.  Two."  

	"Just count, Veronica, and never mind the histrionics," said Anne.

	To Adam the experience took on a dream-like quality.  Here he was, in the 
Head Teacher's study whipping the bare bottom of a lithe and sexy teenager girl.  
As he laid on the strokes, her bottom started to grow first pink, then red.  He 
was not an expert and sometimes the strands laid across the tense flesh and 
sometimes they barely kissed it.  Throughout, the girl kept up a steady count 
and remained rooted to her position, despite the fact that she was sobbing, the 
tears dripping from her eyes.

	After the 20th stroke, Adam lowered his arm and stood back.

	"Right, Veronica.  That will be all.  Get dressed now, please," said Anne.
As the girl straightened, stiff from bending over and sore from the beating, 
Adam suddenly noticed small drops of moisture on the soft brown hair of her 
mons.  He was shocked.  Surely Veronica hadn't found the punishment stimulating?  
What a disturbing thought.  

	The girl pulled on her blouse and skirt - but not her panties - and stood, 
sniffling, eyes downcast, clenching and unclenching her fists at the pain in her 
bottom.

	"You may go, now."

	"Yes, Ms Henderson.  Thank you Ms Henderson.  Thank you Mr Hazel," said 
the girl, almost curtsying.

	"Get some cream from the dispensary, Veronica," said Anne as she opened 
the door to usher Veronica out and Melanie in.

	They same procedure with Melanie - with almost the same result.  At first 
the girl denied any wrong-doing but finally admitted, when pressured, that she 
had been deliberately exposing herself to Adam in class.  She, too, was told to 
strip to her bra.  Unlike Veronica she made no objection but, after a sly look 
at Adam, quickly removed here skirt, blouse and panties.  Melanie was more 
developed than Veronica; rounder and with a fuller figure.  Her breasts swelled 
up from the confines of her white bra, her hips were broader and her bottom 
rounder.  She took her place at the 'gate' and Adam definitely felt his cock 
stir at the sight of her rounded bottom sticking up into the air with the plump 
peach of her mons with its covering of red hair exposed below.

	Adam raised his arms and laid on the first stroke.  Melanie hissed as the 
strands bit into her tender flesh and clenched the cheeks of her bottom but 
otherwise made no sound except to count "One".  She repeated this at every 
stroke.  It was an incredibly erotic sight - the young girl bent over the bar, 
squeezing and relaxing the cheeks of her bottom.  Adam's cock grew stiffer and 
stiffer.  He also became aware that Melanie was definitely being turned on by 
his ministrations as the lips of her pussy softened and moistened.  He realised 
that she was increasing the sensation by squeezing her vaginal muscles as she 
clenched her bottom.

	By the end of the twenty strokes, he was red and sweating - a fact not 
unnoticed by the girl who gave him a sly, knowing look as she put on her blouse 
and skirt.  To his bewilderment, Anne, too, seemed to be affected by the 
performance.  She was breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling 
noticeably beneath her formal, white shirt and she had trouble controlling her 
voice as she dismissed the girl.

	~~~~~~~

	If Melanie had a good figure, Felicia had a outstanding one.  She was also 
brazen and made no attempt to deny the offence.  Her only comment was that 'he'd 
enjoyed looking'.  Indeed it was Felicia who had troubled Adam the most.  She 
had been the most shameless in class and it was she who most frequently haunted 
his night-time erotic fantasies - Felicia with her pouting lips wrapped round 
his cock; Felicia lying with her legs wide apart begging him to fuck her blonde 
snatch; Felicia moaning and writhing in the throes of ecstasy as he pumped his 
cum into her.  The problem was that she was sexy and she knew it, played on it.  
She had the classic 'look but don't touch' demeanour.  In short, she was a 
tease.

	She removed her clothes without comment.  In fact 'stripped' would be a 
better description for her manner verged on the  impertinent as she unfastened 
her blouse and let it slip slowly from her shoulders and smoothed her hands down 
her thighs before unzipping her skirt with one hip thrust out.  Adam was very 
aroused and felt sure the girl knew it - and knew just what effect she was 
having on him.  He was having difficulty breathing as she bent herself over the 
bar with a provocative wiggle of her perfect, twin globes.

	As Anne positioned the waist bar and he noticed she gave the globes a 
surreptitious caress.

	He took his position and raised the whip with a trembling arm.  His first 
blow was ineffectual and the strands just laid across the girl's bottom without 
any force.

	"Mr Hazel," said Anne sharply.

	"Sorry," he muttered.

	His second stroke was perfect.  The lash whistled down, his wrist flicked 
at exactly the right moment and the strands flicked across the tense, rounded 
cheeks.  The girl moaned, but not just with pain, and rotated her buttocks, 
seductively.  He applied another blow with the same result.  Amazingly, Felicia 
was actively enjoying this.

	Suddenly, something inside Adam snapped.  He would stop the teasing.  He 
would break through that conceited, arrogant, sexy veneer and make her feel.  
This time he brought his arm down with more force and flicked the whip up with a 
sharper snap.  The strands cut across the perfect flesh with definite bite and 
the girl jerked and whimpered.  He struck again and she cried out - not with 
pleasure but in real pain.  This was not fun any more.  Adam felt a surge of 
glee.  He was winning.  He was getting through to her.  For the first time since 
he had started, he had power.  He laid on the remainder of the strokes unaware 
that his face had drawn into a maniacal grin.  He was unaware of the look of 
concern on Anne's face: of her half-started attempts to restrain him.

	By the final stroke, the girl was sobbing loudly, barely able to maintain 
the required count.  Her bottom was a fiery red where the lash had crossed and 
re-crossed the skin of perfect globes.  She straightened, tears streaming down 
her face and looked at him reproachfully from her big, blue eyes.  Even when 
crying, he noticed in wonderment, she was utterly beautiful.

	Adam lowered the whip and let it fall from nerveless fingers.  He was 
sweating and panting and simply stood as Anne hustled the bruised girl into her 
clothes and out of the door.

	As she was leaving, Felicia suddenly stopped and turned towards him.

	"You didn't have to hit me so hard," she said in a small voice.  And then 
she was gone.

	Anne came back and stood in front of him.

	"You were a bit hard on her, you know," she said softly and stoked a hot 
hand down his cheek.

	He dropped his head.  "I know.  I'm sorry.  I don't know what got into me.  
She just provoked me too far."

	"She is a very provocative girl," said Anne.

	He raised his head and met Anne's gaze.  Her eyes were hooded and hot.  
Her face was flushed.  Her lips, red and full, were parted.  Without thinking 
about it he bent and kissed her.  Instantly, her free hand was around his neck, 
her tongue snaked into his mouth and she thrust her body against him.

	A wave of lust overwhelmed him.  His hands roved her back.  He pulled her 
fiercely against him, feeling her large breasts squash against his chest even 
through the layers of clothing.  He thrust his tongue into her mouth and mashed 
his lips against hers.  He dropped his hands to her buttocks and pulled her 
tight against him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.  She moaned beneath 
the kiss and squirmed in his embrace, rubbing herself against him rolling his 
rigid cock across her belly.

	The kiss ended and they started at each other with lust-filled eyes.

	"Anne ... ," he began.

	"Yes," she said in a harsh whisper.  "Do it."

	Then they were frantically tearing at each other's buttons and zips and 
catches.  Adam pulled open her jacket and pushed it off her shoulders.  He tore 
at the buttons of her shirt, pulling two off in his desperation.  He fumbled for 
the catch of her bra.  "The front, Adam.  At the front," she prompted him.  He 
got the catch open and pulled the cups apart and grasped her large breasts in 
his hands digging his fingers painfully into the soft, resilient flesh.  She 
threw her head back and moaned.  He tried to stoop to kiss them but she pushed 
him away.  She pulled his tie loose and tore at his shirt buttons, pulling the 
tail free from his trousers.  She ran her hands up and down his chest, scoring 
it with her nails.  It was his turn to moan.  Then she was struggling with his 
belt and trouser buttons.  He sucked in his stomach to help her.  She pulled 
down his fly zip and thrust a hand down inside his underpants.

	He reached down and pulled the hem of her skirt up to her waist.  He 
started to pull down her panties but she cried, "Don't bother.  Just push them 
aside."  She was frantically pushing at his trousers and pants, trying to get 
them down his legs over his rampant cock.  His cock sprung free at last and she 
took it in both hands and tried to guide into to her vagina.  Adam looked 
frantically around.  Half lifting her under her bottom and half pushing, he 
hobbled over to Anne's desk, his trousers and pants working their way down to 
his ankles.  He lifted her and sat her on the edge of the desk, sweeping away 
papers and folders.  She hunched her pelvis forward and pulled his cock towards 
her.  He bent his knees slightly as she lined him up and pulled the hard length 
into her wet, eager cunt.

	As the hot tip of his rod met the soft wet heat of her cunt, they both 
moaned.  Then Adam pushed forwards and slid his hard length deep into her.  She 
parted her legs as wide as they would go and clasped her arms around his neck as 
he, without any preliminaries, began to shaft in and out of her as hard as he 
could.

	Her heavy breasts bounced against his chest and her hard nipples seemed to 
burn hot trails across his skin.  Her head fell against his shoulder and she 
gasped, "Oh, God.  Oh, yes.  Do it.  Do it.  That's good.  Harder.  Harder," as 
he rammed into her as hard as he could, flexing his knees to give himself extra 
purchase.  She curled her legs around his waist and crossed her ankles.  He 
could feel the nylon of her stockings brush against his skin.  She began to hump 
up and down on the desk, moaning and panting and swearing.  He put one hand at 
her bottom and one in the middle of her back to pull her even more tightly to 
him.  His cock was now completely embedded in her cunt, their pubic hairs 
rubbing together, and was able only to move fractionally in and out.  But her 
up-and-down motion was making her cunt squeeze his cock delightfully and he knew 
he would cum soon.

	Anne's movements became even more frantic and she muttered, "So close.  
Don't stop.  So close.  Oh, yes," in his ear.

	Suddenly she went rigid, her cunt seemed to grip him like a vice and she 
bit savagely into his shoulder.  He never even noticed.  Then she relaxed and 
sighed and he felt a deep warmth surround his cock as she came.  That triggered 
him and he felt his balls tighten.

	"I'm nearly there.  Don't stop," he growled and jabbed his cock into her 
even more deeply and fiercely.

	She tightened her legs around his waist and said,  "That's right.  Come 
inside me.  Come deep inside me."

	With a noise between a growl and a moan, he stuffed his cock as far up her 
crack as he could and pumped his semen into her in long, deep spurts.

	Spent, he slumped back and they hung onto each other, panting and wheezing 
for a long moment.  Then, with a low moan and a small cry of disappointment from 
Anne, he pulled his sticky cock out of her cunt.  He helped her down from the 
desk and they staggered over to the settee where they collapsed in each other's 
arms.
After a timeless moment - minutes or hours, Adam groaned and stirred.
	"Adam ... ."  "I'm .... ."  They started together.  They looked at each 
other and smiled, suddenly shy.  Anne ran a gentle finger down Adam's cheek.
	"I don't know if I should apologise or crow," he grinned.
	"Oh, don't apologise," said Anne, softly.  "In some ways it's I who should 
apologise to you."
	"Whatever for?  I'm the one who lost control."
	"Yes, but..." she drew a breath and the soft look was replaced with 
something harder.  "It doesn't matter.  Did you enjoy that?"
	"What?"  He looked surprised. "The beating or the sex?"
	"Don't be ingenuous," she said a trifle tartly, then grinned.  "I meant 
the session.  I know you enjoyed the sex."
He thought for a moment then answered soberly.  "It disturbs me to say that I 
haven't been so aroused in a long time.  I've always believed that hitting young 
people was wrong - that a teacher shouldn't need the threat of violence to 
maintain discipline.  But this wasn't like that.  They weren't 'children'.  That 
wasn't 'corporal punishment' - at least not in the way I thought it did."

	"No.  You're right.  Our punishment sessions are not corporal punishment 
in the traditional sense.  But they do serve a purpose."  She seemed about to 
say more but stopped and sighed.  "Now, Adam, we've done our duty as 
disciplinarians and had our pleasure as adults but I'm afraid my 
responsibilities as headmistress need to be attended to."  She pushed him away 
and climbed to her feet.  She stretched her stiff muscles, lifting her arms over 
her head.  Adam thrilled at the way her magnificent breasts stood proudly out 
from her chest.  He felt he could make love to this beautiful woman for ever and 
still not get enough.  He wondered if he was falling in love.  She began putting 
her clothing in order and, reluctantly he stood up and did the same.

	At the door of the office she kissed him deeply and lingeringly.  "I think 
this is just the beginning," she murmured as she ushered him out.

END of Chapter 4
