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Story - The Eternal Triangle

Another post from the past, this time by Big Billie whose stories you can find at Alt Sex Stories Text Repository. It deals with school punishment which I don't agree with at all, expect in the form of role play between adults, however the Sally Trubshawe Henderson stories are rather good. I hope you enjoy this weeks story.

John, Annie and Sally: The Eternal Triangle

Author's Statement: Big Billie is opposed to spanking and circumcision except for consenting adults. However, spanking and circumcision sexually excite him, so he writes about them.

My name is Sally Henderson, neƩ Trubshawe. From the early 1960s until the 1990s I was a teacher. For most of that time I taught gymnastics and geography at a small, select, girls boarding school in the southern counties of England. Soon after I took up my job there the headmistress, Miss Pargeter, appointed me the Dean of Discipline, and, when Miss Pargeter retired, I myself became the headmistress.


You may, dear reader, recall some or all of this from my earlier reminiscences. You may also remember that, until I met my policeman husband, Dave, I was very sexually frustrated. As Dean of Discipline I found slippering young ladies' bottoms a sexual turn-on, and, for a while, I enjoyed a delicious, but highly illicit, sexual relationship with a young lady called Margaret Bushnell. But, as I have explained before, I was an unfaithful votaress of the sorority of Sappho, and I craved the sexual attentions of young men. This, of course, posed problems, since I was ensconced within the secure walls of an all-female academy. Therefore, every chance for relations with the opposite sex had to be swiftly and efficiently grasped; at the time the opportunity that I will now describe was far too good to miss, even though it has since brought me much emotional grief.

It was a late afternoon in January a few days after the start of the Spring Term. The day was bright and mild, with a light, pleasant, southerly wind that brought scurrying clouds and sunny intervals. By now the sun was setting, and it threw deep golden rays, almost horizontally, across the landscape.

Now the tennis courts are on the far side of the playing fields, at a considerable distance from the school. A separate hut therefore services them, and it contains not only changing rooms for the players, but also a large room that we use as storage space. I had gone to the tennis hut to retrieve something from this storeroom. I did not anticipate meeting anyone, since tennis was not in season, and the courts were not used, during the early months of the year. But this time I got a shock. The lock on the door was hanging on its clasp, open.

I immediately diagnosed mischief and decided to investigate. I opened the door as quickly and as quietly as I could, strode boldly into the hut and instituted a swift search before any malefactors would know what had hit them. I found the culprits in the storeroom. One of them was a 14-year-old girl from the Third Year called Annie Kemp. In the sunlight that streamed through the window I could see that she was completely naked, and that a young man in a similar condition accompanied her. The couple had made a bed out of some padded gym mats from the store, and they were lying on this, clasped in a passionate embrace. What held me entranced and spellbound, however, was the sight of the young man's cock. It was stiff and rock hard, with the skin pulled so tightly down the shaft that it glistened in the rays of the setting sun.

Unfortunately, however, it did not stay long in this condition. The young man was jolted out of his sexual pleasure by my appearance at the door, and soon his cock was hanging, engorged but flaccid, against his thigh.

Well, dear reader, spanking has been an important part of my life, and in those days I always tried to carry my slipper with me in case it was needed for the execution of summary acts of retributive justice. Luckily for me, and unluckily for the two lovebirds, I had it to hand on this occasion, in a duffle bag that hung from my shoulder. So, wow, I thought. If I play my cards right here, this could get very interesting.

I started off by making the culprits stand, stark naked, in front of me. I then softened them up with a verbal roasting. I had seen Annie's paramour before, but I could not put a name to his face. He now told me, however, that he was called John Hankinson. He was 18 years old and attended a nearby male boarding school as a dayboy. The couple had met during a recent joint Shakespearian production between the two schools, and they had been smitten with each other. As I delivered GBH (grievous bodily harm) of the ear- hole to the two malefactors I seized the opportunity to eye up this naked, nubile male. He was thin, and, despite his tender years, very tall. I would say that he must have been at least 6 feet 2 inches, and he towered above Annie. The hair on his head was very fair, but around his cock it was a little darker. John had pale skin, but a complexion that was naturally ruddy. Now that he had been apprehended, he blushed a deep and very fetching colour, somewhere between scarlet and claret, from his chin to his eyes. John was quiet, unassuming and well spoken. He was also very nice, very pleasant, and very chivalrous towards Annie. All in all he was a fine and excellent young man, and I immediately lusted after him. Why, I thought to myself, should some scrawny little Third Year enjoy the pleasures of his favour while I was lying on my bed at night, frustrated and alone?

In his attempts to get Annie off the hook, John was a perfect gentleman. He freely confessed that it was all his idea, and his entire fault. It was he who had picked the lock to gain entrance, and he had persuaded Annie to go along with him. He loved Annie, and he just wanted to spend some time with her in private. But then they had both got carried away. It was, he added, as well that they had been interrupted or he might have done something that he would have regretted. "Yes, that's right, miss," chipped in Annie. "Nothing happened. I mean, John didn't do anything, did you, darling?"

Well, I thought to myself, that was a relief. I also had considerable sympathy for John and Annie. If I had been John I would have done exactly the same thing. There would have been exactly the same developments, and I would have been caught 'in flagrante delicto' in exactly the same way. I was therefore very tempted, as I have been on a number of similar occasions, to exercise discretion and to let the culprits go. But no! Hang on, I thought! That could never be. Here I was, a deeply frustrated female who loved spanking and sex. How could I avoid exploiting the possibilities of this situation, and of a handsome, completely naked young man, at the height of his sexual potency? I had to go for it, I concluded; and go for it I did, even though, in the end, my actions brought me grief.

First I introduced the subject of corporal punishment. How, I asked John, was his headmaster going to react to news of his escapade? "It will be six of the best for you, young man," I extemporised. "With a cane. Have you ever been caned?" "No ma'am." "Well I assure you that it will hurt like hell. You will be left with 6 deep livid, red and black bruised ridges cut into the fleshy meat of your backside that will take the best part of a week to 10 days to go away. Do you really want that?" "No, ma'am." "No. I bet you don't. And, in addition, you will almost certainly be expelled." I paused for dramatic effect. "Then," I added, "There will be the police and the criminal charges." "Criminal charges, ma'am?" John asked in dismay. "Oh yes!" I replied blithely. "You don't think that you can walk away from something like this with a mere caning and an expulsion, do you? The legal age for sex in England is 16. How old is Annie?" John blushed still more, and looked at the floor, discomfited. "Well," I urged. "Go on. Tell me." "She's 14, ma'am." "Quite. And how old are you?" "Eighteen, ma'am." "And you attempted intercourse with a 14-year-old girl?" "No, ma'am," replied John, and by now he was really frightened. "It wasn't like that." "So you say," I answered, but the police and the courts will look at the evidence. Good Lord, young man! You were caught red-handed, lying on a bed with a completely naked young lady. Don't tell me you were about to play tiddlywinks." At this point Annie, in a state of great agitation, made an emotional outburst. She gazed into my eyes and pleaded with me. "Please, miss," she cried. "Don't do that. Do anything but that. Do what you like to me, but don't punish John. I fancied him and I led him on. He doesn't deserve what you are threatening him with. Please! I love him. Don't have him caned and expelled, and don't turn him into a criminal."

Yes, I thought to myself. I like these two young people. They are good, decent eggs. They care deeply about each other. They are each trying to make it right for the other by taking the rap themselves; and the blame for this affecting scenario should rightly fall, not on these two young lovers, but on the school, which had arranged the joint Shakespearian production in the first place, and which had allowed kind occasion to prompt their warm desires. These young lovers, at a vulnerable time of their lives, had acted opposite each other as the leads in 'Romeo and Juliet,' one of the Bard's great tragedies, courtly and romantic. Could there be a more fertile ground for young love to blossom than in the passion and intensity of this moving drama? Even now our lovers were acting as Shakespearians, with dignity, nobility and altruism, despite the embarrassingly undignified situation in which they had been caught. All of these factors, I concluded, indicated that I should not be too harsh with our young thespians. But that did not mean that I should not spank them, and that I should not have myself a bit of fun!

"You say that, Annie," I replied. "And I accept that, despite your tender years, you are a fetching piece of Eve's flesh. But succumbing to the temptations of jailbait, however alluring, is not a defence that is acceptable to the courts." And so our interesting and stimulating discussions continued.

Eventually, having milked the situation for all it was worth, and for as long as I could, I told the two lovers what I intended to do with them. I wanted, I said, to avoid a scandal that would damage the reputations of the two schools, and that would put future joint dramatic productions in jeopardy. I would therefore try to cover things up provided that the two culprits were prepared to let me deal with them. I admitted to John and Annie that I had some sympathy for their plight. They were healthy young people. It was natural that they should both be interested in the opposite sex. It was not good for them to live in single sex institutions, and I could understand them going ape when they met each other. Annie might be only 14, but she did look older. Most important of all, I was prepared to accept their assurances that intercourse had not occurred. I was therefore going to be lenient with them. They would each be let off with a bare-bottomed spanking. Annie would take the standard dose for a Third Year girl, namely 8 slaps, and John would take the usual rap for an older pupil, namely 12 slaps.

I then took a piece of chalk from my bag and drew two crosses on the floor. The first cross was about 10 yards from the window and directly opposite to it. The second cross was about 4 or 5 yards closer to the window, and to the right of the first one. I then got Annie to stand on the second cross with her bottom towards the window, and John on the first cross facing the same way. "Now," I said. "Touch your toes, please, keeping your legs straight." My victims meekly and obediently complied with these instructions, and I took a few seconds to survey the sexy and kinky scenario that I had succeeded in setting up. The setting sun was shining through the window and illuminating the culprits' two bare bottoms.

Annie was a dark, slim, svelte girl, tall for her age. She had pert, firm, nubile breasts and a trim but curvaceous figure. Her bottom was deceptively meaty and, beneath and between its two cheeks, I noticed with satisfaction that, despite her youthfulness, a thick tousle of curly, crinkly black fanny hairs was already sprouting from and around her labial lips. As Annie bent over and stretched forward, the muscles and tendons in her legs and thighs were pulled tight and taut. This emphasised the shapeliness of her calves beautifully. Then, at the tops of her two inside thighs, where they became lost in the downwardly sprouting public hair of the vulva, there were two dimpling concave hollows, as if designed to allow a little more space for a big, round, cylindrical cock to ease its way into her unshaven haven. And what a stunning and alluring target there was between those two thigh hollows for a stiff male cock to aim at! Annie's legs were pushed together and her outer labia pouted slightly open to reveal a thin vertical line of serrated coral pink inner pussy skin. The serrations were delicate and tight, like the join line between the two half shells of an unopened oyster. Wow! How that excited my Sapphic proclivities! How I lusted to give those two pink lips of love a long, slow, wet, passionate French kiss! Oh, yes! Annie clearly still had some growing up to do, but, I concluded, there was already more than enough there to keep a healthy young male like John over-excited for the duration. Wow! I thought to myself. I bet John would just love to spear Annie's bearded clam; and the thought excited me, but also made me very, very jealous.

Then I turned my gaze onto Annie's young admirer. He was standing with his legs just slightly apart, and, illuminated by the late afternoon sunshine, I could clearly see, between his legs, his bollocks hanging in their hairy scrotal bag. As for John's bottom it was firm and tight, just the shape that a young man's bottom should be. In general, John was not a particularly hirsute person, but his long, thin, muscular legs were adorned with short fair hairs. Finally, I noted that John had fallen for the bait that I had dangled before him. Indeed, what healthy young man would not? As he bent over he was arching his neck and looking upwards, forwards and to the left, gazing intently at his girlfriend's legs, bum and hairy vulva.

I took my slipper in my hand and stood in position to chastise Annie. First, however, I decided to give her a few tail flicks to keep her on her toes. I flicked my wrist and slapped my trusty slipper across the back of Annie's hairy twat. Smack! The slap was not very hard, but, even so, within a few seconds it had left a sexy pink mark on Annie's undercarriage, just above her thighs, to match the thin coral pink line of her pouting pussy lips. "Come on, girl," I said sharply. "Bend over further. You know that is not good enough." And so on. Even though Annie was doing her best to present her rump to me as instructed I still dished out 4 of these preparatory pre-spanking tail flicks, all of them across the back of the fanny meat just above the thighs, and each one slightly harder than the one before it. In an attempt to stop this arbitrary extra chastisement Annie sweated, strained and grunted to bend over as far as she possibly could, pushing her fingers up to and past her toes. After the fourth slap she protested. "Please, miss," she pleaded helplessly. "I'm doing my best. I really am." Now this was what victims of my pre-spanking tail flicks often said, and I gave Annie one of my standard replies. Whack!! Four second pause. Whack!!! I delivered another two sharp flicks, slightly harder than the previous 4, and with number 6 just marginally harder than number 5. "Well your best is just not good enough, Annie," I explained testily. "When I catch you bending I expect you to co-operate; if you do not I will make you very, very sorry for yourself." Poor Annie! She grunted and winced at the flicks as she kept trying her very best to obey my orders.

Next I moved across to John. Smack! "Come {on, young man. Legs straight and touch your toes." Poor John! He was nowhere near as supple as Annie, and his legs were very long. Despite his grunts and groans he was still several inches short of complying with my injunction. Smack!! Four second wait. Smack!!! "Please ma'am," pleaded the victim helplessly. "I just can't do it. I've never been able to touch my toes." Smack!!! "Well now is the time to learn. Come on! Stretch!" And I placed my hand on the back of John's neck and gently pressed it towards the floor. Then, unfortunately for John, he made a mistake. Crack!!! Four second wait. Crack!!! Four second wait. Crack!!! I administered a further 3 gratuitous flicks to John's bare bum, and I flicked it pretty hard too! "Right, young man, now you have really annoyed me. You have touched your toes but you have bent your legs. What did I tell you?" "Please ma'am, I just can't do it. I'm sorry." So OK, I thought, I'll buy that. Let's stop arsing about and get on with the spanking proper.

"Right," I said to our two lovebirds. "Ladies first. You will take your first slap, Annie, and then John will take his. Then you will take your second, and so on. When you have taken your 8, stay in position and keep touching your toes. And you do the same, John, after you have taken your 12. Is that clear?" "Yes, miss," said Annie. "Yes ma'am," added John.

I then took up my stand again to the left of Annie's bare bum, with my slipper gripped firmly in my right hand. I stared long and hard at the thick clump of wiry black hair that sprouted indelicately and invitingly from Annie's pudenda. Now my younger readers may be surprised at the frequency of the references, in my memoirs, to hirsute fannies, and to hairy armpits. You may recall that in one of my narratives a cheeky girl tried to appear less nubile than she really was by shaving the hairs from off her underarms and cunt meat. Well, today it would be interesting to know how many young ladies have what the British Navy would refer to as "a full set" of armpit and pubic hairs. There are not many, I bet. These days, upon their crotches, many ladies sport the "LA cut," the "Brazilian cut," or any one of a number of other tonsorial styles to ensure that their fanny hair does not cause them embarrassment by sprouting from the gussets of their high cut bikini bottoms and similar. The same is true of armpit hair, which these days is usually cut off rather than left to hang free when ladies are wearing revealing tops. But in the 1960s things were different, with both fanny and armpit hair, and, as my husband Dave says on this one, "Long live the 1960s!" In those days, so distant to many of you but so familiar to my generation, it was the exception rather than the rule for a girl to pay overmuch attention either to her underarms or to her "bikini line." Certainly, Annie had ignored both her armpits and her hairy crotch. I could see, as she bent over, that her labial lips were completely unrazored. For a girl of her age, she had a magnificent tousle of thick, wiry black fanny curls sprouting saucily and jauntily from between and above the meaty undercarriage of her curvaceous bottom, the jet black hair setting off and highlighting the delicate pink pouting pussy lips.

For a few seconds I gawped helplessly at Annie's fanny, at her shapely buttocks and hairy crotch. Oh, wow, but she was sexy! I sometimes ask my husband, Dave, which view of a young lady turns him on the most. Dave says that there are 2 serious runners. The first is naked full frontal, or the "eyes and thighs" interactive view as Dave calls it. This is a democratic, egalitarian, politically correct view, in which the young lady can hold her admirer's attention with powerful eye contact, smiles and come hither expressions. The young man's eyes, however, against his will, begin to wander, and sooner or later he breaks off eye contact to ogle, leer and gawp at his paramour's nubile boobies, trim waist and belly button, meaty thighs and, in particular, hairy vulva and love slot. Then, embarrassed at his crude display of animal lust, he will gaze back full into his lover's eyes, sheepishly and slightly ashamed, and his partner will give him a tolerant and knowing smile that tells him, "Yes, I know. You men are all the same." There is no more romantic pose in which to catch a young lady, claims Dave, romantic but with more than a hint of sauciness.

However, Dave adds that if you want, not romance, but sheer animal lust, the sexiest view of a young lady is from the rear, while she is bending over. This is the authoritarian, undemocratic, non-female participative, non-interactive, male chauvinist, view, but it presents the lady's rump, hairy fanny, labial lips and cunt slot perfectly for meticulous male inspection. There is no eye contact, and the young lady cannot easily participate in the proceedings. It is the man who is calling the shots, and he it is who decides whether to enter her or not. Then, if he does, all that she can do is to brace herself and take it. It may not be a politically correct posture for the lady, adds Dave, but, for him, it stirs the loins and stiffens the cock more than any other.

Well, this was the aspect that Annie presented now, to me and to her lover, John. As he gazed forward to the right, and strained his neck to get a good view, I could see, as I stood at his side, that his cock was stiff and straight, pushing into his tummy as he bent forwards; and oh my, dear reader, did this annoy me! I was riled that Annie's vulva was so youthful, tight, nubile and sexy. In contrast (or so it seemed to me at the time) my own twat was ageing, used, second-hand, loose and stretched. Why, I thought, should this scrawny slip of a girl distil so much sexiness, and have so much sexual power over this young man? Despite her tender years, all she had to do was to bend over and show him the goods, and he was gagging for it. It was so effortless, almost arrogant, in its hegemonic force, and it made me very, very jealous, and very, very mad! Right, madam, I thought to myself, how dare you be sexier than I am! I will make you pay for that. I will punish you at the point of pulchritude. I will make your fanny meat tingle! I will wring, sting, and redden your naked cunt flesh right across the back of that tight, stunning little box of yours!

Of course, all of this was blatantly unfair on poor Annie. It was not her fault that God had fashioned her so wondrously. But, even so, it would be very demeaning for such a wonder of nature to get spanked like a naughty juvenile, and this would do her no harm. After all, we did not want her to get too conceited about her womanly charms and her power over young men! The only problem, of course, from my point of view, was that the harder I chastised Annie, and the redder I made her bottom, the more it was likely to turn John on to her! Hey ho! In this world there are times when you just cannot win!

But, again, dear reader, I fear that I am relapsing into long-windedness. Let me return to how I spanked our two lovebirds on that bright, sunny, winter's afternoon. First I pushed my trusty spanking slipper into the bare meat of Annie's fanny, just above the tops of her thighs where her bum flesh was plump and succulent, as I took careful aim. Next I raised the slipper high in the air and exulted in my triumph. Then round came my arm in a sharp, swift movement. CRACK!!! Oh, wow! That was more than me having myself a bit of fun! That was a really mean and spiteful one! As I have said, I was jealous that Annie should have this handsome and sexy young hunk for her use and enjoyment, and I made her tingle for it. The slap rang out like an exploding firecracker as my pump bit into the soft, plump meat across the back of Annie's twat. Her bum flesh shuddered and her black fanny hairs flew. "Ngh!" The victim let out an urgent grunt at the sharp initial sting of the pump across her bare bum. Then, over the next few seconds, as her bum began to tingle, Annie started to cry out, in great urgency, as if she were in the throes of an orgasm. "Oh! Oh!! Oh!!!"

Meanwhile I smiled in grim satisfaction to see the wicked red outline of my slipper, stamped into Annie's fanny meat right across the back of her hairy twat. It was as if my pump was a hot iron, and she had just been branded with it across her naked arse. "Take that," I thought. "You precocious young madam! So you are the girl are you? You're ready to take a cock up your twat are you? You're the sophisticated lady, old enough for the jousts of Venus? You're the 'femme fatale' with airs and graces, leading young men astray? I think not, my bonnie bird! You're an immature 14-year-old girl, and you need to be humbled and slapped back into line. There will be no stiff cock slapped between your naked buttocks! Instead, you will get a slipper slapped across them, and slapped across them hard!" Poor Annie! She was not only taking the punishment she deserved, she was also paying a saucy surcharge inflicted by a spiteful, envious and vindictive old hag!

I spent a long time admiring my handiwork to Annie's bare bum. Then I stepped backwards and to the left and positioned myself to commence John's chastisement. First I gazed with interest at his unclothed rump and nether regions. From behind I could see hairs around his crotch. Then, in addition, and unlike Annie, he also had a thin sprinkling of downy hairs on his legs and bottom. In proportion to the rest of his body, John's rump was smaller, trimmer and neater than Annie's, or, to put it another way, less voluptuous. But it was perfectly formed and very inviting. Then, hanging free below and between John's buttocks, I noticed his hairy scrotum encasing his balls and temporarily hiding his cock from my excited gaze. However, despite the erotic possibilities of the situation, John had caught me at a disadvantage. I had never slippered a young man's bare bottom before, and I did not know how best to proceed.

Now I should stress at this point that I have always been a very thoughtful disciplinarian. During our teacher training we were told to think constantly about what we did in the classroom, and to always try to do it better. Throughout my career I have done my best to live up to this principle. I have kept up-to-date with my classroom subject, Geography, right from the 1960s onwards, from the first mention of earth sciences, tectonic plates and so on in the official syllabus. I have also tried to use up- to-date teaching methods and to employ all the latest ideas and technologies.

I have always reflected upon disciplinary topics, too, especially the principles and practice of smacking bottoms. The psychology of spanking fascinates me. It always has done ever since, all those years ago in the West Indies, I first landed the flat sole of a large gentlemen's gym slipper slap across the naked, nubile buttocks of a beautiful teenaged lady. How many times, I have often asked myself, and how hard, should a young lady's bottom be smacked? Well, in my view, and as I explain more fully elsewhere, the bigger the bum, and the hairier its undercarriage, the sharper it should catch it. But there are a number of other factors to take into account. If the victim has riled me, for example by taking the piss or by being caught smoking, I make her feel my displeasure. If she tries to appear nonchalant about her punishment, if she does not grunt or wince in an appropriate fashion while it is inflicted, and if she does not pay me the courtesy of acknowledging my skill by ruefully rubbing her bottom afterwards, she catches it harder next time. To help me to fine tune my discipline, I observe my victims, and my audience, very carefully before, during and after the chastisements that I dish out. Girls are usually slippered at the end of gym classes. Afterwards, I always, whenever I get the chance, eye up the red marks that I have inflicted while the victims are in the communal showers. Some girls I do not slap as hard as others. For example, high spirits and harmless horseplay I can tolerate better than laziness and lack of effort. If a girl is an occasional, as opposed to a frequent, offender, or if she is fearful of the pump, or shows signs of distress after she has taken it, I usually try to go easy on her. Since my marriage to Dave I have talked over these issues with him, with a view to improving my disciplinary practices. I could write at great length on this subject, and I may do, perhaps, later in these reminiscences. What I did not realise at first, however, is that some girls enjoy being spanked. I remember, over the years, a number of young ladies, often among the brightest, most hard working and most pleasant in the school, who always seemed to be getting into hot water. It was some time before I realised that these ladies liked to take the slipper just as much as I liked to dish it out. In the modern parlance, I suppose, I am a "top," and it took me some time to work out that there were people who enjoyed being "bottoms." When I caught on, however, I was intrigued and delighted at my discovery, and from then on I tried as hard as I could to identify all "bottoms" and to give them slightly more satisfaction than they wanted!

Anyway, I have spent too long on this, and I must move on. I mention it now because for someone who took spanking as seriously as me it was disconcerting to be faced with a completely new and unknown challenge in the shape of a nubile, naked, male bottom. Anyway, despite my ignorance and lack of experience, I decided to give it my best shot. I pushed my slipper into John's firm, taut bum flesh to get my bearings. Then I raised the slipper into the air. Next, as with Annie a few seconds before, I got mad. How dare this young man fancy a scrawny 14-year-old nymphette rather than me! Here I was, a mature, sophisticated and experienced lady, ready, willing and able for Aphroditic antics. Yet the young man who bent naked before me had had the effrontery to dally with a mere slip of a girl, a gauche, callow virgin half my age! For that, I resolved, he must be made to sting! I let the anger and outrage well up inside me, and then, just as it reached its peak, I let John have it, and I let him have it very hard, straight across the naked bum flesh of both bare buttocks, just above the tops of his thighs. Swish! Crack!!!

At first John took his slap manfully, and in complete silence. I listened carefully, but I could detect no sign of a grunt or a cry; but his buttock meat shuddered invitingly, the blond, downy hairs of his bum fluff were scattered by the breeze, and, at the force of the blow, his bollocks swung gently backwards and then forwards again in their hairy scrotal bag. I watched John's undercarriage intently where I had just hit it. After about 4 seconds it flushed a fetching shade of deep pink. I knew that at this point the sharp initial sting inflicted by my pump would be supplemented by a sharp and urgent tingling, and I was interested in how John would react to this. I was not to be disappointed. John was taking his medicine bravely and stoically, but he was not expecting this sizzling encore, and he found it impossible to take it in silence. "Oh! Oh!! OH!!! Aaaaaaw!" he murmured helplessly.

Gratified by John's reaction I stepped forward and to my right, towards Annie. I addressed her undercarriage for a second time with my trusty gym slipper. Then I raised the slipper high into the air and brought it down and round again. For a second time it slapped across the back of Annie's beleaguered twat meat with a loud, high-pitched crack. Annie let out an urgent little scream followed, a few seconds later, by a long, loud yell as she reacted to the sharp, escalating tingling: "Ouch! Aaaaiiiyeeee!!!" Meanwhile I had moved backwards and to the left and was addressing John's rump again.

And so, dear reader, it went on, until my two victims had both taken their stipulated penalty, Annie her 8 slaps and John his 12. I fully vented my spleen on them, {nd purged my outraged pride. I smacked them both hard, right slap across their bare, quivering, reddening buttocks. Neither victim was able to take the punishment in silence, and, to my amusement and satisfaction, they both uttered a series of interesting and diverting grunts and cries. Then I made them put their hands on their heads, straighten up, and stand to attention. In fact, John stood to attention in more ways than one. From his vantage point to the rear of his paramour he had an excellent view of her bare, reddened, well-smacked bum, and it seemed to seriously excite him. His cock was still rock hard and standing high and erect. I kept the lovebirds in this position for 10 minutes, to let them feel the full stinging and tingling effects of their chastisement, and at the end of that time John's cock was just as engorged as it had been to start with. Then, to hide John's embarrassing tumescence from Annie, I ordered him to stand in the corner of the room that lay behind him and to his left, with his face to the wall. Next I told Annie to get dressed and get back into school. At this instruction Annie took her hands off her head and massaged her bum flesh, gingerly and ruefully, for about 30 seconds, with her fingers and opened palms. Then she pulled on her clothing and her shoes and made off, giving John's bare, reddened bum a long, lingering stare as she went.

Right, I thought to myself. That has got rid of her. Now comes the really interesting bit. And I pondered on how I should play out my part in this fleeting little scene, acted out on this bank and shoal of time, in England's beautiful southern counties in the mid-1960s. For in this little drama Annie was no longer my pupil, and I was not her teacher. Our roles were for the moment changed. Annie was my rival in love, and I was the scheming, calculating other woman who intended to take her man off her and get him for myself. Well, I thought, I do not seem to have made a bad start. After all, how many ladies reading this now would not like to smack the bare bottom of a romantic rival, hard, and then contemptuously dismiss her!

On the other hand, I was torn. I knew that I was seriously abusing my professional position. I lusted after John passionately, and I knew I was about to try my hardest to seduce him. Was this right? I asked myself, and the answer that my conscience gave to me was No. Then I recalled how the lovebirds had looked when I had first apprehended them, mutually entwined in a naked embrace. They were so innocent, so beautiful and so charming. Throughout all of the eons of recorded time until now they had both been dead and unformed. Then they had spent their early years growing to sexual puberty. Now that, at last, they were nubile and sexually aware, who could blame them for taking their chances? I called to mind the words of the Shakespearian song:

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty; Youth's a stuff will not endure.

What had they done that was bad? Was it wrong for young men to court young ladies, and for young ladies to respond to their advances? No, what was wrong was my plan to thwart their love, and to impose my own selfish agenda upon their lives. But, dear reader, what force have moral scruples when they are confronted by urgent sexual desires? In the future, these matters were to cause me great grief; but for the present I tried to exploit the sexual opportunities that were dangled so invitingly before me.

My target was still standing in a corner, bare naked, with his face to the wall. "John," I said, and I now sounded gentle and considerate. "Yes, ma'am." "Come here, please." "Yes, ma'am." Still with his hands on his head, John turned from his corner and walked over to me. He stopped in front of me, looking very embarrassed. I looked steadily into his eyes. "O.K.", I said sympathetically. "You can take your hands off your head now." "Thank you, ma'am," said John as he obeyed my instructions. Meanwhile, we were both connecting to each other with powerful eye contact. I smiled sweetly and took a step backwards. Then I looked down at John's cock. Good. It was still stiff and rampant, tugging upwards and standing almost vertical against his belly button.

Then I took a risk. I extended my right hand horizontally from my waist and, with my fingernail, gently scratched the underside of John's cock, just below his glans. I was fearful that John would recoil in shock and horror, but he did not. Instead his cock leapt to my arousing touch, and he sucked in air with an audible gasp. "Ooooh!" he breathed ecstatically. Then I grinned impishly. "My, my, young man," I said. "You have been circumcised." And I gave the underneath of his cock another tweaking scratch with my nail, causing John to catch his breath yet again. Meanwhile, we continued to engage each other with steady, almost obsessive, eye contact. "Very tightly," I added pertly as I tweaked him for a third time. "I like that." Meanwhile, John's cock, if anything, went even stiffer. It was now as stiff as a cock can be without exploding into orgasm. John continued to look very embarrassed, but he kept up his relentless eye contact, as if I held him in a spell.

So, O.K., I thought. It is now or never. I was afraid that if I broke eye contact the moment would be lost, so I kept it up. At the same time I tugged down my training bottoms and panties. Then I took John's cock in my hands and pulled it towards my vulva. By now I was hot and wet, and, wherever this ended, I knew that I had to go on.

In fact, although I was fearful of resistance it never came. John had been so excited by Annie's charms, and by the kinkiness of their mutual punishment, that he was as hot as I was. I did not need to complete the process of guiding his love truncheon to my pussy slot. He suddenly embraced me with a tenderness that shocked me, and kissed me, gently but passionately, on the lips. Then, bending his knees to bring his cock to the height of my crotch, he gently eased his stiffened shaft into me. Since I had not led a particularly chaste life, my love channel presented no problems of tightness or inadequacy, and John slipped into it easily.

Meanwhile, I was shocked at how tender and gentle my young lover was with me. I had rudely rattled his arse for him, and I was expecting his lovemaking to be just as brusque: wham, bam, thank you ma'am. But, oh no, dear reader, it was not. "Come on," I said quietly. "Let's lie down." So we lay down together on the same bed of padded gym mats where I had found John with Annie. Soon I was as naked as John was, and we were engaged in long, passionate, but also gentle, considerate and romantic, coitus.

Oh my, dear reader. That was so much better than what I had been expecting, but it was to cause me pain. As I have intimated elsewhere in these memoirs, if only there were such a thing as an uncomplicated fuck. Spanking is usually a one-off. A nubile young lady has been naughty. I smack her bottom for her, which I thoroughly enjoy, and then it is over. If she is big and succulent (or even if she is not) I hope to catch her bending again; but, if it does not happen, well, there are plenty more fish in the sea. But romantic relationships, and sexual coitus, are not like that, at least not for me, and they never have been. As I lay down with John on those gym mats I was beset by guilt and I was thinking in terms of a sharp exit from the situation. I wanted a single, brief, hot, passionate act of coitus, after which I would tenderly kiss him, thank him, hand him back to Annie, and get on with my life. And I thought that was what would happen. After all, John, at 18 years of age, was at his sexual peak. He was inexperienced, a virgin in fact, so I did not expect him to be a particularly skilful or effective lover. But at least, I thought, he could give me a quick bonk. I was so sexually excited that it would not take much for him to bring me off. Then it would all be over, and I would be able to look back, wistfully, on a brief but very amusing and sexy encounter that had featured my 2 greatest passions, namely spanking and sex.

But no, dear reader, that is not what happened; that is not what happened at all. John and I lay on those gym mats for more than 3 hours, for so long, in fact, that I missed the evening meal. My lover was young and virile, but also polite, gentlemanly and unselfish. He had four orgasms before we arose, but he seemed less interested in them than in pleasuring me. On a purely physical level, I emerged as a very well fucked, and a very well satisfied lady. But, of course, it was much more than purely physical. I was enchanted and captivated by this excellent young man. Ever the professional educator, I tried to thank John by acting out the "older experienced woman teaches young male virgin how it is done" role. Yes, O.K., John did rise from those gym mats a wiser and more sexually competent lover; but to both him and me that was not what it was mainly about.

For the last hour we just cuddled and talked, and I was amazed at how gentle and considerate my lover was towards me, especially since I had been so forceful and violent towards him and Annie. By now I was utterly mortified at how I had treated the lovebirds, and completely thrown off balance. I just did not know how to play it any more, but I concluded that I owed it to John to be open and honest with him. I apologised to him for the spankings, and I explained how and why they were not purely disciplinary. John replied that he was flattered by my sexual interest, that Annie and he had deserved all they got, and that he bore me no ill will but, in fact, the precise opposite. Before we parted, I extolled Annie, and recommended John to pursue his relationship with her; but the advice did not come from my heart. We parted as lovers, even though we made no arrangements for another tryst.

Even after all of these years, dear reader, I am thrown into palpitations and confusion by this narrative that I am writing. I was in such an emotional state after John left me that I could scarcely concentrate upon my official duties.

By the time that all of this occurred I had moved out of my rooms in the main school building, and into a small cottage in the grounds. On the next Sunday morning, at about 11 o'clock, I was in the kitchen of the cottage dolefully munching breakfast cereal and morosely pondering on my romantic predicament. Then I heard a light tapping on the window. When I looked to see what it was, my hackles stood on end and my heart pounded fiercely against my ribcage; it was John. Luckily, a high privet hedge surrounded the cottage garden, so I was able to let him in unobserved. Even so, I quickly smuggled him upstairs, where callers would not see him.

Well, in the bedroom John and I had another long talk. From what he said it sounded as if he was even more emotionally distressed than me by our recent sexual encounter; I was his obsession, he said, and he could think of nothing else. Yet again I admitted that his feelings were reciprocated, but I added that it could never be. I was about 10 years older than him and for all sorts of reasons it just would not work out. During my life I have had a lot of heart-to-heart talks with my various lovers; but none of them was so distressing and so emotionally fraught as that session with John.

However, the inevitable happened. On that winter Sunday John and I ended up in bed together; and we spent a lot more time in the same bed from January until the following October and beyond. John's 19th birthday fell in the February of that year; he had already gained a State Scholarship from his A Level performance as an 18-year-old the previous summer, and at Christmas he had past the entrance examinations for Cambridge University. Thus, although my lover was staying on at school to complete his duties as house captain, etc., he had not been entered for any forthcoming examinations and was under no pressures. Wow! The situation was perfect for us, and our romantic attachment blossomed during a very long, hot summer. Our lovemaking was fierce, but our romantic relationship was tender. Like me, John was beset with guilt. He should never have called at the cottage, he said, and it was wrong that we were lovers; typically, he was particularly upset about Annie, to whom he was still very attached. Sometimes he tried to make light of it. He had been very naughty, he would say, and I could spank him if I liked; well, I did, of course, but only playfully and as part of our lovemaking.

My relationship with John is one that has never ended. My lover went up to Cambridge that autumn, but we still kept in touch. I will not tell you the whole story of the relationships between John, Annie and me; but suffice to say that, inevitably in the end, I got my emotional comeuppance. If only John had been a bastard it would have been so much easier. But, of course, he was not. Do you not agree, ladies, that it is very often the nice ones who break your heart? Every year John and Annie send Dave and me a Christmas card, and every time it arrives I am punished again for the sins of my youth.