Advice From A Teacher

I'm Meredith and I've just been appointed as a teacher at Fairmont High. I had a brand new degree behind me and Fairmont High had a good reputation, though there were a few odd rumours that floated around about it. Not that it bothered me. I had a job.

I fronted up at the school the day before the term began to make the acquaintance of the other teachers and familiarise myself with the school and the school rules. I won't say I made a sterling impression, at least not where Mrs Fotheringham, the headmistress was concerned.

"Is that the sort of attire you intend to wear?" Mrs Fotheringham asked me, running her eyes up and down my skirt and blouse rather disdainfully. "We do tend to dress a little conservatively at Fairmont. You might like to keep that in mind."

I was all, yes, ma'am, of course, ma'am, while at the same time wondering what her problem was. I'd already met several other women teachers and their outfits were similar to mine. A surreptitious check of the school rules assured me that I was fine. Perhaps Mrs Fotheringham just liked the female teachers to be more demurely attired. (For demurely read old-fashioned.)

"Yes, well off you go. Just be careful around the boys. They're not what you would call gentlemen. If you have any problems feel free to come and talk to me. If I'm not available speak to Sam Ogilvie and he'll sort things out. He's in charge of discipline, by the way. Remember to read the rules regarding discipline."

I looked up the discipline rules and was surprised to find that Fairmont endorsed corporal punishment. I hadn't known any schools still had corporal punishment, although I could recall a few cases where it has been badly needed.

The first morning everything went well. At lunch-time I had a quick meal and then set out to explore the school more thoroughly. If I had to get somewhere I need to be sure I knew where that somewhere was.

That's when I fell into trouble. I was at one of the lonelier parts of the school, checking out one of the classrooms when I heard the classroom door close. Turning around I found two of the boys standing there, smirking at me.

When I say boys I suppose I should really say young men, or young thugs in this instance. They were both big and beefy, undoubtedly part of the football team. From the look of them I'd have said age eighteen, or even older if they'd been held back a year.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my tome plainly indicating that the reply I wanted was no.

"Maybe, cutie," said one of them, his smirk growing wider. "We're stars of the football team and we just know you want to make our closer acquaintance."

"I'll pass," I said, icicles dripping from my voice. "Be on your way."

I wasn't going to give these two creeps even the slightest leeway.

"Now don't be like that," protested the second boy, both of them moving closer. "You really need to get to know us better. You'll find we grow on you."

"Like fungus? Goodbye." I stepped forward to walk past them and away and was quite shocked when they grabbed me.

I promptly started to struggle, to make them get their hands off me. I was just opening my mouth to scream when one of them slapped his hand across my mouth.

"Let's not invite in any extras," he said with a laugh. "You'll find that we're more than enough to satisfy you."

I managed to twist my head to the side, not enough to remove the hand but enough to give me some leeway. I opened my mouth and bit down, hard. At the same time I kicked out at the second boy, scoring hard on his knee. The boy I was biting was now trying to get his hand free, yowling. The boy with the knee had sunk down to the floor, holding his knee, swearing something chronic. Apparently sensible shoes weren't just good for being on your feet all day.

My chew-toy managed to yank his hand free and push me away. He grabby gimpy by an arm and hauled him to his feet and the two boys beat feet out of there, apparently not wanting to stop and fight. I let them go.

With the boys departure I was angry enough to decide that a follow-up was required and went to report the matter to Mrs Fotheringham. If an assault on a teacher didn't warrant official action I didn't know what would. I was out of luck with seeing her.

"I'm afraid that she's fully booked for the afternoon and the next two days," her secretary informed me. "Unless it's urgent it will have to be put off for a while. Can someone else help you?"

The implication came across loud and clear. Don't bother Mrs Fotheringham. Sort the problem out yourself.

I smiled and said I'd talk to one of the more experienced teachers and get some advice from them and departed, deciding that I didn't like secretaries. Considering what to do and who to see I remembered Mrs Fotheringham telling me to speak to Sam Ogilvie and mentioning he was in charge of discipline. If anything was a matter of discipline, this was.

Before I went to see him I review the rules and regulations, wanting to be sure I understood all the rules. They seemed fairly straightforward. With my next class due in a few minutes I didn't have time to sit and talk with him right then but I did swing past his office and asked him if I could talk to him later. He smiled and said to see him in his office immediately after last bell and I'd have his full attention.

I carefully reviewed what had happened so that when I went and saw Sam later I was able to lay it all out succinctly and accurately, with a description of the two boys and what I'd done. Basically I had several questions I wanted answers to. What to do about those boys? Why would they try to jump me like that? What could I do to ensure that it doesn't happen again?

I approached Sam's office at the same time as a student. She politely indicated that I should go first and took a seat outside the office. I went in and greeted Sam.

Everything went as expected. Sam was sympathetic and helpful. He produced an album with the senior boys in it and I was able to pick out the two boys I'd tangled with. He told me to forget about them -- he'd handle it. That was fine by me. If I never saw them again I was OK with that, too.

"What I want to know was why they thought it was alright to treat me like that," I complained, "and what do I do to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"They're boys," said Sam, "and a certain type of boy sees every girl as a potential chance. They work on the principle that some girls do and if some girls do then all girls do and when those girls see their masculine charms they can't help but succumb. You need to ensure that the boys know that where you're concerned the some girls don't mantra comes to mind. Did I see Darcy sitting outside my office?"

I nodded and Sam laughed.

"I wonder what she's done this time. Invite her in for a moment."

I called Darcy in and she came in, looking nervous.

"You'll notice that Darcy's clothes are of a style similar to yours but she's never bother with unwanted attention. Well, I won't say never, but any attention that comes her way is very circumspect. Darcy, why don't you tell Miss Fanfield the story of numb-nuts Hogan?"

"I wasn't involved with that," Darcy said quickly.

"Yes, yes, but I'm sure you know the story well enough to tell Miss Fanfield."

"Um, yes, well, Hogan made a very crude pass at one of the girls, groping her in a way not to be tolerated. The girl grabbed him by the testicles, crushed them together, and then rubbed them hard against each other. While she had his attention she explained to him that if he ever groped her like that again she'd change his new nick-name from numb-nuts to no-nuts. It's been said that she pressed the edge of a knife again his groin, just to get the message across. That probably didn't happen as knives are against school rules and I'm sure the girl wouldn't dream of breaking the rules that way. I certainly wouldn't. She was just giving a hypothetical possibility if Hogan was stupid enough to test her again."

"And did the threat work?" asked Sam.

"Like a charm. The girl hasn't been bothered by unwanted attentions since."

"You see," Sam said to me. "Make a big enough impression the first time someone gets out of line and you'll find it carries through. According to what you told me I suspect that you made that sort of impression. I will, of course, emphasize it when I speak to them."

That answered my questions. They tried it on because they were idiots. My rather violent response should be enough to keep the other idiots out of my way. Just normal care should suffice.

"While you're here, Darcy, did you need to see me for something? Don't worry about Miss Fanfield. She'd busy learning out ways."

Darcy produced an envelope and handed it over, seeming a little reluctant. Sam took it and sighed.

"From Mr Wills, I see. Why don't you give me your version about what really happened?"

"Um, Mr Wills seemed to get the impression that I told him that if his drunken hands touched my breasts I was going to break them, not that I actually said that, he just misheard. Anyway, he wouldn't listen to reason and sent me for corporal punishment. Mrs Fotheringham is unavailable so I came here."

"Was Wills drunk?"

"If he thought he could grope my breasts he must have been. I don't need extra credit and he knows it."

"Okay, I'll look into that as well. If memory serves me correctly the last time you were assigned corporal punishment I let you off with a warning and a thousand word essay on the advantages of using tact and diplomacy when dealing with superiors, teachers included. I can't really let you off again when it appears that you totally failed to learn from writing the essay."

Oddly enough Darcy didn't seem upset over the fact that she was to be punished. If it wasn't such a silly idea I'd have thought she was excited. Her eyes flicked over to me and then back to Sam.

"It won't hurt Miss Fanfield to observe as part of her education," said Sam, "but if you prefer she can step out of the office for a few minutes."

"No, I don't mind," mumbled Darcy, blushing slightly and not looking at me.

Sam simply nodded and rose to his feet. He walked around his desk and sat on the other chair in front of the desk, nodding to Darcy. To my surprise she came closer to him and he calmly reached out and pulled her across his lap.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Corporal punishment," said Sam. "It's in the rules. Darcy is eighteen and doesn't need her parents to sign off on it as she signed her own copy of the rules, so all is in order."

"You're going to spank her?" I asked, scandalised.

"That's correct. Simplest method available. Also unlikely to actually cause damage the way a strap or a paddle might."

Put that way it made sense, but still. I sat back and said nothing.

Sam flicked Darcy's dress up, exposing her panties, panties which I was quite sure were nor regulation, not that I blamed her. I wouldn't wear the regulation panties either. Then I became scandalised all over again as Sam calmly pulled Darcy's panties down, exposing her bottom and everything. Bent over the way she was I could see everything, bottom and vulva, her plump lips on full display.

I could see Darcy was looking at me to see how I was going to react so I was very careful not to. For her part Darcy looked flushed and excited. She wanted this. Me watching was an added bonus as far as she was concerned. She was a tart, I decided.

Sam's hand came down firmly on Darcy's bottom. She jerked slightly in reaction but didn't make a sound. No squeals or protests -- just an acceptance that this was happening. He continued the spanking with me watching, slightly shocked.

After watching for a short while several things registered. He was certainly spanking her but the individual spanks weren't too hard. They would undoubtedly smart but they weren't bruising blows. She'd finish up with a tender and smarting bottom, but that was all. Well, it was almost all. Sam was being rather careless where the individual spanks landed.

Sure he was sharing the spanks equally between Darcy's left and right cheeks, but it seemed to me that a number of spanks were between her cheeks, landing on her vulva, effectively spanking Darcy's vulva along with her bottom. Her bottom was developing a nice flush from the spanking but her vulva was doing something else. As well as being rather flushed her pudenda were swelling and parting, her inner lips showing between them. I could see the gleam of moisture on her lips.

Sam reached a point where he apparently decided that enough was enough. He swung Darcy to her feet and she stood there facing him. Her hands were behind her, cupping her bottom, an action which managed to draw the front of her dress up, exposing her vulva. It was also exposing her state of readiness.

"You can turn around and bend over now," Sam said softly, and it came across as a suggestion, not a command. That didn't stop Darcy turning towards the desk and bending over it, bottom and vulva once more displayed.

I was surprised that she'd want the spanking to continue and then felt like a fool. It wasn't a spanking she was now waiting for. But... She was a student and Sam was a teacher. Surely she didn't really think that Sam would do anything, especially with me there.

Some people are delightfully naïve. Apparently I'm one of them. Sam started stroking her vulva, his fingers slipping between her lips. At the same time I heard the rasp of his zip and then he was pushing his trousers down. I could see why Darcy might be interested. Sam was, ah, what you might call well endowed.

Even as I watched he started stroking her with his cock, his erection well and truly stiff and ready. He lined up and started pushing and it was obvious to me that Darcy was pushing back to meet him. No virgin, that girl. She pushed hard to meet him, taking him fully into her with unseemly eagerness.

Even as Sam started pumping into her Darcy's fingers were hurriedly undoing the buttons on her blouse, letting it fall open, and pushing her bra up out of the way. Sam's hands came around and captured her breasts, and then he really got to work on her.

I was having trouble realising that I was watching a teacher in our school having sex with one of our students. Things like that just don't happen. It was terrible but, somehow or other, it was also erotic. I was getting aroused myself watching Sam driving into Darcy.

Darcy's bottom was bobbing up and down as she moved in unison with Sam, his cock sliding in and out, Sam taking his time and working Darcy over thoroughly. At first I'd thought that Sam was just banging away as fast as he could but now I realised it wasn't so. He was pacing himself, moving fast enough to keep Darcy interested but still prolonging the encounter.

Every so often Darcy would fling a look over her shoulder, watching Sam as he loomed over her. She also, I noticed, spared the time to look at me to see how I was reacting to their little exhibition, smirking away, knowing she was doing the wrong thing and knowing that there was nothing I could do about it.

Sam finally got to work and put some effort into finishing Darcy off, with Darcy giving a small scream as she climaxed. Sam pulled out of her and Darcy remained where she was, breathing hard. I was just looking from one to the other and then looking away, wondering what on earth I should do.

It turns out that what I should have been doing was beating feet out of there. Sam took a step towards me and started pushing me back against the desk, right next to Darcy.

"Your turn," he announced, smiling broadly.

"What?! What are you talking about?" I demanded.

Surely he couldn't mean.... It turned out he could and did.

I found myself pressed up against the desk, my bottom wedged against it. Sam lifted my dress, tucking it around my waist, and then he pushed my panties down, leaving me completely exposed.

"I thought you were looking a little aroused," Sam said, his hand rubbing against my vulva. "Let's see how you perform."

"You wouldn't dare," I said, not at all sure that was true.

It turned out it wasn't true, partly because of that little bitch, Darcy. She was standing next to me now, facing the action. Sam was spreading my lips and Darcy, a curse upon her, was holding Sam's erection and was steering it into place.

"Fair's fair," she told me. "You watched me, I get to watch you."

I'd have tried to argue the point but it's a bit hard to argue about something when you're totally distracted by a humongous dick thrusting its way into you.

I was all, "Sam, you can't," while Sam was undoing my blouse and pushing my bra out of the way. Now it was my turn to have my breasts manhandled while Sam started thrusting into me, with Darcy cheering him on and me, much to my annoyance, moving with him, riding him just as hard as he was riding me. Not my fault, I assure you. It was just that I was inadvertently aroused by him and Darcy.

For his part, Sam wasn't counting on that. He was working skilfully to build on my initial arousal, ensuring it started to build from his initial thrust. He was demonstrating he knew his way around a woman's body, and was working hard to showcase his skills.

He very quickly built me up until I was in a blissful state, quite happy to have him do what he would. I was reduced to a mindless need, a state that would have infuriated me if someone had suggested it was what I needed, but Sam had somehow passed all my defences. I just moved with him, doing what he wanted.

He skilfully brought me to a climax, timing it so he had his at the same time, and I could feel his hot seed spurting into me. I simply shuddered and gasped, my orgasm washing over me.

A short while later I was straightening my clothes, blushing furiously. Darcy had come to her senses and was in a like state, hurriedly dressing and blushing. Deciding that there was nothing more I wanted to say to Sam at that point I hastily departed, Darcy hot on my heels.

"You have to be careful when you visit Mr Ogilvie," Darcy said, "No matter what your reason. Are you a gambler?"

"No. Why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking of betting you that the next time you have to see him he'll have an excuse to spank you? Care to wager?"

"What? No! Anyway, I'm a teacher, not a student. He wouldn't dare."

Darcy walked away, laughing. I guess I could understand that. If what had just happened was any indication he'd most certainly dare. I sighed. Not the way I'd expected to start my teaching career.