My Name is Mandy Ch. 01

My name is Mandy. This experience happened to me when I was a senior in high school, about six years ago. I have never written about it or told anyone about it until now because I find myself overcome with embarrassment whenever I think about what happened with my Literature teacher, Mr. Fuller. But I also find myself aroused at the very thought of what happened between us, which I think adds to my embarrassment. As the event becomes more and more distant, I realized that I had to write down my memories of that afternoon in order to keep them from fading away.

I had just turned 18, and I wasn't entirely innocent. I had fooled around with several boys, but after many less than satisfying experiences, I decided I wanted a man. I also, I think, wanted something of a challenge. It was pretty easy to seduce high school boys, but I wondered if I could have the same effect on an older man.

I decided that man would be Mr. Fuller, my sixth period Literature teacher. He was a dark haired handsome man in his middle to late 30s, and although I still to this day can't fully grasp why, he had an almost hypnotic effect on me. He had a very strong, but not overbearing presence, and a control of the classroom that very few teachers could equal. I had never been the best reader, but as soon as he became my teacher in senior year, I found myself consuming every book he assigned with abandon. I wanted to impress him, and I couldn't bear the thought of him not liking me.

I became the best student in his class. I was that annoying girl who he would call on to give the correct answer after every other student had demonstrated his or her ignorance. While I relished my role as his "teacher's pet", I gradually grew disappointed that this position seemed to offer very little except for his occasional words of praise. I wanted him to have a crush on me, but he continued to keep the relationship between us strictly that of teacher/student. Even when I started dressing more provocatively, it didn't seem to have an effect on him.

So I decided that if I wanted something to happen, I had to start using "guerrilla tactics". I had to make the first move, and take action in a way he couldn't possibly refuse. I made up my mind, one Friday afternoon in April, that I was going to stay after school for the purpose of giving Mr. Fuller a handjob. I was still a virgin, and had never seriously entertained the idea of oral sex. I had given many handjobs before and I loved the power it gave me over boys. It was amazing to me how just a few strokes of my hand over a boy's penis would make him beg and plead to finish him off. By the time the guy was ready to come, I could have made him agree to anything. When I was a junior, I used this technique to make a boy do my entire science project for me. We were in his car kissing and he started putting his hand up my skirt. I stopped him, and reached under his jeans to keep him from being too disappointed. Pretty soon I had his pants around his ankles. When he almost reached the point of climax, I started with the whole "Oh no, I can't" act. He begged and pleaded, and finally I offered him the release he wanted more than anything in the world if would do my science project for me, He wasn't too happy about having to do two science projects, but he sure enjoyed what I did for him, and I loved that feeling of feminine power. I wanted Mr. Fuller to be putty in my hands the way the boy from science class had been.

Friday morning I made sure to look my best. I put my long blonde hair into a ponytail, and wore my tightest fitting blouse. I figured if I was to have any chance of pulling this off, I needed to perfect the coquettish schoolgirl look, and so I wore my plaid skirt, white socks, and Mary Jane pumps. I got more attention than usual from the boys at school, but I managed to keep them at bay.

When I entered Mr. Fuller's classroom, I pulled out my compact. I pretended to be putting on makeup. In reality, I was checking out Mr. Fuller (who was behind me) and his reaction to my outfit. I could see him attempting to discretely sneak glances at me. Perfect!

During class, we were discussing "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn". I sat in the front row, and I made sure to keep my legs parted just enough for him to see up my skirt. Several times, I caught him looking, although I pretended not to notice. One time, he was so preoccupied with looking at my panties while I answered his question about the symbolism of the Mississippi river that he stopped listening and made me repeat my answer. I did my best to stifle a giggle, thinking to myself, "I own him now".

Or so I thought.

When the class finally ended, I walked up to Mr. Fuller's desk. "Mr. Fuller," I said "can I stick around after class to talk to you about some things in Huck Finn? Some of it is hard to understand."

He was busy with some papers on his desk and he answered without even looking up at me. "Mandy, I have to grade papers. Maybe another time...."

"Please, Mr. Fuller!" I whined, cutting him off. "I'm afraid I'll get more confused if I read on without fully understanding all of it."

Finally, he looked up at me. "All right, Mandy," he sighed. "Give me an hour to get started on these papers. Come back at four and I'll have some time for you."

I left the class and walked to the library, a little disappointed. I was sure after what had happened in class that he would jump at the chance to be alone with me. But I had to practically beg to get an appointment with him. I started to question whether the plan was going to work. As four o'clock approached, I nervously walked to his classroom. My earlier confidence had been shattered, but I was determined to make it happen.

He was still grading papers when I arrived in the classroom. When he saw me, he got up from his desk, and motioned for me to take my seat. He appeared much friendlier than before.

"Mandy, I'm sorry I couldn't see you earlier," He said as he sat down in the desk next to me. "I have a dinner party tonight and I just had to get an early jump on those papers or else I'd be working on them all weekend."

"That's okay, Mr. Fuller", I said, feeling my confidence come back. "I'm just happy you could see me at all. It's very nice of you to help me." I began to part my legs a little, as I had done in class earlier.

"So tell me what you don't understand about Huck Finn, Mandy." He seemed to making a concerted effort to avoid looking up my skirt. "You seem to be getting it better than the rest of the class."

I parted my legs wide and hiked my skirt up past my thighs. Now there was no way he could pretend not to notice.

"Mandy, what are you doing?" he asked me crossly.

"Mr. Fuller," I said as I unbuttoned my blouse, "I've really enjoyed having you teach me Literature this year". I continued unbuttoning my white blouse as I went over the speech I had prepared the night before. "I've so loved the books we've read, and your lectures about them. I really want to show you how much I appreciate you, Mr. Fuller. You work so hard, and teaching is such a thankless job. I want you to enjoy what I can do for you, Mr. Fuller."

And then I went in for the kill. I stood up out of my seat and kneeled in front of Mr. Fuller's desk, placing my right hand on his crotch.

"Mandy, ss-ss-stop that right now", he stuttered meekly.

"But Mr. Fuller", I said, rubbing his crotch over his pants, with no intention of stopping. "I know you like me, and I like you too. I want to make you happy, and I know you're enjoying this", I purred as I felt him harden.

He continued to half-heartedly ask me to stop, but I knew that it was for show; perhaps to salve his conscience about accepting a handjob from an 18 year old student. I gently glided my fingers over his crotch for about a minute. I knew that by now, he must have been dying for me to pull his pants down and touch his manhood, skin-to-skin. The plan was going so well, that I decided to deviate from the script and improvise a little. That was my mistake.

"Mr. Fuller, do you want me to touch your penis with your pants down?", I asked coquettishly. His eyes were closed, and he was clearly startled by the interruption of my offer, but he wasn't about to let it pass.

"Oh God, Mandy......oh....yes, please." He was past the point of backing out now, I thought. And with my next utterance, I set in motion to chain of events that led to the experience that still brings an intense rush of pleasure and shame to me each time I recall it.

"Mr. Fuller," I said brimming with confidence, looking up at him, into his eyes, "I will rub your bare cock until you come, provided you can guarantee me an 'A' in your class. Not an 'A-', an 'A'"

All of the sudden, his mood changed. His eyes opened wide, and he appeared less focused on what I was doing to his crotch. He remained silent as I begin furiously rubbing him, hoping that my increased tempo would bring him more pleasure, and change his mood back to where I wanted it. But it was to no avail.

"So," I sputtered, finding my voice trail off as I lost confidence, "Um...do we have a deal?"

"Sit down, Mandy!" He thundered as he stood up, causing my heart to sink to the pit of my stomach. He walked over to his desk and sat down behind it. He pulled some forms out of the top drawer of his desk and began furiously writing on it. I was too terrified to ask what was happening.

After about five minutes, he looked up at me.

"I'm reporting this incident, Mandy", he said coldly, and looked back down at his papers.

I felt my heart sink even further at what he had sad. I had considered the possibility that he would report me. I had always imagined the worst that could have happened was that he would refuse me, and then never bring up what had happened. I could never have imagined that he would be willing to make known what had happened.

"This will be embarrassing for me, Mandy", he said as if reading my thoughts. "But it will be much worse for you. I think I can prove you were the aggressor in this incident. Everyone in sixth period will confirm what you were doing with your skirt in class".

And then I lost it. I started to cry. How could everything have gone so horribly wrong?

"Please, Mr. Fuller!", I begged. "Don't report me! I'm so sorry. I was wrong to do what I did. I didn't mean to....I....I...."

"You suckered me in, and then tried to press your advantage, Mandy. You've obviously done this before, haven't you?"

I couldn't speak through the tears He saw right through me. Finally, he looked up at me.

"Mandy, I'm not going to report you..."

"Oh! Thank you, Mr. Fuller," I said cutting him off, relieved beyond words at his change of heart.

"Let me finish, Mandy!" he shouted. I sat quietly wiping my tears, as I listened to him.

"What I was going to say, Mandy, is that I will not report you if, "he paused, "you agree to be punished off the record. By me."

"Oh, of course, Mr. Fuller!" I gushed, not having the slightest clue what he had in store for me.

"You must accept your punishment without protest and without hesitation, Mandy, no matter what I deem appropriate"

I became slightly concerned, but I knew that whatever he had in mind couldn't possibly be worse than the shame of having my failed attempt at seduction reported to the principal and to my parents.

"Mr. Fuller, I promise I'll do whatever you say", I vowed.

He instructed me to take off my shoes. I wasn't sure why, but as I reached down to take off my black Mary Janes, I watched him rifle through one of his desk drawers. I had no idea what he was planning at this point, but the longer he rifled through his desk, the more apprehensive I became.

"Come to the desk, Mandy", he instructed.

I walked over to his desk, feeling slightly shorter for having taken off my shoes. As I approached the desk, he stood up from his chair, and for the first time, I saw what was in his hand. It was a wooden ruler.

"Do you know what this is for, Amanda", he asked. I was already nervous from having seen the ruler, but hearing him call me by my given name put me even more off balance, which was obviously what he had intended.

"I...I think so, Mr. Fuller." I had heard of teachers, a long time ago, applying the ruler to a student's wrists as a form of discipline. I never thought it would happen to me, but I resigned myself to what I thought was my fate and held out my wrists for him.

He chuckled. "No, Amanda. That's not what the ruler is for". And at that moment, I realized what he intended to do with the ruler, the second before I heard him utter the words, "Bend over the desk, Amanda, and grasp the far desk legs." He was going to use the ruler to spank me.

I froze as I contemplated what I could do to extricate myself from this situation. I think I began to stammer some words of protest because he quickly said to me, "I don't want to hear another from you, Amanda. Do as you're told." And with that, I had no choice but to do what Mr. Fuller commanded. I bent over the desk. I had to stretch my body to get far enough to reach the desk legs, as he had ordered. When I was able to reach them, I realized that in stretching across the desk, my skirt had to have risen a little. I was mortified at the thought of my teacher seeing the bottom of my panties. I know it seems crazy considering that I had spent fifth period flashing panty shots at him, but it was completely different knowing he was looking at my panties as I lay bent over his desk. I felt humiliated.

I turned my head to the side to watch what he was doing, but he quickly snapped, in a raised voice, for me to keep my eyes forward. Not being able to anticipate what was happening made me even more apprehensive, and I felt a rush of butterflies in my tummy as he gently touched the ruler to my bottom, over my skirt and panties.

"Amanda, I hope you enjoyed showing me your panties this afternoon. I think it's only fair that you show me all of your panties, Amanda". And with those words, I felt my skirt being lifted by the ruler and draped over my back.

I was still in a daze at the prospect of being spanked with a ruler while bent over my teacher's desk, and here he had just lifted my skirt. I wasn't sure how to react. I was simultaneously humiliated at the fact that I was now presenting my butt to him covered by nothing but a pair of cotton panties, and scared beyond comprehension at the fact that he would be applying the ruler to my waiting bottom. Why did I have to try to coerce him into giving me a grade I didn't deserve? Why couldn't I have just made him come as I had wanted? I thought maybe I could salvage the situation.

"Mr. Fuller," I spoke softly, keeping my head forward. "I'm so sorry for what I did. Please understand, Sir, that I feel completely humiliated right now. I can't even express to you how embarrassed I am. I have learned my lesson, Mr. Fuller. Please spare me the ruler. I'll finish what I started, Mr. Fuller. I'll give you what I offered you, and you don't have to give me an 'A', Mr. Fuller.

I heard him put down the ruler, and then he walked in front of me. I prematurely congratulated myself for having talked him out of spanking my bottom with the ruler. But then he reached into the desk drawer and pulled out what looked like silk scarves.

Before I had a chance to react, he wrapped one of the scarves around my left wrist and tied it in a knot. Then he tied the rest of the scarf to the desk leg, making it impossible for me to get up from the desk. Then he did the same with my right wrist.

Then he smiled.

"Amanda," he said softly, "the game is over. You're not going to be able to talk your way out of your spanking now, young lady." I recoiled at first at being spoken to as a little girl, especially while he prepared to punish me like a little girl. But the more he spoke, I found myself, strangely and curiously, becoming more and more aroused at my complete lack of control, and his eagerness to use his power over me to humiliate me. Never in my life had a man exercised so much control over me, especially in sexual situations, where I had been the one calling the shots. I started to feel a dampness between my legs when he walked back behind me and began to gently trace the ruler up and down the sides of my legs. I prayed he would not notice what was happening between my legs.

"Now Amanda", he said with complete confidence. "I want to explain the rules to you. You're going to receive eight strokes. You will count each stroke, and thank me"

I couldn't believe he was going to make me count each stroke and thank him each time he thrashed by bottom with the ruler. He was going to be cruel in the execution of this punishment, but I found his cruelty intoxicating.

"And Amanda," he continued, "you will rise to your tiptoes and remain there until I have finished. If you fail to stay on your tiptoes, I will have no choice but to start over"

So this was why he wanted me to take my shoes off! I could not help but admire the planning that he had put into this. He could not possibly have come up with this on the fly. I then realized that I could not have been the first girl he had done this to.

As I rose to my tiptoes, I realized that the position caused my bottom to tilt upward, and the wetness between my legs would be visible if I didn't keep my legs together. Momentarily, I disregarded those concerns to make sure that I focused on keeping myself propped up on my tiptoes so as not to extend the punishment. My years of ballet training were good for something, I thought.

I felt the first stroke of the ruler hit my bottom, and I screamed out in pain. The stroke landed on the bottom of my cheek, below my panties, which my stretching had caused to rise. The initial pain subsided into more of a prolonged sting, which caused me to dance involuntarily, as I struggled to stay on my tiptoes.

"One, Thank you, Mr. Fuller", I said meekly. As I thanked him for his cruelty towards my bottom, I felt a rush of euphoria spread over me. I adored this man, and for some reason I couldn't understand, I loved what he was doing to me. He had me completely under his control, and his domination of me was more arousing than anything I had experienced before. I had never been around a strong man before, and now I truly knew what it meant to be aroused by someone. I felt my panties dampen as the he applied the second, third, and fourth stroke to my bottom, and I thanked him for doing so.

Mr. Fuller stopped after the fourth stroke. I briefly wondered if maybe he was going to give me reprieve. He walked to the front of the desk and began to untie the scarves from the desk. I was somewhat relieved that it appeared to be over.

"Don't move, Amanda", he instructed. I remained motionless as he finished untying the scarves. Then he walked back behind me.

"You have a beautiful bottom, Amanda. You know that don't you?", he asked.

I wasn't sure what to say. Fortunately, he didn't wait for me to answer. "I'd like to see it all, Amanda".

Again, I was at a loss for words. My bottom was still on fire from the four strokes he had delivered that it must not have full sunk in what he was demanding of me. He was going to pull my panties down! As humiliating as this experience had been, I knew that it was nothing compared to the next step - seeing me fully naked, bent over his desk. And surely he was not going to be content just to see my nude body. Was he going to spank me on the bare? The pain that I felt on my bottom from his four strokes on my panties was almost more than I could take. I could not imagine being spanked on the bare.

"Please, Mr. Fuller", I begged. "Please, I can't take being spanked on the bare. Anything but that. Please?" I was crying and as I turned my head back to look at him through my tears, I could see him contemplating the next step.