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The History Teacher, Part One
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
"HISTORY TEACHER, PART ONE"
Lisa Harris attended high school in the deep South, in a
small town that seemed perpetually stuck in 1959. People
lived God-fearing lives, praised Jesus often, and still took
their kids to the woodshed for painful lessons, no matter how
politically incorrect it was to do so in the 1990's. The
high school principal still paddled kids, too, as did several
of the teachers, with the town's approval.
A senior and only child of the mayor, Lisa was popular and
spoiled. Her long blonde hair and blue eyes were matched
by her traffic-stopping figure, which she revealed in an
acceptable way by becoming head cheerleader. She had permission,
in a sense, to run around school in her skimpy outfit,
teasing students and teachers alike with her full breasts and
round, pert bottom, which peeked out below the outfit's
short skirt. Lisa was no fool. She never let the boys get
much, she didn't go steady, and she attended church every
Sunday, so externally she seemed the perfect good girl. Not
once had the teachers or the principal had reason to paddle
her, although some would have loved to. Lisa also made straight
A's, and was the hands-down favorite to graduate as the
valedictorian, so she was as smart as she was pretty, no matter
how dumb she played at times, batting her eyes. She drove
an old but cherry Corvette that had been her 16th birthday
present; her daddy was good at graft. Some rumored that he
would be governor soon.
But Lisa underneath was a smoldering mass of desperate desire.
She knew what she was looking for, and so far it couldn't be
found in her small town. That is, until the new history
teacher came to town. Mr. Richard DeWitt had impeccable academic
credentials, as a graduate of Emory in Atlanta. He was also,
the students whispered, one of those who paddled, and paddled
hard, in addition to being a tough taskmaster when it came
to learning history. Some were a little afraid of him. Lisa
got her first look at him when she walked into her senior
year homeroom. There, Mr. DeWitt was writing his name on the
board and surveying the class with a somber face. Her heart
fluttered a bit as she took in his tall, dark, and handsome
good looks. He was, as mothers were wont to say, as good-
looking as the very devil, and just a dangerous to a young
girl's virtue. He couldn't have been over 30. When he put
his glasses on to read the roll, Lisa thought her knees had
turned to water as she felt a funny, sinking sensation in
her stomach, much like she felt while riding the roller coaster
at nearby Six Flags. He was clean-shaven and looked like a
studious young seminary type, oblivious to his own handsomeness.
"Lisa! Lisa Harris!"
Oh Lord, Lisa thought, he's talking to me, and he doesn't look
happy. She felt uneasy as she remembered the rumors about
how he loved to paddle students for the slightest infraction.
She wondered what she had done in the first five minutes of
the school year to merit his scowling face!
"Lisa! Please sit down, Miss Harris, that is, if you plan
to attend school in my homeroom," he snapped sternly. It was
then that Lisa realized she had been standing next to her
desk, transfixed by this dark, mysterious, scary but altogether
HUNKY teacher. She gulped and sat down quickly. "S-sorry,
Mr. DeWitt."
He glared at her over his glasses, and Lisa suddenly realized
how hot she was, especially in the area that she had forbidden
all the local boys to touch. She squirmed in her seat and
lowered her eyes submissively.
"That's much better, Miss Harris. You know, just because
you're the mayor's daughter doesn't mean I'll allow you to
get away with anything. I'm sure you've heard the rumors,"
he smiled nastily at the class, "that I paddle, and indeed
I do. I take no nonsense and I expect instant obedience.
Furthermore, if you are ever late for homeroom without a
darned good reason that I can verify with your parents, you
will get one lick for each minute that you are late. I
prefer to paddle after school, and then make you sit while
you write out some penalty sentences. I also make sure that
your parents find out, so you can get what you deserve at
home, too."
"And for those of you who are taking the academic track,
you will have me for senior year political science as well
as homeroom." His grin was now friendlier but clearly still
stern. "So _enjoy_," he said sarcastically.
Lisa was beginning to sweat. God, he was gorgeous. Oh,
God, I've got him for homeroom and poli sci. Dear Lord,
what am I going to do? Lisa was used to getting her way.
She had easily charmed teachers in the past, and she certainly
was used to getting A's without much work. She had a feeling
that things weren't going to be so easy with Mr. DeWitt.
Lisa went about her morning after homeroom, and lingered a
bit too long in the cafeteria, flirting with the star running
back that had taken her school to two state championships,
because in the South, football is taken as seriously as religion.
Suddenly she realized whose class she was late for: Mr.
DeWitt's, the handsome, stern, likely-to-paddle-her-bottom
Mr. DeWitt. Way back in her mind, she thought she might not
mind a private session with the gorgeous new teacher, while
the rest of her was screaming, "GET TO CLASS!!" Lisa had
never been spanked by anyone, not even on her birthday, so
she had a certain fear of it. (Those who actually had been
paddled, of course, had a much stronger fear. Lisa was
blissfully ignorant of the potential pain.)
Lisa walked as quickly as she could to class; she dared not
run, for that would have earned her a trip to the principal's
office if she was caught. Holding her breath, she turned
the doorknob as quietly as she could; Lisa tried to sneak in
while Mr. DeWitt's back was turned. But just as she reached
the first empty seat, thinking she was home free, she froze
at the nearness of the voice behind her.
"Well, well, it's Miss Harris. Somehow I knew you were going
to be troublesome." He grinned at her frightened face and
some of the students snickered, for they were jealous of Lisa
and were secretly hoping she'd get it good after school.
"You're a spoiled brat, thinking you can just waltz into my
class TWO MINUTES LATE!" He stood there, towering over her,
his arms crossed, his brown eyes glinting behind his horn-rimmed
glasses. Lisa was in a half-sitting position, seemingly frozen
by his nearness. "By all means, sit down, Miss Harris. Come
see me after school and," he added menacingly, "don't you DARE
be late."
Lisa sank into her chair, sweating and squirming. Oh, Lord,
she'd done it now. Her daddy had never whipped her, mostly
because she tried to appear good successfully, but she was
not sure what he would do once he heard that his precious Lisa
had had her bottom blistered by the new teacher. She gulped.
Daddy might give her a repeat performance!
The rest of the day flew by much too quickly, and Lisa found
herself at Mr. DeWitt's door before she knew it. Swallowing
hard and straightening her shoulders, she marched in. She
knew enough that, in these situations, you were much worse
off if you showed any fear.
Mr. DeWitt looked up from his desk. A smile spread slowly
across his face, a nasty smile. "Why, Miss Harris. The
end of the school day did come rather quickly, didn't it?
And I am pleased. You are exactly on time; much better than
earlier today." He sat there, taking off his glasses,
studying her, trying to psych her out. She returned his
look with a steady gaze. "Perhaps I shall go easy on you.
It IS the first day of school and you were only two minutes
late. It's hardly worth warming up my paddling arm for only
two swats."
Lisa suddenly realized that Mr. DeWitt _knew_ she WANTED to
be paddled. She now knew it too, and she also knew that he
was going to make her beg for it. Oh well, she thought, here
goes, before I chicken out.
Lisa hung her head and acted crushed. "Yes, sir, Mr. DeWitt,
I'm really sorry I was late today. Thanks for letting me off
this time, and please don't tell my daddy." Lisa looked
slyly at him through her lashes. "Daddy might take his belt
to me." A bald-faced lie!
Richard DeWitt studied her some more, enjoying the game. Oh, yes,
he thought, she's going to be a lot of fun to paddle, maybe
the best I've ever had. And this business about her daddy
taking his belt to her is crap. This spoiled young miss had
never had the belt laid on her backside her entire life.
Perhaps she had been spanked a little, though. She was dying
to taste the forbidden fruit, it was clear.
"Why, Miss Harris, I believe firmly in a parent's right to
discipline his wayward child. We teachers paddle in school
only because the parents neglect their duty to warm a young
bottom regularly. So perhaps I should tell your daddy."
Lisa's mouth was dry, in counterpoint to the wetness she felt
down below. At first she thought she'd wet herself before she
realized how excited she was. "Mr. DeWitt, please sir," she
croaked, "I would much rather you deal with me than my daddy.
I think you'd go easier on me than he would." Lisa tried a
smile, but it was weak. Her heart was pounding so hard she
thought it could be seen through her thin blouse.
His smile grew bigger, and he moved so that the bulge in his
pants was not noticeable. Thank God he wore loose-fitting
chinos! Yes, indeed, this one really, really wanted it. Oh,
yes! Now I only have to get her to actually _ask_ for it, he
thought. That way, I'm covered in case I'm brought up before the
school board, like I was in Ashley.
"Well, young lady, I am inclined to just let you go, if you
promise me you won't ever be late again. I won't even tell
your daddy; how's that? Just write 100 times, 'I shall never,
ever be late for Mr. DeWitt's class again' and hand it in
tomorrow morning. That should be sufficient punishment."
He sat down and put his glasses back on, dismissing her with
a wave of his hand.
Lisa's heart sank. She was so disappointed and yet relieved.
How could she get him to paddle her? No, no, better get out
of here before he changes his mind! "Thank you, sir, you
won't regret it," she gasped, and, forgetting all decorum,
she spun around and raced out of the room.
Richard DeWitt looked after her. He was sad that she hadn't begged
for it. Still, he thought as he smiled to himself, she'll
find a way to make me paddle her. That's what her type
always does. It's just a matter of days. He adjusted his
throbbing erection and thought about going home, where he
could take care of himself privately.
END OF PART ONE
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