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The History Teacher, Part Two
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 TWO"
Lisa lay across her bed and pouted. She really did want to
be paddled by the exciting Mr. DeWitt. She didn't think she
should try something as obvious as deliberately being late.
Suddenly she had it. She would use her word processor to
produce her 100 sentences; that would be sure to piss him off.
The next day Lisa arrived a little early for homeroom, and
breathlessly laid the printout on the desk in front of the
stern Mr. DeWitt.
He actually laughed. "Why, Miss Harris, how clever you are
to use your computer so you wouldn't have to get writer's
cramp! I salute you, my dear, you have exceeded my expectations.
I'm glad you're smart enough to use a computer." His eyes
glinted merrily but with a bit of malice lurking around the
edges. "Go sit down, dear, homeroom will start soon." He
resisted adding, "while you can still sit, my dear."
"Yes, Mr. DeWitt." Lisa was sorely disappointed, yet again
a part of her said, yippeee! I got off scot-free!
She went to her seat and, without realizing she was doing it,
pouted quite noticeably.
"MISS HARRIS!!"
Lisa snapped out of her daydream, the one where she was bent
over Mr. DeWitt's desk, her bottom sticking out and her short
skirt no protection at all, his strong arms pumping the paddle
against her butt over and over, and she was crying and gasping
with pleasure all at once..."Yes, Mr. DeWitt?"
"Wipe that nasty-looking pout off your face!" His look told
her at once: he knows what I was thinking about. She made
her face expressionless. "Yes, sir!" Some of the others
sensed something strange was going on, and nervous giggles
filled the classroom, until the teacher glared at the entire
class, declaring, "Whoever would like an appointment with my
paddle after school, just keep giggling!" That quieted things
down quickly.
Lisa had to resist the urge to giggle and shout, Me, me, I want
an appointment with your paddle, Mr. DeWitt! But she did
smile to herself, and he noticed that she did.
The next week passed uneventfully, with Richard DeWitt playing Lisa
like a champion-sized trout. He knew she was struggling with
her desires and just let it ride. She was convinced that
she was absolutely DYING to get paddled and, at the same time,
DYING to keep her bottom as virgin as the rest of her. She
longed for him and, for the first time ever, began to touch
herself at night, fantasizing about Mr. DeWitt and his hunky
good looks and his large, large paddle.
Finally, the tension between them had to be acknowledged and
broken. Subconsciously she provided the opportunity.
Mr. DeWitt was giving the class their weekend assignment when
he noticed that Lisa was whispering and giggling with another
girl. He cared nothing for paddling the other one, but Lisa!
Now was his chance!
"MISS HARRIS!!" He roared, scaring the whole class out of their
wits. "WHAT IS SO FUNNY? PERHAPS YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE..."
Lisa gulped. She sensed her bottom's fate was now sealed.
There was no going back. "Nuh-nossir, no, I wouldn't."
Everyone was silent, except for one long, low whistle. Lisa
Harris was about to have a painful close encounter with
Mr. DeWitt's paddle, and everyone knew it. Even those who
were jealous of her were secretly afraid for her. Mr. DeWitt's
reputation was that you couldn't sit for days after only
five of his paddle's blows. Some hung their heads, afraid to
look up, afraid they too would get it.
He gazed at his beautiful Lisa and the bold, scared look on
her face. Her defiance would cost her dearly, yes, it would.
And they would both love it. "What do you mean, no, you
wouldn't care to share?" he growled.
Shaking, she managed to continue to meet his gaze. "Just what
I said, Mr. DeWitt. I wouldn't care to share it with the entire
class. It was private."
Coolly he said, "Then you will have a private session with my
paddle, Miss Harris, immediately after school. I urge you
NOT to be late. And sit while you can," he added, "I urge
you to do that, as well."
Lisa's face was burning with embarrassment and she was pretty
flushed under her panties as well. Finally, it was set in
motion. Nothing she could do now except wait for 3:00...
At 3:01, Lisa Harris moved slowly into the classroom. She
knew it would add an extra thrill to be just a tiny bit late,
and that her backside would pay the price. Still, she was
so relieved and happy that, _finally_, she was going to
meet her destiny with Mr. DeWitt and his famous paddle. But
that didn't mean she wasn't scared out of her wits over the
possible pain involved. She was glad that it was a Friday;
no classes to sit in until Monday, and she probably could fake
being sick all weekend to get out of sitting in that hard
church pew for two hours on Sunday. She realized with a start
that she most likely would not feel too good after her paddling,
so acting sick might not be such a stretch.
He looked over his glasses at her with such sternness that
she was ready to melt into a puddle of wanting at his feet.
"Well, Miss Harris, on top of your impudence in class today,
I see you have the temerity to be one minute late! You are
testing my patience in the extreme, missy. I was all set to
let you go with a warning, too."
Let me go?? Lisa wondered. What was this? "I thought I had a
date with your paddle, sir. A _private_ date." God, she
couldn't believe she actually said that out loud! Lisa swallowed
visibly.
He had her. He knew it and she knew it. He also knew that
this was the closest he would get to getting her to beg for
it. It was time to do the deed.
Mr. DeWitt sighed. "Yes, Miss Harris, I did say that, didn't
I? And I am a man of my word. So you leave me no choice but
to paddle you severely." His gaze burned into hers. She
gasped a little when he stressed the word "severely." Oh,
God, it was really going to happen! Lisa panicked and began
to whimper. "Oh, please, please, Mr. DeWitt, sir, please
let me go with a warning! Please, don't paddle me!" she
squeaked in fright.
He smiled that menacing smile of his. Ah, yes, life was good.
This was too perfect.
"Lisa," he stressed the use of her first name, something he had
not done since the first day of school, "you are going to get
the paddling of your life. You will still not be sitting
without pain when you return to this classroom on Monday
morning. And everyone will know, too. You will die of
embarrassment then, but tonight you will want to die from
the pain!" He leaned forward until his face was inches from
hers. "And you're going to love it!" he whispered.
She could barely breathe, and was gulping. "But sir, I've never
been paddled in my whole life."
"You mean your daddy have never taken the belt to you? You LIED
to me about that? That means extra licks, young lady!" He was
beside himself with delight. His erection was rock hard.
She hung her head, truly afraid for the first time. This was no
game! "Yes, sir, I lied," she mumbled. "I've never been spanked in
any way whatsoever."
He could hardly believe his luck. A complete virgin! "You mean
you've never had even one little tap on your behind?"
"No, sir, not even one," she whispered hoarsely.
He thought he would either drool with lust or come right then and
there. This was the penultimate encounter with young, nubile
female bottomflesh: a complete virgin whom he now had the excuse,
no, the sacred DUTY, to punish with extra strokes. Unconsciously
he began swinging his arms to and fro, warming up for the home
runs he hoped to spank on her backside. He couldn't wait to
find out if she would take it with quiet sobs, or scream; if she
would beg, or not; if she would wiggle and jump all about, or
stoically take it. And as for afterwards, when it was his
solemn responsibility to comfort her as she cried and rubbed her
swollen rear-end, maybe he'd even offer to rub it for her...
He stood, taking advantage of his full height of 6'3". He knew
how devastating this would be for her, and some small part of
his heart pitied the young girl who was about to suffer so much
at his hands. He liked the fact that she was taller than most,
but he still had at least a half a foot on her. She had to tilt
her head back to look in his eyes, so he took her chin in his
hand and held her gaze steady.
"Now, before we start, sugar, you had better understand that we will
not stop until I decide you've had enough. You can walk out that
door right now, but you will get an automatic "F" in poli sci
and won't graduate...and you'll have to face me again next year.
So you don't really have any cards to play here. Time to ante up,
darlin', and take your medicine like a good girl."
Lisa was about to faint. "Yes, sir, I'm ready," she breathed.
He released her chin and resumed swinging his arms. "Then stand
in front of my desk, honey, and place your forearms flat on its top.
Bend way over and arch your back, so that your little bottom
sticks way, way out for me." Mr. DeWitt was speaking gently to
her, as sweet as pie. "Spread your legs wide, as wide as you can.
C'mon now sugar, do it right for old Mr. DeWitt." She stifled a
smile at the word "old."
"Time's a-wastin', let's go, darlin'!"
Lisa quickly moved into position; it felt so natural. Her
breathing was loud and raspy, and her breath audibly caught in
her throat when he gently, slowly raised her skirt to her waist.
"Mr. DeWitt!" she gasped. She couldn't believe that he actually
was looking at her pantied bottom. Richard DeWitt knew he was
looking at something no other man had been allowed to gaze upon,
and he was moved by the complete innocence of this woman-child.
What a pity it was about to end.
"Miss Harris, surely you know that I always paddle on the bare."
"My BARE BACKSIDE??" Lisa squealed. "NO!!!" She was beyond
embarrassment; she was totally mortified. Lisa was not yet
worried about the pain, only that this grown man was going to
see her naked. Why, with her legs spread, he was going to see
all of her private parts, even her little butthole!
"MISS HARRIS. As I said, you can walk out that door, but there
go your college plans, plus I'll be waiting with the paddle for
you next year, my dear." His voice once again had that malicious
edge. "So you're better off taking your licks now." Richard's
voice now took on a slightly sanctimonious tone. "Think of me
as your doctor, honey, a professional. Your naked bottom means
no more than that to me. I punish young ladies' naked bottoms
all the time, my dear." Well, that much was true. But it was
a complete lie that her lovely round ass meant nothing to him! He
thought he was going to explode in his pants before he even landed
the first blow.
She moaned in shame. "Yes, sir, whatever you say, Mr. DeWitt."
She moaned again as he slowly lowered her schoolgirl's cotton
panties to just below her bottom, then lowered them some more until
they were at her knees. He could smell her arousal. He knew
now, for sure, that she was as sexually excited as he was.
"Are you ready, my dear? Brace yourself for the first blow."
"Yes, sir," Lisa said in a brave but shaky voice. She turned to catch
sight of the paddle. Good God! It was a foot and a half long, five
inches wide, and at least a half-inch thick! "Uh, sir, I want to
think this ov-"
"ONE!" He thundered and swung. The crack of the paddle on the
virginal territory was nothing compared to the wail that came from
her mouth. "AAAYYYIEEE! Dear God!" Her bottom had a nice red
strip across the lower half. "Sir," she panted, "How many am I
to get?" He had never said!
Lisa heard the grin in his voice. "That's for me to know and
your bottom to find out, sugar. TWO!" Lisa's screech filled
the air. So, he thought, she's a screamer.
"THREE!" Lisa's hands grabbed her smarting cheeks and she groaned
loudly. "Miss Harris, you will kindly remove your hands _right now_
or you will get penalty licks."
Lisa's hands never moved so fast. The last thing she wanted was
extra paddling, for she was discovering that her modesty was the
least of her troubles. How could she have ever wanted to be
paddled? This hurt like holy hell! Geez, she'd never do anything
as stupid as this again. "FOUR!" "FIVE!" "SIX!"
"OH STOP, OH MOTHER OF GOD, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!" Lisa was dancing
from foot to foot, moving her bottom up, down, and sideways, and
begging for him to stop. Ah, Richard thought, a screamer, a wiggler,
_and_ a begger. Who would have thought? I had her pegged as the
sobbing, stoic type, because I thought she had more character.
She really is just a spoiled brat. Cute, though.
"Oh, Mr. DeWitt, really sir, really I'll be good, I'll never talk
in class again, I'll never be late, only please, please stop
hitting me with the paddle. My poor behind feels broken in two."
Lisa babbled on, while Richard DeWitt stood back, surveying his
handiwork and delighting in her abject begging. Lisa's round,
full ass was a deep red from halfway down her crack to her upper
thighs. He placed his hand an inch or so from the surface and
felt the fierce heat radiating from her well-thrashed backside.
There were signs of bruising here and there. Altogether a very
good piece of work, Richard thought with the satisfaction of an
artist painting a tableau of pain. Too bad for Lisa he wasn't
anywhere near done.
"Now, sugar, you've got a lot more coming, so just settle down
and take it as best you can. The sooner it's over, the better."
Lisa screamed, "A LOT MORE? What are you, some sick sadist?"
Her hand flew to her mouth. Good Lord, she didn't really _mean_
to say that!
"So, Miss Harris, I'm a 'sick sadist,' you say."
"Nooo, no, sir, I didn't mean that, really, I'm sorry."
"But darlin', you're right, only I'm just a sadist, not a sick one."
Lisa was completely quiet during the seventh and eighth blows,
not crying out once. Richard DeWitt's honest response seemed
to have shocked her into silence. "And guess what, honey--
you're a masochist. That's why you needed to goad me into
paddling you. NINE!"
"OWWW, ooooh, I'm no masochist! They like pain and I think this
is dreadful!"
"TEN!" "AHHH, EEEE, stop it please, stop!!"
"Okay."
Lisa stopped crying. "You mean I can leave? You're done?"
"Well, you say you're not enjoying this and that you want me to
stop. You got your wish. Go."
Lisa was confused. It really did hurt very badly, and she knew
she was bruising and swelling. No, she didn't really like pain.
But she had to admit, she didn't want Mr. DeWitt to stop. Not
until HE was ready to stop.
"Uh, Mr. DeWitt, sir?" she choked out.
Richard DeWitt came over and bent down, putting his ear close
to her face. "Yes, honey, what is it?" He knew what was coming
next.
Lisa began crying softly and could hardly speak the words.
"Sir, please finish."
"What, honey? Finish what?"
"Finish p-p-paddling me."
"I thought you weren't a masochist and you hated this."
A whisper. "I was wrong. Please paddle me until you think
I've had enough."
And with those words, Richard DeWitt applied another ten of his
hardest licks to Lisa's bottom, while she screamed and
begged for mercy. Her bottom had taken twenty of his best, he
thought, time for her reward. Lisa's backside looked like a
sunset, all red and purple, and swelling like crazy. Her sore
little butt was a heat wave all by itself. "Sir?" she blubbered.
"Yes, honey?"
"Can I stand up now?"
Richard DeWitt, that stern taskmaster, went to her and helped her
stand, then held her as she sobbed into his shoulder. His hands
began gently stroking her tortured behind. He wasn't sure which
had taken the worst blows--her formerly-virgin backside or her
psyche upon discovering the truth about herself.
Lisa started to notice that the stroking on her backside felt good,
then she noticed that one of his hands had slipped between her
legs. This was even better than when she was alone in bed at night.
She groaned and moved hungrily against his hand.
"Lisa, listen to me."
Lisa groaned in pleasure, oblivious to his words.
"Miss Harris!" SMACK!
"Oww, Mr. DeWitt, I thought we were through!" Lisa rubbed the
smarting area where he had just slapped her with his palm.
"Now listen, my dear, I think you need something special from me."
Lisa thought she knew what was coming. "Special?" She gave him a
coy glance. Males, she thought, they're all alike. They just want
to get into your pants.
Richard DeWitt busied himself between her legs again. Lisa
half-swooned against him. She forgot about what all men want
and thought about what she wanted.
"Lisa, sugar, _listen_ to me. We both know what you want now.
We both know what I want now. First, however, you should know
that I am not going to take your virginity. I need my job.
But there are other ways that we can enjoy our time together."
Lisa was suddenly acutely aware that she was snuggled up in
her history teacher's arms, with nothing on below the waist,
and his fingers buried in her dripping wet snatch. Her face
turned redder than her ass. She was not only embarrassed, she
was the horniest she'd ever been. None of the boys had even
remotely tempted her as Mr. DeWitt did. And her bottom continued
to throb like one big agonizing toothache. Well, as long as
he didn't make her sit on anything, she decided he could have her
any way he wanted.
"Oh, Mr. DeWitt, you can have my ol' virginity. Just don't
stop what you're doing with your hand." Lisa moaned in pure
pleasure.
"No, sugar, I meant it. I'm not going to deflower you."
Lisa was stumped. What could he have in mind? She really
couldn't think of anything, unless it was...oral sex? She'd
heard of such things done by couples when they wanted the woman
to remain virginal.
It was as if he read her mind. "No, honey, not that, either.
Not my style, although a good blow job is nice."
She blushed again upon hearing the words "blow job." But she
really was confused. What was left to do? Suddenly she felt
his finger, slick from her cunt, slide up the back and poke
its way partly up her asshole, and she knew what he had in mind.
"Mr. DeWitt!!!" Lisa was truly shocked and scared.
"Lisa, assume the position again."
She wanted him so badly; what could she do?
Richard DeWitt took out a bottle of lotion that he kept in his
desk. First he spread the cream all over her backside, much to
Lisa's relief; her sore tush felt a little better. Then she felt
the lotion being spread all over her little butthole, and part
of the way in. Then she heard a zipper. Looking around,
she spied the biggest erection she'd ever seen (well, the only
erection she'd ever seen, but objectively speaking, it was big).
Before she could protest, his fingers began doing all those
things again that made her sigh with pleasure. Her hips began
wiggling and she heard him say, "Young lady, another part of
your education has now begun!" and then she felt the pressure
as her asshole began to open and accept his cock.
Oh, this hurt as much as the paddling, but in a much, much
different way. Lisa began to whimper, "Mr. DeWitt, this
really hurts very badly, is it supposed to hurt so much?"
"Yes, honey, but it will feel better soon." Then she forgot
somewhat about the pain as his fingers moved busily across
her clit and in and out of her cunt. She moved her hips slowly
in rhythm with his, and he bent down over her, almost lying on
her back. She looked up over her shoulder and there was
that handsome, stern face, still with his glasses on, staring
into her eyes. That was it for Lisa--she came, bucking hard,
and screaming almost as loudly as she did during her paddling.
She was so absorbed that she didn't notice that Richard DeWitt
followed her by a split second.
They both remained in position for a while, him hugging her
with his arms while remaining inside her.
"Lisa, you know I'm going to have to paddle you on other
occasions. You are going to act up and you will need--NEED--
to feel the paddle on your sorry little behind. And I'm
just the teacher who will know exactly how to give it to you.
After all, history often repeats itself." He couldn't keep
the smile out of his voice, although he was trying his best
to remain the stern history teacher who paddled mercilessly.
"And, Lisa--"
"Yes, Mr. DeWitt?"
"I think it would be okay if you called me Richard, at least
at such a moment as this."
Now it was Lisa's turn to grin. "But, Mr. DeWitt, if I took
such liberties, you would surely paddle me again."
"Quite right you are, young lady."
"Yes, I knew I was...Richard."
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(C) 1995 BY MISS LEE
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