What Goes Around, Comes Around! Ms. Musgrave Gets Her Revenge Part One free porn video

Claire Musgrave had never forgotten that Thursday afternoon near to the end of her time in Year Thirteen at school. She thought about it often. How embarrassing it had been. How unfair it had been. How painful it had been. Claire had been Deputy Head Girl to her best friend, Jessica Weaver, and had never expected that she would be punished for bad behaviour. But the then eighteen-year-old had been.

She had been caught in possession of an almost empty bottle of vodka and, despite her protests that it did not belong to her, the Deputy Head Mistress, Mrs. Holligan had marched her to her office and in front of Claire’s young and shocked Form Mistress, Miss Seagrave, Claire Musgrave, the Deputy Head Girl who had the authority to punish her fellow students for any act of misbehaviour, found herself bent over Mrs. Holligan’s knees and had her bottom smacked with the strict female teacher’s hand and collection of implements. The dark-haired eighteen-year-old had never been punished before and cried and struggled for all she was worth whilst the Deputy Head Mistress had slapped the young woman’s bottom, first across her grey school skirt, then her white school knickers and then finally, and most embarrassingly for Claire, on her bare bottom.

Quiet and innocent-looking Claire had sniffed, sobbed and cried for the entire time that a clearly angry Mrs. Holligan punished her, having to be held down over the teacher’s desk by her Form Mistress, Miss Seagrave, who watched her experienced colleague coldly and emotionlessly punishing the Sixth Form girl with her large slipper, thick leather strap and finally, and most painfully with her senior school dragon cane. The eighteen-year-old schoolgirl had received twelve, full-force swipes across her already sore and burning bottom before being scolded and being placed in after-school detention for a week.

Once her bottom had healed from Mrs. Holligan’s punishment, the phone call home, followed by a hand-delivered letter from Mrs. Holligan, detailing what Claire had done at school which had led to her being spanked in the Deputy Head Mistress’ office that day, had meant that the dark-haired Sixth Former had suffered another spanking from Auntie Rachel as her clearly fuming mother watched. Poor Claire had cried and pleaded with her mother and auntie, but it had all been in vain as she was scolded by both women before being held down over the dining room table by her mother while Aunt Rachel had administered a no-nonsense punishment to her freshly recovered bottom.

Later that year, Claire Musgrave, the Deputy Head Girl, had left Hillheads School with exceptional A-Level results, taking up a place on a Languages degree course at one of the country’s top Universities. She had then completed her teaching degree at the same University before managing to secure her first teaching post at Lucy Atherley Girls’ College. Claire had worked hard and thanks to a piece of good fortune had soon been promoted to the Head of Languages at the school. She loved her job and fitted in perfectly, being more than happy to administer doses of corporal punishment to any misbehaving girl, if and when it was required.

The dark-haired woman had married early but it had soon turned sour. Her husband was seven years older than her and had a wandering eye. Claire Musgrave had suspected him of sleeping around but could never prove it. That was until she returned home early from work one day and caught him in bed with his personal assistant. The twenty-nine-year-old teacher had never forgotten the look of shock on his face when he had been caught out, and then, how he had turned back to the blonde-haired woman on their bed and resumed having sex with her! Claire had been divorced for over a year now and was enjoying her new life, although she had not had sex for years and she missed it.

Claire Musgrave knew who had caused her to suffer the embarrassment of a spanking and then detention and tried her best to get her revenge but, for various reasons, she had failed to achieve this by the time we had both left school later that year. She had never seen me since we had left Hillheads School. That was, until she recognised me when I came to re-wire her grandmother’s home. Ms. Musgrave could not believe her luck and drew up her plans. Andrew Halliday was going to suffer an embarrassing punishment, just as Claire had all those years ago. The young teacher began to bring her spanking implements that she rarely used at school, home, hiding them in the spare bedroom. Claire smiled as she thought about the tall, muscular young man. She had to admit that I was very attractive, but she was really going to enjoy springing her surprise on me.

It was midway through the week-long job of re-wiring Claire’s Grandmother’s home, changing sockets and raising them higher from the floor, fitting a new fuse box, installing new lighting in the kitchen and living room and replacing the worn-out old security lights on the front and back of the large house when Ms. Musgrave made her move. I was just taking my morning coffee break when Claire joined me in the back garden. She smiled at me as she sat on the garden seat next to me.

“Having a break, I see.” She spoke softly and smiled.

I nodded.

“It’s going better than I thought it would, to be honest. I usually work with someone else so, trying to do a job this size on your own I thought it may be a push to get it done in just a week, but it’s gone well. No problems. Yet – anyway!” I laughed.

Claire Musgrave laughed too. Loudly. Far too loudly.

“There was going to be one big problem in a moment,” she thought to herself.

“Do you live here too?” I asked just to make polite conversation.

Claire smiled at me.

“Oh no. This is my Grandmother’s house and we wanted it modernised – you know, re-wired, moving the sockets higher up for her so that she doesn’t have to bend, new lights and then decorating the place when you’re done,” she spoke softly.

“My mum has taken my Grandmother on a sort of mini-tour so that she can visit family and then hopefully the work will be finished when they come back at the end of next week,” Claire Musgrave continued.

I nodded and smiled at her.

“I’m nearly done, and I’ve tried to keep the mess to a minimum. I mean, your decorator won’t have much skimming to do as I’ve hopefully done a decent job with the plastering to cover up the holes in the walls from the old sockets and where I’ve had to drill to put the new ones.” I looked across at her.

“I like what you’ve done. It’s a really good job. Glad my sister recommended your company.” She replied.

She sipped at her cup of coffee before turning her attention back to me, looking into my eyes.

“Did you go to Hillheads School, by any chance? It’s just that I think that I recognise you?” Claire Musgrave smiled sweetly.

I took a mouthful of coffee and took a moment before replying to the very attractive, dark-haired woman.

“I did. I left back in 2009,” I answered innocently.

Ms. Musgrave’s smile widened.

“I did too. I was in Miss Seagrave’s Form Class. In fact, I was Deputy Head Girl to Jessica Weaver in my last year. Do you remember Jess?” She asked excitedly.

“We had Mrs. Holden, the Languages teacher. She was bloody strict – I didn’t really like her. Always picking on us, even when we were in Sixth Form.” I spat out honestly.

Claire Musgrave nodded.

“I liked her. She was my French Mistress. In fact, she inspired me so much that I became a language teacher. I’m Head of Modern Foreign Languages at Lucy Atherley. Do you know it?” She licked her lips as she stared at me.

“The posh girls’ school?” I replied.

Claire smiled and nodded, before looking down at her black shoes.

“That’s the one.”

She paused for a few moments before slowly getting up from the seat and looking down on me.

“You’re Andrew Halliday, aren’t you?”

I nodded and smiled, still unaware of what was coming my way.

“That’s me,” I replied and looked up at the dark-haired woman.

“I know you are. I saw your name on your ID badge there, and also, I remember something about you from our time together at school. Do you remember it, Andrew?” Her tone changed suddenly.

Claire had stopped speaking softly and had gone into full teacherly mode, scolding her naughty student.

“And I also remember that it was you and your friends – but mainly you, Andrew, who got me caned by Mrs. Holligan the Deputy Head Mistress when I was in Year Thirteen when she caught me with an almost empty bottle of vodka that I had found in the part of the Common Room where you and your group of fuckwit mates hung out,” she hissed.

I made the mistake of laughing.

“Funny is it?” She snapped.

I tried to hide my smile. It really had been funny that goody-two-shoes, Claire Musgrave, the Deputy Head Girl who had seemed to enjoy spanking and caning her fellow students for the least little thing, had been mistakenly accused of having a bottle of vodka in her possession. Claire. Sweet and innocent Claire, who had never even tried alcohol up until then. I continued to smile as the memory of that day came back to me. How we had laughed when we had found out that the always-angry Deputy Head Mistress, Mrs. Holligan, had dragged the girl to her office and ignored the eighteen-year-old’s repeated and increasingly tearful pleas that the bottle was not hers and that she had simply discovered it in the Common Room.

“Sorry, Claire. But it was years ago,” I offered pathetically.

She exhaled deeply, her breasts pushing out under her expensive, yellow summer dress.

“Sorry? That just won’t cut it with me, Andrew. I mean, I got caned for nothing and it bloody hurt. I then got detention and my reputation was ruined at school because of what you and your mates did,” she spoke calmly.

“I then got another hiding from my Auntie Rachel at home. Do you remember Rachel, Andrew?” she asked sternly.

I certainly remembered Sergeant Rachel Lloyd. She had been the Community Police Officer at Hillheads School and was a nasty piece of work. I did not know that she was Claire’s aunt.

“Sorry. It was just things you do when you’re a kid, I guess,” I tried to reason with her.

“Not nice being pulled over her lap in front of my mum and having her spank my bare bottom with her hand, hairbrush and paddle before being made to bend over and touch my toes for a whacking with her plimsoll, wooden paddle and strap.” The slim young woman unintentionally placed her hands on her bottom and rubbed it.

“But, as they say, 'What goes around, comes around.' Ever heard that saying, Andrew?” She smiled angelically.

I was struggling to understand that she had never forgotten her punishment, or that she had spent nearly eleven years thinking of her revenge.

“Sorry, Claire. We were just kids messing around.” I took a mouthful of coffee and avoided looking at her.

“Well, I’m not a kid anymore and I’m not going to mess around with you anymore. I’m going to tell you how I’m going to get my revenge on you, you nasty little man.” She whispered.

I continued to look down at the ground.

“I’m going to tell your boss that whilst you were working here that some of my Grandmother’s jewellery went missing and that it must’ve been you. Or maybe I could say you were making dirty, sexual, suggestive remarks to me and tried to feel me up.” She laughed wickedly.

“Either way. You’re sure to get the sack,” she added, matter-of-factly.

I couldn’t believe that she would do that, but my head shot up in shock and I stared at her.

“Oh come on, Claire. That’s just downright nasty. You wouldn’t do that. I mean – it was just a joke. It was years ago!” I spat out in a panic.

Claire Musgrave laughed.

“I will do it and take pleasure in doing it. I mean, you didn’t have the balls to go to Mrs. Holligan and own up that it belonged to you, or your pathetic little mates and took pleasure in hearing about me getting punished. So, it seems fair enough to me.” She began to walk away, back towards the house.

I sat there in absolute shock and watched her almost skipping away towards the house. Ms. Musgrave suddenly stopped and paused, turning back to face me a moment later.

“However. I think I could come up with an alternative to that. I just want justice, you see. I mean one spanked bottom for another,” she spoke softly before licking her lips.

I continued sitting on the seat in silence, taking in Claire’s threats.

“What do you mean – one spanked bottom for another?” I asked. Confused.

Claire Musgrave walked back over to the seat where I was sitting and stood in front of me, her bright yellow dress touching my trousers.

“Well, let’s just say that I won’t tell your employers about those things but instead, you take the spanking that you should have got from Mrs. Holligan for the vodka bottle that was yours.” She slowly pushed herself against me.

“I’ll put you over my lap, just like she did to me, and give you the same punishment as she gave me all those years ago.” She inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“And, once I’m satisfied that you have been punished sufficiently, then we won’t say any more about it. How about that, naughty boy?” She purred.

The dark-haired lady continued pushing herself against my legs and I knew that the young woman was aroused. I thought to myself for a moment. It was no real choice. I did not want to lose my job and I knew that Ms. Musgrave was the kind of woman who would carry out her threats. A spanking from her was something that I did not want to experience, not having ever been punished before, but it would be over and done with quickly and that would be it. Plus, as I looked at the diminutive young woman standing there, I thought to myself, “How bad could it be?”

I mean, in all honesty, “How hard could she spank with her tiny little hand?”

I eventually focused upon her and took a deep breath before replying.

“Okay. I’ll let you spank me as long as you don’t tell my bosses about what you were going to tell them. I don’t agree with it, but I don’t want to lose my job for things I have never done.” I said, immediately lowering my head to the ground.

Claire Musgrave moved back and laughed.

“Life’s unfair, isn’t it, Andrew?” She asked sternly.

“And don’t think that you’ll be getting off lightly, because I plan to spank your arse red raw – just like Mrs. Holligan and my Auntie Rachel did to me,” she spoke quietly.

I remained silent.

“So, after your last day doing the work here, I’m going to punish you and you’re going to take what I give you with little fuss. Otherwise, I’ll still tell your bosses about what you’ve done. I warn you now, I’m going to spank you long and hard and you better do exactly what I tell you – at the first time of asking, or woe betide you!” She raised her voice.

“I may even wear my old school uniform for you, to make it even more embarrassing for you. I mean, a grown man like you, being put over the Deputy Head girl’s knees for a spanking!” She laughed.

Claire Musgrave left me sitting on the seat in the garden and walked into the house.

Two days later, I was in the living room, sweeping up the tiny bits of rubbish and dust as I always did at the end of a job when Claire walked in. She was wearing a tight, short-sleeved blouse which showed off her small breasts, an extremely short and tight black pleated skirt, dark stockings and flat black shoes. She looked around the room for a few minutes before turning her attention to me.

“There’s no need to do that, Andrew. I can run the vacuum cleaner over it once you’ve gone,” she said cheerfully.

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her, the impending spanking at the front of my mind.

“It’s okay, Claire. I always do it and like to make sure that I don’t leave a place in a mess after I’m finished.” I smiled.

Ms. Musgrave licked her lips.

“So, then. You’re finished so you know what that means, don’t you?” she whispered.

I nodded.

“Are you still happy to be put over my knee and spanked rather than me calling your company and telling them that you have been up to no good this week?” she asked.

I nodded again.

“Good. I’m glad, Andrew. I’d much prefer to take you in hand myself and deal with this long-standing issue between us rather than have to make you really suffer.” She smiled as she bent down to inspect the new power sockets that I had moved higher up the wall.

“Do you want me to dress as a schoolgirl while I smack your bottom?” She laughed quietly.

“No. Claire. Can we just get this over and done with, please?” I asked. Embarrassed.

Ms. Musgrave stood up and smiled, scratching her head with her right hand as she looked at me standing there.

“Shame. I thought you’d really enjoy me dressed in my short grey school skirt, grey blazer and tight, light blue blouse. I always thought you used to perv over us girls at school.” Claire Musgrave smiled sweetly.

I shook my head vigorously.

“No Claire. I never noticed,” I lied unconvincingly.

“Really?” She asked, looking at the impressive new light in the living room, turning the dimmer switches on and off, before returning her attention to me.

“I don’t believe you, Andrew. I always thought you kept looking at Jessica and her perfect team, especially Olivia with her very large breasts and extremely tight blouse which left very little to the boys’ very dirty imaginations, wishing that you could touch and fuck us,” she said, continuing to stare at me.

I said nothing and just stood there, looking at the shorter woman.

“Okay then. I think that you need to stop calling me Claire. I don’t think that you deserve to call me by my name – Miss Deputy Head Girl or Ms. Musgrave, will be acceptable. Do you understand?” she spoke in a strict teacherly tone, looking thoroughly pissed off as she did so.

I nodded again before answering.

“Yes. Ms. Musgrave.”

Claire Musgrave walked across to the doorway in between the living room and the hallway and stood there watching me.

“Right. I’m going to get myself ready and I want you to remove all of your clothing – place them on the dining room table and then wait for me to come and deal with you. I expect you to do exactly what I ask you, first time, and without any protest. Am I making myself clear, you bad, bad, boy?” she instructed.

I nodded and continued to look at the woman in the short-sleeved white blouse and incredibly short black skirt.

“Yes, Ms. Musgrave,” I answered, immediately pulling at my t-shirt to untuck it from my jeans.

Approximately ten minutes later, I was standing absolutely naked in the dining room, my clothes neatly piled on the large table and my socks were stuffed inside my work boots which I had placed out of the way under the table. My cock was hard, and I tried to think of something else to help it to go down, but it was no use. I did find Claire seriously attractive and the chance of getting close to her was a real turn on. I shifted about uneasily as I heard the twenty-nine-year-old teacher moving around in the bedroom upstairs. A few minutes passed and then I heard her walking along the landing, then down the stairs.

Moments later, Claire joined me in the dining room, smiling wickedly as she saw me standing there with absolutely nothing on. I closed my eyes and held my large hands over my cock, and this made her laugh loudly.

“Take your hands away from your cock, Andrew. I want to see it. Place your hands behind your back, you bad, bad boy!” She purred.

I did as instructed and my large, thick cock stood out proudly before me. I remained standing beside the table, hands now behind my back, with my eyes shut.

“My, my. That’s a big cock, isn’t it?” Claire Musgrave spoke in a whisper, walking across the room until she was standing so close to me that her white blouse and short black skirt were brushing against my skin.

She continued laughing as she leaned past me and placed her implements carefully on the table. She then walked away and stood behind me, running her small, cool hands down my back, continuing until she reached my bottom where they remained as she spoke.

“So, you dirty, dirty boy. I’m going to put you over my lap and spank your bare bottom until I am satisfied that you are truly sorry for what you did back in school, but be assured, that it is going to be a very long and a very painful punishment coming your way, this afternoon. Do you still agree to be punished and do exactly as I tell you, you bad, bad, boy?” she scolded.

I nodded and remained silent, gasping as the sensation of the young woman’s hands rubbing my bottom and thighs, as well as the cool sensation of her short-sleeved blouse and short skirt brushing against my skin, sent my senses into overdrive.

“Yes, Ms. Musgrave. I will do what you tell me to do,” I said heavily, aware that I was close to shooting my spunk on the floor if she kept touching and teasing me with her fingers.

“Mmm!” she moaned as she slipped her right hand between my legs and touched the tip of my cock that glistened with my pre-cum.

My breathing became deeper and deeper as the young woman’s fingers touched me and I shuffled around, trying desperately not to go off all over the floor.

After a few minutes of standing there in silence as Claire Musgrave teased me with her hands, the dark-haired woman stopped abruptly and walked away, picking up one of the dining room chairs from under the table and carrying it past me, placing it in a space between the dining and living rooms. The young teacher stood there looking at me and smiled as she ironed the creases from her tight-fitting blouse before she took a seat on the padded leather chair. She then hitched her short, pleated skirt up and folded it out of the way, exposing her bare thighs. She took a deep breath and adjusted her small, round glasses which were balanced on the top of her small nose.

It was time for some long-overdue revenge and Ms. Claire Musgrave was determined that she was going to enjoy herself.

“Right, you naughty boy. Come over here and stand at my right-hand side. Then carefully lower yourself over my lap and make yourself comfortable because you’re going to be there for quite some time. Remember – no fuss, Andrew, or I’ll be calling your employer's first thing on Monday morning and telling them that you’ve been a very, bad, bad, boy – making sexual comments, groping my breasts and bottom.” She laughed wickedly.

“Sure to get you the sack, you dirty little pervert!” she added quickly.

Slowly, and nervously, I took the eight or so steps over to where Ms. Musgrave was sitting, pointing to the spot on the carpet where she wanted me to stand. I tried to ignore the fact that she was looking at my cock swinging between my legs as I moved over to her. I stood next to her for a few moments, looking directly over her head and trying to ignore the fear of exploding all over her skirt as soon as my cock touched her and also, wondering exactly how much the small woman’s punishment was going to hurt. Judging by the sight of the large black slipper, ebony-backed clothes brush, tan-coloured strap and crook-handled cane lying on the dining table, it was going to be severe and painful.

Claire sat on the seat looking up at me for a moment before she sat back in the high-backed chair and moved her arms to her sides.

“Over you go, Andrew. I do hope for your sake that “that” does not go off while you are over my knee!” She giggled as she saw my embarrassment as she pointed to my throbbing cock with her right index finger, my cock sticking out within inches of her face.

I carefully lowered myself down, unsure whether Claire would be able to position my large six-foot-four-inch frame over her tiny knees, but the lady was an experienced disciplinarian and within moments had me in the perfect position over her lap, my feet flat on the floor behind me, hands flat on the floor in front of me, and my legs slightly apart allowing Miss to see everything. As she shuffled around on her padded chair she pushed down on my lower back and this meant that my bottom lifted slightly.

The young language Mistress smiled as she placed her small left hand on my lower back and began rubbing my large, muscular bottom with her right hand.

“Now, time for your long overdue spanking, young man. I am going to spank you until I think that you have learned your lesson and I want no fuss from you – no shouting, no pleading for mercy because you won’t get any!” she hissed and paused to touch the tip of my wet cock with her right hand.

“And no accidents on my stockings. Otherwise, I really will thrash you senseless. Am I making myself clear, pervert?” She squeezed my cock playfully and laughed as I moaned in discomfort.

“Yes. Ms. Musgrave. I’m sorry,” I replied, trying to ignore the pain of having my throbbing cock squeezed hard by Claire and also the worry that I was going to squirt my hot, sticky load all over the young lady’s legs.

Claire Musgrave let my cock go and it rested against her bare right thigh. She resumed rubbing my bottom with her small right hand before pulling me closer into her white blouse with its cool buttons with her left arm. The young, dark-haired woman took a deep breath, looked down at the back of my shaven head and raised her small right hand in the air.

“No fuss, young man, or the Deputy Head Girl will make you very, very sorry indeed,” she spoke sternly and licked her lips.

A few moments later, her revenge began, her small right hand connecting with a thunderous “Slap!” across the centre of my fleshy right bum cheek.

That first slap was relatively light, and I hardly showed any reaction, despite never having been spanked before in my life. I began to think that it wouldn’t be too bad being disciplined in such a way by the ex-Deputy Head Girl. I exhaled loudly and settled down for my punishment. Out of my sight, Ms. Musgrave had seen my reaction and smiled to herself. She was just warming up and getting back into the swing of spanking someone. Within the next two minutes, Claire had found her range and the punishment intensified as her small right hand slapped my bum cheeks slowly and solidly, the young teacher deliberately landing the hard palm of her right hand alternately against my right, then my left, buttock, at regular intervals.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

The twenty-nine-year-old woman said nothing. Instead, she was concentrating upon visiting absolutely every inch of my muscular bottom with her small and extremely hard hand. She adjusted the hold that she had on my lower back with her left hand as I began to move around more on her lap as the heat and the pain began to build across my bottom.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

The dark-haired lady continued to spank my bottom with her hand for a good five minutes, hardly giving me any time between slaps with her heavy and hard hand, using her surprising strength to pull me tighter into her lap as I moved around. Claire was enjoying herself and her small hand kissed my rapidly reddening backside at regular intervals. I said nothing. Instead, I was concentrating on the carpet in front of me and trying to show as little reaction as possible, even if the spanking really was beginning to hurt.

“Crying yet, naughty?” Ms. Musgrave asked during one of the rare breaks she took during my hand spanking.

It took me a few moments to regather my composure enough to look over my left shoulder to look up at her and to reply.

“No, Miss,” before dropping my head back down.

Claire Musgrave simply nodded and tightened the grip she had on my waist with her left arm.

“Well, that just won’t do then, Andrew. I shall have to smack you a lot harder then,” she replied, her small right hand already poised in the air once more.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Those next half a dozen slaps, landing lower down across the creases in between my lower buttocks and tops of my thighs, had the desired effect and I began to squirm and wriggle for all I was worth, even if it was a very futile gesture. Claire Musgrave laughed wickedly and grabbed my waist with her left arm and pinned me tightly against her white blouse and bare thighs.

“No, no. Naughty boy! You’re not going anywhere. Miss is only getting started with you,” she spoke sternly and gave me a few moments to calm myself.

“Remember. No fuss, young man, or I’ll have to make a phone call on Monday morning,” she continued before laughing wickedly.

I sniffed and wiped my nose on the back of my right hand before resuming my position. A moment later, Ms. Musgrave’s small right hand connected loudly with the back of my right leg, the sound it made echoed around the large room.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

Over the next ten or so minutes, the ex-Deputy Head Girl turned my bottom, thighs and backs of my legs a deep shade of pink with darker shades of red in places. I was wriggling, squirming and sobbing uncontrollably, my tears beginning to fall onto the carpet below. Ms. Musgrave had ignored me, concentrating instead upon delivering a no-nonsense and unfeeling hand spanking that would begin to drive home her displeasure. She usually spanked any misbehaving girls at school hard to teach them a lesson, but this was so much more. It was a long-overdue revenge for her own sore bottom all those years before, but also, she was going to enjoy punishing someone who she could spank, strap, slipper and cane as much as she wanted, without any limits.

“Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!” “Slap!”

The slim, dark-haired woman administered a final, half a dozen painful slaps across the delicate creases in between my buttocks and thighs before she stopped and placed both hands flat on my back. She allowed me to compose myself and recover from this unexpectedly hard beginning to my punishment and sat with me lying draped over her small, but surprisingly sturdy knees.

Once I had recovered, Claire moved her hands to my burning bottom and she began to stroke and massage my backside, which was hot, red and sore. I was sniffing and sobbing, and Ms. Musgrave smiled as she listened to me, not saying a word as she concentrated upon gently squeezing and touching my bum cheeks with her small hands. The twenty-nine-year-old was hot from her exertions but could also feel how damp she had become from having my weight over her lap. She could also feel how damp she was between her legs and the young teacher shuffled around on the padded chair to try and take her mind off how wet her knickers were.

This always happened to Claire whilst administering a punishment. It had been this way when Jessica, the other female Prefects and herself had punished their fellow students at school. It happened on the occasions that she had punished the students at her school. Claire Musgrave just found administering spankings so arousing and this was proving to be no different. The young woman stopped touching my bottom and placed her right hand between my legs and felt for my cock, smiling when she realised that it was semi-hard.

“Naughty. I do hope that you’re not enjoying being spanked?” She laughed as she allowed her hands to wander from my cock to my balls, stroking them softly with her long fingernails.

“Up you get, Pervert and go and fetch my clothes brush from the table. Do not touch your bottom or I will cane you instead.” She instructed sternly and sat back in the chair to allow me to get to my feet.

It took me a while to struggle to my feet and I stood there, at Claire’s right-hand side, looking down at her sitting on the seat. She looked up at me and smiled sweetly, adjusting her blouse and her skirt which was heavily creased. The young woman brushed several long, dark hairs that had fallen down behind her ears and continued to stare at me. She sensed that I wanted to rub my sore and burning bottom.

“Go on, Andrew. I dare you. Rub your bottom,” she whispered.

I resisted, knowing what would happen if I did this and slowly walked to the table, picked up her small clothes brush from the table and returned to her side, holding the innocent-looking brush out for her. Ms. Musgrave looked up at me and smiled as she took it from me, using the implement to indicate to me that I needed to get back over her knee.

“Back over, naughty boy. I’m nowhere near finished with you yet,” she spoke quietly and smiled.

I did as I had been told and soon felt Claire’s left arm under my stomach and then being pinned against her white blouse and her bare legs. I began breathing heavily as the young teacher laid the clothes brush against my already sore bottom. She gently tapped it against my right bum cheek and said nothing as she prepared to resume my punishment.

“Right, Andrew. This is where it gets interesting and where it really will start to hurt.” She spoke softly, leaning over and whispering in my right ear.

“I am going to beat your bottom harder than Mrs. Holligan dd to me and, knowing how much it hurt, I would prepare yourself.”

“You can cry, scream, shout, swear and do whatever you like, but I’ll not stop until I’m satisfied. Do you understand? Do you want me to continue?” she whispered.

I did want her to stop but did not want her to phone my boss and lie so that I would get the sack, so I bit my tongue and shook my head. After a few moments where Claire had continued to tap my bottom with the brush, I looked over my left shoulder at her.

“I want you to continue, Claire,” I replied quietly.

Claire Musgrave laughed at being addressed incorrectly and wrapped out half a dozen quick-fire smacks with the brush across the fleshy centre of both buttocks.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

I wriggled and squirmed as the nasty little brush bit deeply into my bottom, but Claire Musgrave used all her strength, and all of her experience, to hold me securely in place whilst she wrapped out this part of my punishment.

“Ms.!” the young teacher hissed, before wrapping out another half a dozen smacks with her fearsome little brush.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

“Ms. Musgrave!” She spanked again.

“Or Miss!” Claire walloped my right bum cheek with the brush.

“Not Mrs!” Again, she brought down a full-force swipe across my left buttock.

“Ms. Musgrave!” Another painful smack kissed my red and increasingly swollen bottom.

“Not Claire!” The young dark-haired teacher brought the clothes brush down hard across my right bum cheek.

She laughed as she watched me squirming and sobbing across her lap. The dark-haired teacher paused and allowed me a few moments to calm down before laying her small brush against my bottom.

“Now, we’ll continue with your punishment. Remember, this is just what Mrs. Holligan did to me and I was completely innocent, as you well know!” she hissed.

The clothes brush landed another six times, at full force, across my lower bum cheeks.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

“Whereas you... You, Andrew, are completely guilty and deserve every smack I’m going to give you. Don’t you?” she spoke soothingly, raising the brush in her right hand again.

I did not reply and continued sobbing and sniffing.

Claire smiled and decided to push on with the punishment, spanking slowly and as hard as she physically could with her little brush, the sound it made as it connected with my bottom and thighs echoing around the living room. The young woman held me securely as, over about ten minutes, she landed over one hundred smacks with the solid, ebony-backed brush. Again, she used all her experience to ensure that I couldn’t move around as her brush did its work. Once she was satisfied or fed up with me struggling, she threw the brush onto the floor in front of her and replaced both hands flat on my back. She sat there listening to me sobbing and gasping and tried to calm herself. She was so hot and aroused that it was becoming uncomfortable.

“Right, I think that I have warmed you up sufficiently, Andrew,” she spoke quietly, placing her right hand on my red hot and burning bottom.

“Get yourself up off my knees and go and bend over the end of the dining table. Reach over as far as you can and spread your legs for me. Do you understand?” she continued, gently rubbing her hand in circles across my bum cheeks.

It took several minutes before I was lying face down over the dining table, head buried in my clothes and my legs spread, meaning that everything was on show. I closed my eyes as I sensed that Ms. Musgrave had got up from the chair and was standing beside me. The young lady kicked off her shiny black shoes with their low heels, bending down, picking them up and placing them out of the way. The dark-haired woman leaned across the table and picked up the large, size eleven slipper in her left hand and began tapping it against the palm of her right hand.

As I lay face down on the table, Claire Musgrave adjusted her short black skirt before taking up a position to my left-hand side. She bent her left knee and placed her left hand on her hip before measuring the slipper across my muscular bottom. Without warning, the young Languages Mistress sent her first swipe with the not-so-innocent looking slipper hurtling towards my bottom. It’s journey ended when it connected with the fleshy part of my right bum cheek a second later with a loud “Whack!”

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

Ms. Musgrave slowly, and carefully, laid out half a dozen more painful smacks with the surprisingly hard slipper, across the centre of my bottom. She paused between each swipe, allowing me time to recover and to re-take my position over the table. Claire said nothing as she walloped my bottom at regular intervals with the black, rubber-soled slipper, the noise it made echoing around the large house. The twenty-nine-year-old woman tried her best to hit me as hard as she physically could, and she smiled as she watched my reaction to each painful smack. I wriggled, squirmed, shouted into my clothes on the table in front of me, as the pain registered in my brain and burned into my already red, sore and swollen bottom.

Claire Musgrave smiled to herself as she noticed how red and bruised my bottom was, remembering some of the memorable punishments that she had administered as the Deputy Head Girl and, more recently, as Head of Languages at Lucy Atherley Girls’ College, as she continued spanking me. She was determined to punish me much more severely than she had punished anyone before, and certainly more severely than either Mrs. Holligan or her Auntie Rachel had punished her all those years ago.

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

The slipper continued to add to my discomfort and, head down on the dining table, I considered standing up and asking the dark-haired woman to stop, even if I knew what that would mean for me. I gritted my teeth and tried to take my mind off the pain being inflicted on my bottom by Claire’s slipper, but I failed miserably. Behind me, the strict young teacher laid out a final two dozen smacks with her rubber-soled shoe, deliberately targeting the already sore creases in between my bottom and thighs. She expertly landed the nasty slipper in this area each and every time, delighting in my reaction as the pain and discomfort grew.

“Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!” “Whack!”

Once she was satisfied, she stood and watched me crying into my clothes on the table in front of me. Claire bent down and leaned in close to inspect my bottom. It looked exactly as hers had all those years ago after her punishment, first from the Head Mistress, and then, at home from her Aunt Rachel. My bottom was a mixture of shades of pinks and reds, the deepest reds being located across the fleshy centre of my bum cheeks which had received the majority of Claire Musgrave’s attention. The young teacher could see that my bottom was swollen in places, as were my thighs, and she didn’t have to touch me with her fingers to realise that my bottom was extremely hot from the punishment so far.

The dark-haired disciplinarian stood up and adjusted her skirt and blouse before reaching over to the table and placing the slipper down next to me. Claire took a deep breath before picking up her thick, tan-coloured leather strap in her right hand. Ms. Musgrave loved this implement. It had been a gift from her Form Mistress, Miss Seagrave, when Claire had been announced as the new Deputy Head Girl. Over the years, it had seen much use, but the young woman had taken good care of it, oiling it regularly, so that it retained its condition and was still supple. She smiled as she contemplated it in her hands. It certainly was the best implement to drive her message home with and always led to the poor unfortunate on the receiving end of it doing a funny little dance when it kissed their backsides.

As I continued crying and sobbing into my arms, Claire Musgrave pushed her small, round glasses up to the top of her small nose, brushed those few dark hairs that had fallen down the side of her face back behind her ears and adjusted her blouse, before re-taking her spanking position at my left-hand side. Next, she placed her strap over her right shoulder and thought about where she would land her first stroke.

“Right. Just like Mrs. Holligan gave me – twenty-four strokes with my school strap for you.” She placed her left foot in front of her right and paused.

“They hurt and then Auntie Rachel give me another belting once I had healed, only she didn’t give me a number – she just strapped me until my mother and herself were happy,” she spoke quietly as she remembered, and her bottom tingled at the memory.

“And that was all your fault, Andrew. That is why you are being punished today,” she continued.

Ms. Musgrave laid the piece of leather across my sore bottom and tapped it gently against my backside.

“No fuss from you, or I’ll be making a phone call first thing on Monday morning,” she added.

I buried my face in my arms and clothes as deep as it would go and tried to prepare myself. The dark-haired teacher returned her strap to her right shoulder and took a few deep breaths. She stood there in silence for several moments before I heard the strap leaving the woman’s shoulder, whistling through the air before it landed painfully across the lower part of my right buttock. Within a second of the nasty piece of leather landing with a loud “Whap!” The pain registered in my brain and I screamed, the heat spreading across my already sore bottom.

Claire Musgrave said nothing as she watched me swaying over the table in front of her and simply returned her strap to her right shoulder. Once I had stopped moving about in front of her, the experienced disciplinarian continued my strapping, taking her time to allow me to recover after each stroke before unleashing her next one. After about ten minutes, she had concluded this part of my punishment and stood there at my left-hand side listening to me crying, sniffing and sobbing into my arms.

“Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!”

“Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!” “Whap!”

As I cried into my clothes on the table, Claire bent down and looked at my bottom and thighs. She laughed unintentionally, knowing how much pain and discomfort I would be feeling at that moment. She stood up and looked closely at her school strap. It had tiny blood spots in parts where it had connected with my backside and she nodded.

“What goes around, certainly does come around, doesn’t it, you bad, bad boy?” She giggled as she stood up and reached across the table where she placed her strap down.

To be continued...