Miss Manson's Memories: That First After-School Punishment - Lucy's Point Of View free porn video

Tuesday, October 20th, 1990. Just over eighteen and a half years after the event.

I stared blankly at the TV. I really wasn’t focusing on the programme. In fact, I only had it on that Tuesday evening for some background noise. My husband was working a night shift and I was just relaxing after putting our three young children to bed, before heading up to bed myself later that evening. I had no idea how long I had been watching the programme for but suddenly found myself being shaken from my dream by what I heard and then saw on the TV.

It had been the sound of the older woman’s leather paddle being brought down forcibly against the younger woman’s knickers that had grabbed my attention. Over the next few minutes, I watched transfixed as I saw the young woman, who was dressed in a black housemaid’s uniform and white apron, who I guessed to be around twenty-five, being scolded and then punished by a much older woman, who I estimated her to be in her late fifties, first over her lap with her hand and then whilst bent over the chair with a small, round-headed leather paddle.

The young woman’s punishment was given first over her maid’s dress, then she had her uniform raised and folded out of the way, revealing her underwear, before the older disciplinarian smacked the young maid over her knickers. I moved around on the sofa, moving closer to the television, but also because I felt myself becoming turned on, the juices beginning to flow between my legs. Within minutes of watching the punishment, my mind flashed back to my own time at school and the frequent punishments I had received whilst in the Sixth Form at Riverside Comp in the early 1970s.

I had been a good girl. Generally. That was until I had started the Sixth Form at school. I had no idea why I had changed. Although I was still a well-behaved and polite girl, Lucy Cardwell as I was then, I found myself, along with quite a few other students in the year group, doing minor acts of defiance or misbehaviour in order to get themselves an after-school detention with their teachers. It was mainly the girls who played this game and I smiled as I remembered my small group of friends who seemed to compete with one another over who could get the most punishments, or the severest punishment.

My best friend, Nicola Thirlwell, had a thing for her Geography Mistress, Mrs. Marshall. In fact, it had been Nicola who had told me about being punished and this had awakened my own curiosity about what happened in after-school detentions at Riverside Comp. Nicola, like myself, was a good girl, from a good family, who never caused any trouble at school, but she had discovered that forgetting to hand in her Geography homework would lead to an after-school detention. She had cried even before Alison Marshall had asked her to come and bend over her knee for that first ever spanking but had also soon discovered that although it was a painful experience, being spanked was quite nice. It left her with a very tingly feeling between her legs and she began to masturbate frequently, thinking about Alison as she did so. Her detentions with the thirty-five-year-old Head of Geography became frequent occurrences, Nicola ensuring that she was getting a spanking at least every three to four weeks.

Then there was Karen Hood. Karen had been brought up with spankings at home, regularly being punished mainly by her mother with a clothes brush and a leather belt and also, in exceptional circumstances, by her father, who would spank her with his belt on her bare bottom. Blonde-haired, well-built Karen had a thing for her mature Maths teacher, Mr. Lunt. The girls estimated him to be in his early sixties and close to retirement. He was an easy target for our jokes – firstly, with his surname, which meant that the girls referred to him as Mr. Cunt, although we were all too nice to even contemplate calling him that to his face. He was also overweight, and we laughed every time we saw him waddling along the corridor, his large belly hanging over his belt.

Karen had ignored her friends’ questions about why she liked her Maths teacher, and after hearing about Nicola’s detention at the hands of Mrs. Marshall, got herself a detention for failing to hand in her maths homework. The blonde-haired seventeen-year-old had happily redone the homework during the detention and had literally jumped onto her teacher’s lap, enjoying the sensation of feeling the man’s shovel-like right hand landing time and again across her skirt, then her knickers and then, finally, over her bare bottom.

I had sat in shock as my friend had explained that Mr. Lunt had smacked Karen’s bare bottom, despite it not being allowed, but the red hand prints that covered Karen Hood’s large, chubby bottom pointed to the fact that she was telling the truth. She had also confessed that he had unintentionally touched her between her legs with his finger as she lay over his lap with her legs opened deliberately as wide as she could. Karen’s detentions had become frequent and both her teacher and herself had dispensed with the spanking over the skirt and then the knickers. She received her hand spanking and a few smacks with the wooden ruler on her bare bottom.

Karen Hood especially enjoyed the feeling of lying over Mr. Lunt’s lap, her grey school skirt folded out of the way, white cotton school knickers pulled down to her ankles and her bare crotch touching her teacher’s trousers. The blonde-haired Sixth Form girl would push herself against his lap, sure she could feel his bulging cock under his trousers. He obviously enjoyed spanking naughty girls as much as she enjoyed having her bottom and backs of her legs slapped by his heavy right hand.

I was shocked back from my dream and smiled as I returned my attention to the TV programme. The older female disciplinarian administered her final few smacks with her paddle across the younger woman’s bottom before pulling the girl’s maid’s uniform dress down so that it covered her bottom once more. The younger woman was then told to stand up, she apologised for what she had done and then the camera cut to another scene where the two women were cuddling – the maid had been forgiven for the mistakes that she had made.

I unintentionally licked my lips.

'Miss Manson,' I thought to myself, instinctively touching myself over my skirt. 'I wonder what she’s up to these days?'

I immediately began dreaming once again. This time, I was back in 1971, at Riverside Comp.

On that first day in Year Thirteen, my final year at school, Lucy Cardwell, as I had been known then, met Miss Manson for the very first time. My entire form class of twenty students had breathed a sigh of relief that Miss Hall, the no-nonsense Home Economics Mistress, had become too busy with other responsibilities around the school to remain as our Form Mistress and so, we would enjoy the relatively easy ride of having a newly-qualified teacher as our Form Mistress for that final year at school.

At first, I, who also had Miss Manson as my History teacher, didn’t think too much about the slim, quiet, plain-looking young woman, but as the weeks went by, I began to become fascinated by my Form Mistress and, after hearing Nicola’s and Karen’s experiences with their favourite teachers, I began to wonder what it would be like to be punished by the twenty-two-year-old woman.

I had tried to devise a plan about how I could end up in detention with Miss Manson, but I did not want to do anything so naughty that it would upset the sweet and innocent-looking young History Mistress. Also, I knew that if I did do something that crossed over the line, then there would be a good chance that it would be Mrs. Lawrence the Deputy Head Mistress, Mrs. Barnes our Head of House, or worse still, Mrs. Handley, the Head Mistress who would deal with me and I wished to avoid that at all costs.

Also, if I had been punished at school by one of the senior teachers and they contacted my parents, then I would be sure to be grounded forever as well as being spanked and belted by my mum and dad at home.

As that first term progressed, I concentrated upon my studies, determined to achieve the high grades that I was capable of, as well as being required for University. I satisfied my spanking needs with a detention with Mrs. Barnes for being late, then another with Mrs. Gourley, my English teacher for messing about in the corridor as my class waited for her to arrive for the lesson, as well as three trips to Miss Benson’s office to have her administer a dozen full-force whacks with her large plimsoll across my bare bottom.

Although against the rules, Miss Helen Benson, the Head of Girls’ PE at Riverside Comp, knew that she was far too established at the school to have any misbehaving girl question her, or dare to go and complain about her punishment methods. In fact, it had got so accepted by the Sixth Form girls that we simply walked into her office, handed over the notes we had been given, lifted our school skirt, pulled down our school knickers and bent over her desk. She hardly ever said a word the whole time as she quickly, painfully and almost effortlessly administered our sentences. We then left her office, closing the door quietly behind us, before rushing to the bathroom to try and soothe our burning bottoms and wiping the tears that would, by this point, be streaming down our cheeks.

As it turned out, it would be Miss Benson that I should have thanked for arranging my detention with Miss Manson. I had deliberately left my PE kit at home that Tuesday morning and so, after being scolded in front of the rest of the class, I, and three other girls, had been made to sit and watch the others playing netball, before being given notes from a clearly fuming Helen Benson at the end of her lesson.

I had expected it to instruct me to report to the PE office the next day to receive the plimsoll across my bottom. It actually was addressed to my Form Mistress, Miss Manson, and requested that she, as my Form Mistress, should deal with this “low level” matter. I smiled and couldn’t contain my excitement, or arousal, as it requested that the young History Mistress should give me an hour’s detention, during which time I was to write two sides of lines as well as having my bottom smacked.

During afternoon registration that day, Miss Manson had kept me behind briefly and had shown me the identical note that Miss Benson had written for her. The young woman was obviously disappointed with my behaviour and asked for my notebook in which she recorded my detention for the following evening. I tried to look apologetic but admit to almost skipping out of my Form class that afternoon, knowing that in little more than twenty-four hours that my wish would be coming true.

The time passed painfully slowly. I had masturbated in bed the previous night four times at the thought of what was coming the next day, but it did not help me get any sleep. The day itself dragged and I struggled to think about anything but lying over Miss Manson’s small lap. I had stared at her all the way through morning registration, dreaming about her in her white blouse and short black skirt and found myself wanting to touch myself under my desk.

At 3.50pm and the end of the school day, Miss Manson had dismissed her year Thirteen class, which included myself, and she was left alone with me, sat near the back of her long classroom. The young teacher had taken a few moments to collect in our work and the textbooks that we had been using, placing them on the desk at the front of the row in her classroom. She had then looked at me as I sat behind my desk in the middle of the row next to the window. I was not worried or concerned that I had been given a detention, or that I would also receive a dose of corporal punishment from my young, inexperienced Form Mistress as a consequence of my poor attitude towards my studies. In fact, I was sitting on my chair, pushing my thighs together to try to take my mind from the dampness in my knickers at the thought of being put over Miss Manson’s knee.

The young History Mistress shook her head at me and tried to look angry. She failed miserably. She had not yet mastered that act like the more experienced teachers at Riverside Comp such as the Deputy Head Mistress, Mrs. Lawrence or the Home Economics teacher, Miss Hall, had done. They could make a student cry by their scolding even before they began administering their punishment. Miss Manson took a sheet of paper from her desk. The dark-haired young teacher picked up her pen and scribbled the statement that Miss Benson the PE Mistress had given to Pauline for me to copy out.

“I will always come equipped for PE lessons or I will be severely punished.”

I watched as Miss Manson smiled as she read the statement to herself, before standing up and walking over to where I was sitting. She placed the sheet of paper down on my desk and stood looking down at me as I sat there with my black school blazer on the back of my chair. I also wore a short-sleeved white cotton school blouse which was extremely tight-fitting around my large, well-formed and prominent breasts. The navy and blue striped school tie ran neatly down the centre of my breasts. As with almost all the girls in my form class, I wore a grey pleated school skirt, which we tried to wear as short as we dared. My school skirt was so short that it may as well have been a belt, and this revealed my long, shapely bare legs under my desk.

As my Form Mistress stood there in her red woollen cardigan, white blouse and knee-length black skirt with her arms folded across her chest, I couldn’t help but wonder to myself whether she was as aroused as I was at the thought of spanking me on my bottom. I was tempted to ask her but resisted, staring at her as she stood looking down at me, obviously thinking about what she was going to say to me. I noticed, like some of the boys in my class had told me, that Miss Manson’s erect nipples could be seen, albeit covered by her bra and blouse.

“I must admit that I am shocked and disappointed that it has come to this, Lucy.” Pauline had tried to sound stern but failed miserably.

I showed absolutely no remorse. No looking down at my desk in shame. No avoiding Pauline’s gaze. In fact, I stared at my young Form Mistress and smiled sweetly at her.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Lucy?” Miss Manson had asked softly.

I had simply shaken my head and continued to stare at my plain-looking but seriously sensual History Mistress.

“No, Miss. I don’t mind the detention,” I had replied politely, but defiantly.

“Hmmm.” Pauline Manson had shaken her head.

“Or the spanking, Miss,” I had added quickly, shuffling around on my chair, and deliberately pushed my breasts out under my tight school blouse.

Miss Manson had taken a step backwards and thought about how to proceed.

“I am so disappointed, Lucy. You’ll be the first member of my form class that I’ve had to punish in this way, and you don’t seem to care,” the young teacher had continued softly.

I had simply shrugged my shoulders at her.

“Very well. I know from your behaviour record that you’re no stranger to what happens in detention – so I will give you the choice, young lady.” My History Mistress had paused and pulled her red cardigan around her tightly and held it closed.

“Miss Benson’s lines or your spanking first?” The twenty-two-year-old teacher asked, almost embarrassingly.

It was obvious that she couldn’t believe that she was going to have to punish any of her students in such a way or that I, who was a quiet and studious girl, would be her very first ever spanking. I sensed like with the other teachers who I had been spanked by in the past, that Miss Manson was aroused at the thought of what was to come, and I smiled at her as she stood there, shuffling around on her feet, trying to ignore the dampness between her legs.

“I don’t mind, Miss. I’ll let you decide.” I had lowered my head and looked down at my desk.

I, like Miss Manson, was so damp between the legs that I just wanted to take my fingers and masturbate right there and then. I would have even masturbated my Form Mistress if she had asked me to.

My young, dark-haired Form Mistress licked her lips and nodded.

“I think we’ll start with two sides of lines for Miss Benson and then we’ll get the unpleasant part of all of this done afterwards. Two sides, young lady, and you will then present them to Miss Benson in her office first thing tomorrow morning. Do you understand, Lucy?” Pauline spoke softly and pointed at the piece of paper that she had placed in front of me on my desk.

I nodded obediently at her and immediately picked up my pen from the groove in the top of the wooden school desk.

“Yes, Miss,” I had replied and pulled the sheet of paper closer before I stopped and paused.

I thought to myself before opening my mouth. I really wanted to just throw my arms around her and cuddle and touch my Form Mistress.

“Miss, can I ask you something?” I had asked softly.

Miss Manson was still standing facing me across the desk, arms folded across her chest. She nodded at me.

“Yes, young lady,” she replied as she stared at me.

“Have you ever punished anyone before, Miss?” I smiled as I sucked on the top of my pen.

Miss Manson tried to maintain her stern expression, but it was no good. The members of her form class knew she was a new teacher, and the likelihood was that she had never had a naughty student across her knee ever before.

That was my hope. I had been spanked and slippered by the powerfully-built PE Mistress, Miss Benson, with her shovel-like hands on several occasions during my time at the school, as well as by my Head of House, Mrs. Barnes, for various infractions of school rules. I had also suffered a full hour’s detention with the Deputy Head Mistress, Mrs. Lawrence, who had hand spanked me across my bare bottom before giving me a dose of the school strap and my only taste of the cane. This had been embarrassing but my punishment had been made worse as it was witnessed by the three other girls in detention before they, too, had their punishment witnessed by the others in detention that evening.

Miss Manson’s stern expression changed to one of shock at the question, but she decided to answer me honestly.

“Well, you are my first, Lucy, and I had hoped to avoid having to do this to anyone, but I have witnessed the Head Mistress as well as Mrs. Lawrence on several occasions punishing naughty boys and girls in their offices.”

The young, dark-haired History Mistress decided to go and sit down behind her desk.

“You had better get on with your lines, young lady. Both sides,” she snapped at me sharply and turned and returned to her desk at the front of the classroom.

My Form Mistress sat on her padded chair and was obviously trying to take her mind off what was to come by tidying the books and papers that were strewn all over her desk. I noticed that she shot me the occasional glance and I smiled as I thought about the young woman in her blouse and skirt and what was coming my way as soon as I had finished the two sides of lines. I worked as quickly as I could, concentrating totally on writing “I will always come equipped for PE lessons or I will be severely punished.”

I wrote as rapidly, not caring how messy my usually neat handwriting was. The way I thought about things was that if I got the lines done as quickly as possible then hopefully the more time I would spend over my plain-looking, young History Mistress’ knees.

'I wonder if she’s a feeler?' I thought as I flipped the page over and began on the final side of lines.

Once Miss Manson had tidied her desk, she opened the bottom left-hand drawer in her desk and took out her small, round-headed, tan-coloured leather spanking paddle and placed it on a space on her desk. She closed the drawer in her desk and sat watching me writing my two sides of lines. The young teacher smiled at me as she watched me place my pen down on the desk as noisily as I could to get my Form Mistress’ full attention.

“Are you finished, Lucy?” Pauline had asked softly.

I nodded at her excitedly.

“Yes, Miss,” I had replied, pushing my chair back as I did so.

“Both sides, young lady?” Miss Manson had added.

Again, I nodded, before picking up the sheet of paper in both hands and holding it up for my teacher to see.

“Yes, Miss,” I had replied sarcastically.

Miss Manson had sighed heavily and reluctantly got up from her chair. I had watched as she had adjusted her black knee-length skirt, then ran her hands down the front of her white blouse before finally adjusting her red cardigan, smiling as she pushed the sleeves up. I had smiled sweetly back at her. My young History Mistress had then pulled her chair into the space between her desk and the front of the classroom and looked at me as I sat with my chin resting on my hands as I sat behind my desk.

“Bring them here, Lucy, and let me have a look at them,” my teacher said as she sat on her padded chair.

I was immediately on my feet and almost skipped to the front of the classroom. Within seconds I was standing at Pauline’s right-hand side holding the sheet of paper out for my teacher.

Miss Manson took it from me in her small right hand and quickly looked at what I had written. It looked correct, so she reached over and placed it on her desk beside her. She placed both hands flat on her lap and looked up at me. I knew that we were both aroused. The young teacher was very attractive in a strange way, and I really wanted her to punish me severely.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself before I smack your bottom, young lady?” She asked softly.

I giggled.

Firstly, because I wanted to say something funny or clever to her so that she would spank me longer and harder and secondly, because I was feeling the nervous excitement of finally getting something that I had wanted for weeks.

Miss Manson stared at me sternly.

“No, Miss. I want my bottom smacked. Why do you think I misbehaved?” I smiled sweetly as I stood facing Pauline with my hands held in front of me. I shuffled around on my feet as I stood there looking at my Form teacher.

My young History teacher had shaken her head and looked up at me.

“You want your bottom smacked?” The twenty-two-year-old teacher had asked me. Surprised.

I reached behind my head with my right hand and made sure that my long dark hair was running down my back.

“Yes please, Miss. I really want you to smack my bottom hard.” I smiled and licked my lips as I emphasized the word “hard.”

Miss Manson shook her head. She obviously was unsure now. The fact that I then started to tease her by playing with my school tie before pretending to unbutton the buttons on my school blouse as she watched me, made up my teacher’s mind.

“Very well, young lady. I assume that you are no stranger to being smacked over your teachers’ knees so put yourself over my lap, Lucy. Hands on the floor in front of you, feet touching the floor and open your legs slightly.” My Form Mistress spoke softly and moved her hands from her lap as she did so.

“Thank you, Miss,” I had replied and stepped closer to the young teacher’s chair.

I carefully reached over the young woman’s knee and soon found myself with my hands flat on the wooden floor in front of me. I made sure that my toes touched the floor behind me, and I deliberately spread my legs. I exhaled deeply as I could smell my teacher’s discreet perfume and scent and I intentionally pushed my crotch into Miss Manson’s lap.

The young teacher with the short dark hair placed her left hand flat on my back. Her right hand immediately rested on my bottom which was still covered by my grey pleated school skirt. She sat with me draped across her lap for a few moments, not saying a word, and was obviously contemplating what she was going to do to me. I felt hot and hoped that my Form Mistress would slip her hands between my legs and touch me with her fingers. I was becoming more and more aroused and continued to push my crotch into my teacher’s knee-length black skirt.

“Now, young lady. I’m going to start over your skirt, then across your underwear and then, to finish off, I’m going to give you a good dose with my paddle.” I smiled to myself as Miss Manson explained quietly what was coming my way.

Out of my view, she smiled as she looked down at the back of my head; my long hair had fallen down as I nodded to signal that I understood.

“I don’t want any fuss, Lucy, otherwise I shall have to tell Mrs. Barnes, Mrs. Lawrence and Miss Benson, won’t I?” Pauline unintentionally gave my small bottom a rub over my skirt.

I exhaled loudly as the feeling of my teacher’s small hand sent my senses into overdrive.

“No, Miss. I’ll be a good girl, I promise,” I purred.

Miss Manson shuffled around on her seat in an attempt to calm herself and also to get comfortable with me lying over her lap.

“I hope so, young lady. I really do not want to have to do this to you.” The twenty-two-year-old teacher sat there for a few moments as she thought about where to land her first smack.

“Just smack my bottom hard, Miss. Please. You can even do it on my bare bottom if you like, Miss,” I gasped.

I hoped she would take my knickers down and, although it was against the rules for classroom teachers to punish students’ across their bare bottoms, most of them did it anyway, knowing that a misbehaving student would be unlikely to report it to the Head Mistress for fear of being given an additional caning for telling tales. Although I had been unable to sit for four days after the event, and had cried uncontrollably as it had been administered, I must admit that I enjoyed my wallopings from Miss Benson, who would not waste time spanking us across clothing. She simply lifted our skirt, bent us over her desk and then pulled our knickers down to our knees, before administering at least a dozen full-force smacks with her large, canvas, rubber-soled gym shoe.

“Miss Benson always smacks us on our bare bottoms, so I wouldn’t tell,” I added.

Miss Manson was obviously shocked and although she did not intend to start my punishment right then, I felt her right hand being lifted from my skirt and then connecting a moment later across the centre of my small bottom.

“Slap!”

The flat palm of my Form Mistress’ small right hand landed across the centre of my bottom, the sound it made being muffled by my grey skirt.

“Be quiet, young lady!” Miss Manson hissed in annoyance.

I giggled. A little due to nerves, not knowing what was coming my way, but also because I knew that I had finally got my way and was going to be spanked by my plain-looking Form Mistress. I closed my eyes and settled in for my punishment. The detention was for one hour and I thought that I had at least twenty-five minutes of spanking to look forward to. I pushed myself into Pauline’s covered lap, feeling her left hand pushing down solidly on my lower back as she did so.

“I’m disgusted at you, Lucy Cardwell,” Miss Manson scolded.

I laughed.

“If you wish to be spanked then a spanking you most definitely will receive!” She added.

“Ooh, yes please, Miss. Smack me so hard it hurts!” I spat out before laughing.

I would have never dared to say such a thing to teachers like Miss Benson or Mrs. Lawrence but thought that I needed to encourage Miss Manson to put as much effort in as she physically could so that I truly felt her punishment.

My young History Mistress sighed loudly and raised her small right hand in the air, pausing for a moment before bringing it down across my skirt once more.

“Slap!”

“You bad, bad, girl.” Pauline tried to sound angry but failed miserably.

I shuffled around on Miss Manson’s lap and the History Mistress found that she had to push down with her left hand on my lower back. This pushed my bottom up, and out of my sight, Pauline smiled as she decided to push on with the punishment.

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

The young teacher smacked me alternately across my right, then my left, bum cheek, the sound Pauline’s hand made as it connected being muffled by my grey school skirt.

I closed my eyes and thought about Pauline, as the young teacher’s small right hand continued to land across my bottom at regular intervals. It was nowhere near as hard as I had experienced before, and I knew that I was aroused. I pushed my crotch deeper into Miss Manson’s lap, the teacher’s small hand continuing to connect with my covered bottom.

After about five or so minutes, the young History Mistress paused and placed her right hand flat on my skirt. Her hand was warm, and I’m sure that my Form Mistress could feel that my small bottom was also warm, as she felt the heat through my grey skirt.

“Now, young lady. As I promised you earlier, the spanking will continue on your knickers. Lift your hips for me,” Miss Manson spoke softly as she moved her hands out of the way.

I obeyed almost immediately and held myself up as the young teacher carefully lifted my skirt and folded it out of the way, revealing my tight-fitting white cotton school knickers. Once my skirt was out of the way, I lowered myself back into Pauline’s lap, deliberately pushing myself against the woman’s short black skirt.

“I’m going to smack you over your knickers, Lucy, and then we’ll give you a paddling for your bad behaviour. Do you understand, young lady?” Miss Manson adjusted the sleeves of her cardigan and looked down at my long black hair that had fallen down over my face.

“Yes, Miss. Please, can you smack me harder?” I replied quietly, opening my legs slightly as I did so.

“Do you say those kinds of things to Miss Benson or Mrs. Lawrence, Lucy?” Miss Manson asked as she raised her right hand in the air.

I giggled.

“I do, Miss. I love being spanked, although Mrs. Lawrence tends to go a little too hard at times or just resorts to caning me and Miss Benson just takes my knickers down and takes a run-up before whacking me with her bloody plimsoll!”

Pauline placed her left hand flat on my lower back and resumed her spanking, slowly and deliberately smacking every inch of the lovely little bottom lying over her knees in front of her.

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

After about five minutes or so, Pauline Manson paused to inspect her handiwork. Her own hand was warm, and she could feel through the material of my knickers that my bottom was warm to the touch too. My thighs also showed the signs of having being slapped. My pale skin was a deep pink in places where Miss Manson’s right hand had connected with them. I had shown hardly any reaction to the prolonged and intense spanking, and if I showed any reaction, it was one of thoroughly enjoying the punishment.

Miss Manson decided to continue and over the next five or so minutes continued spanking me with her right hand, slowly and as hard as she physically could, making sure that she landed her smacks equally against my small left and right buttocks.

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

I said almost nothing as my Form Mistress smacked my bottom, instead pushing my crotch against Pauline’s black skirt, which had risen up, revealing her bare thighs. As the young History Mistress brought her right hand down again and again against my increasingly reddening bottom, Miss Manson tried to judge whether her first ever punishment was having any effect on me. Feeling as though her hand spanking had not even registered with me, the young teacher paused and placed both hands flat on my back and looked down at the back of my head.

“Learning your lesson, young lady?” Pauline asked softly.

It took me a few moments to reply. I turned my head to the left and looked up at my teacher and smiled.

“No, Miss. I need to be spanked harder. Please.” I licked my lips and returned my attention to the floor in front of me.

Out of my view, Pauline Manson shook her head and reached across her desk where she picked up her small, round-headed, tan-coloured leather paddle. She contemplated it in her hand for a few moments before gently laying it across my small, covered bottom.

“Very well, young lady. I will paddle you on your bottom and see if that gets my message through to you,” the young History Mistress scolded and sighed heavily.

Obviously using what she had seen the other teachers do, Pauline slipped her left arm under my slim waist and used her strength to pull me tightly into her blouse and skirt. Once she was satisfied that I was secured, Miss Manson laid the small paddle against my white cotton knickers, deliberately aiming for my right bum cheek.

“I’m going to paddle you, Lucy, and see if that teaches you the lesson that you so badly seem to need,” she spoke quietly, lifting the paddle in her right hand as she did so.

“Thank you, Miss. Spank me hard for being such a bad, bad girl!” I said before starting to laugh.

“Smack!”

The small, tan-coloured paddle landed flat across my white cotton knickers, the sound it made muffled by my school underwear.

Again, very little reaction.

“Smack!”

Pauline Manson brought her paddle down against my left buttock.

Again, hardly any reaction, except for me moving around on Pauline’s lap, pushing myself against my teacher’s bare thighs.

“Naughty girl,” Miss Manson whispered before delivering her next swipe with her paddle.

“Smack!”

Pauline Manson spent the next ten minutes slowly and carefully spanking my small bottom with her paddle. I showed very little reaction, but the young teacher knew that my bottom was hot to the touch. She also knew that I was aroused – as was she. Eventually, after about another dozen smacks with the paddle, Pauline stopped and brought her left arm out from under my waist, placing it on my white school blouse. Miss Manson placed her right hand, in which she still held her paddle, on my lower back and waited. She tried to listen for sobs and sniffs but there weren’t any. Disappointed, the twenty-two-year-old teacher sat back in her chair.

“Right, Lucy. That’s enough. Get up. Sort your appearance out and get yourself to the toilet where you can sort your uniform out before I’ll dismiss you.” Miss Manson moved her hands from my back and watched as I slowly and carefully got to my feet.

I could sense that Pauline could feel the dampness in her knickers as I got up from her lap and stood there, looking down at my teacher.

“Thank you, Miss,” I smiled as I pulled my skirt down and tried to straighten my school tie, walking across the classroom to take my school blazer from the back of my chair.

I struggled into my black blazer and walked to the door where I quietly and slowly turned the handle and pulled the door open, pausing as I thought about whether I should say something to Miss Manson, who looked upset.

I decided against this, even if all I wanted to do was give her a cuddle and kiss her on the mouth to see how she would respond. I walked down the corridor, bottom throbbing through my cotton knickers and my pussy throbbing at the thought of my Form Mistress, smiling as I could hear the sounds of punishment coming from behind the closed doors of some of the other classrooms. I knew that Nicola also had another detention with Mrs. Marshall that evening after her teacher had discovered rude drawings in her Geography exercise book.

Once inside the girls’ toilets, I wasted little time in slipping inside a cubicle and locking the door behind me. I lifted my skirt and pulled my by now damp knickers down to my ankles and sat on the toilet, quickly pushing my fingers inside my wet pussy, quickly moving them backwards and forwards until I brought myself to a very satisfying orgasm.

After a quick second orgasm I decided to get dressed and quickly left the cubicle, washing my face and trying to make my long dark hair look neat. Finally, I adjusted my tie, my blouse and my skirt until I was satisfied that my appearance was as good as it could be before returning to my Form class, where Miss Manson was waiting. She had packed her bags, which were on the top of her desk, and was obviously eagerly wanting to go home.

The young teacher scolded me some more in her calm, quiet way – how disappointed she was in me. How she hoped that this would be a one-off. How she had not enjoyed having to smack my bottom. How I should know how to behave and what was expected of me at eighteen years old.

All I did was nod in agreement at her, still aware that my bottom was throbbing and that the more she told me off then the more aroused I became. I desperately wanted to just throw my arms around her and kiss her full on her lovely lips, but just as I was thinking about making that move, she told me to leave the room. I quickly walked across to the desk where I had been sitting, picked up my school bag, then back to the front of the class, picked up my A4 sheet of paper from Miss Manson's desk with Miss Benson's completed lines on it, smiled angelically at my teacher and left the room without saying a word.

The next morning, I told my friends – both those in my Form class as well as others in my year group – about my detention with Miss Manson. I had even taken my knickers down in the girls’ toilets and let Karen and Nicola have a good look and feel at what my Form Mistress had done to my bottom that previous evening.

I continued to be a regular in detention with Miss Manson after that first time, being taken over her comfortable lap at least once every three weeks for various minor breaches of school rules. I had often thought about Miss Manson after I had left Riverside Comp and wanted to go back to school and see her, perhaps even exchanging contact details so that I could re-visit the past. I was so glad that I was the first student who experienced a spanking from the extremely sexual History Mistress and smile often at the impression that she left on me in more ways than one.