She Always Had Her Cats
- 1 year ago
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Another Year At St Cat’s Ch. 05 free porn video
Reality Stings
——————
Wednesday, 9 April
——————
It was the kind of bright, airy spring day that felt warm when you were in the sunshine, but made you shiver if you were caught in the shadows, the cold, northerly breeze nipping at your ears and nose. Along the path that led down to the river the cherry trees were in full blossom looking like giant sticks of pink candy-floss.
Vicky walked up the path back towards her maths class and contemplated exactly how much she hated Wednesdays. The day always started with double mathematics. Two and a half hours of maths with a short fifteen minute break in between. When she returned to her desk, she caught Macy, Fay and her other cronies glancing over at her and sniggering.
Macy was the captain of the school netball team and a bit of a bully, a tall girl with long, dark chestnut hair who used her height and natural air of authority to intimidate the other girls. Her small, raison-like eyes glittered darkly as she stared at Vicky over her shoulder, her thin lips stretched into a mirthless grin. Fay, her room-mate and best friend sat next to her. She was smaller and chubbier, her tan skin, glittering black eyes and short, jet-black hair betraying her Asian heritage.
When Lucy opened the top of her old-fashioned wooden desk to retrieve her books, she found the source of their amusement. Someone had scribbled a crude drawing of two naked girls kissing over the green cover of her workbook. Underneath, they’d scrawled some graffiti: ‘I’m a big, fat lezzer!’, ‘Vicky (heart) Faith’, ‘Vicky is a dirty dyke’. The bitches! How had they found out? She was just about to get up and confront them when Mr Lean re-entered.
‘Right everyone, break over. Get your books out please.’
As Mr Lean resumed the lesson on partial differentiation, she started to tear off small scraps of paper from her pad. Scrunching them into tight, little balls felt good, it seemed to help relieve some of her stress. She waited patiently for Mr Lean to turn back towards the blackboard then launched one of the scrunched-up balls towards Macy’s head. Missed! Annoyingly, it fell short but at least the teacher hadn’t noticed.
She tried again. This time her aim was better, the paper ball hitting the back of Macy’s neck then bouncing off onto the floor.
‘Ow!’ Macy cried, turning around. Vicky couldn’t suppress a grin.
‘What’s going on?’ Mr Lean said, turning back towards the girls.
‘Somebody threw something at me Sir! Vicky Sir, she did it!’
‘All right, Vicky. Enough now.’
‘Wasn’t me Sir,’ Vicky said innocently.
‘Let’s get on shall we?’ Mr Lean said, giving her a look that fully conveyed his scepticism.
Vicky tried to concentrate but after a few minutes had passed, she noticed Macy sliding a hand behind her back and, hidden from Mr Lean, making some very un-ladylike gestures with her middle finger. Vicky couldn’t resist. She launched another ball of paper with a deft flick of her wrist, like it was a netball, and smiled as it described a perfect arc this time hitting the back of Macy’s head then bouncing off in a very satisfying manner.
‘Ow! Sir! Tell her Sir!’ Macy whined, as the girls around her giggled.
‘Vicky! That’s enough! Any more of that and it’s a detention, understood?’
‘Yes Sir, sorry Sir,’ Vicky simpered, flashing Macy a wicked grin as the teacher turned away.
—
David stared out of the window as he waited for Wicklow to return from the bar. Now that the clocks had gone forward, it was still just about light when they got to the pub. Outside, he watched as the shadows lengthened and the setting sun painted the clouds marmalade orange. He was still thinking about his confrontation with Vicky earlier. He’d had a word with the headmaster on his way out tonight, told him his concerns about Vicky’s behaviour, and the head had promised he’d call the girl’s mother. Still, running to the headmaster every time he had a problem didn’t seem like a proper solution. He was aware he still had a lot to learn. He was still honing his particular teaching style, still trying to learn from the more experienced teachers like Wicklow.
‘You look thoughtful,’ Wicklow said, setting two pints of bitter on the table.
‘Yes, there’s a girl in my class who’s being a bit disruptive. I’ve just been pondering the best course of action.’
‘Well you know what I always say.’
‘Yes, yes, I know, spare the rod, spoil the child. But I can’t help wondering if there isn’t a better way. I was talking to Annabel at lunch today…’
‘Ah, the saintly Miss Hunter. Let me guess: she thinks my methods are barbaric and I’m a brute, hmm?’
‘Well, let’s just say that she does have a different point of view. She says that she hardly ever resorts to corporal punishment. She says she’s able to sort out any issues by sitting down with her students and talking through their differences.’
‘Yes, well we can’t all be touchy-feely, and in touch with our emotions like our very own Mother Teresa. I mean, of course, we all try talking sense into the students, but that won’t always work. Not with some of these girls. There has to be a last resort.’
‘Hmm. Well of course there’s always detention or sending the girls to the head.’
‘Yes, that’s all very well, but we can’t all just offload our problems onto the head. He’s a busy man. Do you think he wants an endless queue of girls outside his study?’
‘Well…’
‘Listen, I’m just saying that it’s much better for everyone involved if you deal with these students yourself. In the long run, they’ll respect you for it. I mean, look at me, it’s not like I’m disciplining girls every day of the week, far from it. More often than not, just the threat of a spanking is enough to make them behave.’
‘I suppose so,’ David said, taking a sip of his pint.
‘David, it’s not like I’m some sadistic monster looking for excuses to punish these girls but sometimes that’s the best way.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s just that resorting to physical punishment feels like failure.’
‘You know you have to remember that these girls have their problems, they’ve often been expelled from more lenient schools. And our school is known for it’s more strict regime. We’re one of the few remaining schools to practice corporal punishment. The girls, their parents, the headmaster: they all expect us to enforce discipline this way. Oh yes, have no doubt, the girls know what to expect if they step out of line.’
David nodded but still looked unconvinced.
‘Listen, by all means try Miss Hunter’s methods,’ Wicklow said, ‘but I think that you’ll find a little spanking goes a long way.’
—
Lady Vanessa Amery poured a few drops of the expensive oil into the hot water of the bath, watching the lazy iridescent swirls and savouring the heady, floral scent. She turned off the taps and was just about the slip off her silk dressing gown when the ‘phone started to ring.
‘Damn and blast’ she muttered, ‘why does it always ring at the worst possible time?’
She skipped out of the bathroom, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet of the hallway.
‘Hello?’ she said, picking up the receiver.
‘Ah yes, Lady Amery? Is that you?’
‘Ah headmaster, how nice to hear from you,’ she lied.
Vanessa’s heart sank. A call from the headmaster of Vicky’s school could only mean one thing. Her wayward daughter was in trouble again.
‘Is now a good time to talk? I need to have a word about Vicky.’
‘What’s wrong? Has she been misbehaving again?’
‘Well one of her teachers did come to see me regarding her behaviour. Apparently, she’s been quite disruptive in his class again. Not paying attention and distracting the other girls and so on.’
‘Oh dear, I thought she’d improved lately.’
‘Well we’d all hoped she’d turned a corner.’
‘I see, well as you know she does have issues.’
‘Well a lot of our students do, but it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation, Lady Amery. I mean, the school has tried to work with Vicky.’
‘Indeed headmaster, I’m sure you’ve all been very patient. I can only apologise on her behalf.’
‘I was thinking that perhaps it would be an idea for you to come down. I don’t want to have to escalate this. Perhaps if we were to get together with Mr Lean, we could impress on her the gravity of the situation.’
‘Well, I’m actually quite busy at the moment.’
There was a silence on the other end of the line.
‘I really do think it would be a good idea for you to come down. I mean, we don’t want this to get to the stage where we need to talk about expulsion. Vicky was expelled from her last school wasn’t she?’
That was true, and the school before that. Vanessa couldn’t bear the thought of having to look for yet another school for her tiresome daughter.
‘Well if you think it’s that serious I suppose I could spare a day in the next couple of weeks.’
‘Excellent. Actually, Saturday would be good for me, how about you?’
‘Just give me a second and I’ll check my diary.’
Vanessa held her hand over the mouthpiece whilst she pondered. Actually, Vanessa knew she wasn’t doing anything important. Perhaps it would be best just to get this over with. Perhaps she did need to have a serious word with her daughter and sort this out, once and for all.
‘Okay, Saturday it is,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you’d be good enough to send a car to pick me up from the station.’
—
Vanessa let out a low, contented moan as she slipped beneath the warm, scented water, easing herself back until just her face and tips of her breasts broke the steamy surface. She closed her eyes and let the hot water caress her body, all the little aches and pains fading away. Her mind returned to the headmaster’s call. She was so annoyed with her daughter. It sounded like there was a real chance of her being expelled from the third school in as many years. Her daughter just didn’t seem to understand how much time and money it took to send her to these exclusive schools.
It hadn’t always been like this, when she was younger she’d been a sweet, helpful girl but the sudden death of her father five years ago had seemed to hit her particularly hard. Vicky had never quite seemed to be able to come to terms with it and, yes, maybe she’d been a little at fault. Letting her get away with things because she was so unhappy. Should she have been more strict? Or maybe let her stay at home rather than sending her back to school? Had that made her feel rejected?
Of course, Frank’s death hadn’t been a bed of roses for Vanessa either. At least he’d left her well provided for: the pension, the shares, the house in the country and this flat in Kensington. In fact, she was in a position where she never needed to work again. Although, in reality, she kept her three day a week job in marketing just so she felt she was needed, was making a contribution.
Anyway, she didn’t need to worry about her daughter till Saturday. Perhaps she could give it some serious thought on the train on the way down. Right now, the stress of the ‘phone call had caused a tense tightness in her shoulders and she desperately needed to relax. She closed her eyes and slid beneath the water, blocking out the hum of the traffic and trying to empty her mind just like her meditation teacher had taught her. Just concentrating on her breathing. Slowly inhaling. Hold it. Count to five then slowly exhale. Slowly in again. Hold it. Count to six then slowly out. Repeating the mantra again and again, trying to go slower and slower each time until she felt the worries of the day spiral away into the darkness.
After she’d bathed, she decided to have an early night. The bath had made her feel a lot less stressed but she still needed a little more relief. She switched off her mobile then turned out all of the lights, except the lamp on the bedside table.
Vanessa lay face-down on the bed in her dressing gown with just the light from the laptop’s screen glowing on her face. Propping her head on one hand, she tapped at the keyboard with the other, typing in the address of her favourite spanking website, then logging in with her user name: naughtylady67. She briefly wondered if any of the other ‘naughty ladies’ really were actually titled Ladies like her.
Vanessa had fantasized about discipline for about as long as she could remember. She wasn’t entirely sure why. She’d gone to quite a liberal school, the staff there would have been horrified by the thought of corporal punishment. Perhaps it was just the way she had been brought up. Her parents were very stiff and formal, not ones to share their emotions. They would have died of embarrassment if she’d ever talked about sex or relationships. For them, sex was exclusively for married couples behind closed doors, something to almost be ashamed of. When she was a teenager with raging hormones, they made her feel as if sexual feelings were somehow unnatural, and touching yourself ‘down there’ was the worst kind of sin. That’s when Vanessa had started to fantasize about being punished for her naughtiness. She dreamt of older men, stern, faceless figures of authority discovering her playing with herself and punishing her for her sins.
There was also something distinctly English about her fixation with corporal punishment. Owning up to your misbehaviour then being told to bend over to receive correction. Skirt up, knickers down. Trying to stifle your emotions, keep a stiff upper lip as the headmaster administered a short, sharp shock. Sometimes even the English flag reminded her of spanking, to her it resembled two angry red stripes on milky white flesh.
Her fantasies of punishment and control weren’t something she’d ever felt able to share with her husband, or any of her boyfriends before him. It just seemed too kinky, so it had remained her dirty little secret, tucked away in the dark corners of her mind. After her husband had died she’d discovered the internet. What an eye-opening experience that had been! So many people sharing her fantasies, so many pictures and stories and videos. All available anonymously, even on sites where she had to log in to she could just be ‘naughtylady67’.
Once logged in, she followed her usual routine, warming herself up by browsing through some of the pictures first. Today there was a new photo-set that caught her eye. A young woman in a French maid’s outfit, bent over a desk, her black skirt pulled up over her thighs, her panties a little tangle of black around her ankles. Against a dark background her bare bottom glowed palely above her black stockings as she awaited her fate. In the foreground a shadowy male figure lurked, about to punish her for breaking the house rules.
She ran a finger over her robe, lightly stroking her boobs beneath the thin silk as she perused the pictures, imagining how it would feel to be that girl but also wondering how the man would feel. Caught between administering her punishment and ravishing her helpless, young body.
Her thoughts grew hotter and hotter, and before long she’d navigated to the on-line role-playing forum, by far her favourite part of this site. It didn’t take her long to find one of the regulars willing to engage in a little on-line fun.
naughtylady67: hi, any gentlemen out there up for a little role-playing?
firmhand: ah, naughtylady67, long time, no spank! how are you?
naughtylady67: very well, sorely in need of a little discipline tho’
firmhand: well you’ve come to the right place, what did you have in mind? A little boss/secretary, or headmaster/schoolgirl?
naughtylady67: I fancy a go at master/maid, is that good for you?
firmhand: if it’s good for you it’s good for me! what is my gorgeous young maid wearing this evening?
naughtylady67: ooh i think the classic
outfit…
naughtylady67: …a black dress cut quite a low at the front, trimmed with white lace, knee-length skirt, cinched at the waist with a little white pinny, black hold-up stockings and heels
firmhand: very nice, i’m sitting by the fire in a large leather armchair reading a book…
firmhand: …i’m wearing a burgundy smoking jacket over a white open-necked shirt
naughtylady67: you look so relaxed sitting there! i approach you and ask: ‘is there anything i can get you sir?’
firmhand: a drink please, my usual
naughtylady67: your usual sir? i’m sorry, i’m not sure i remember…
firmhand: (sighs loudly) a gin and tonic, plenty of ice
naughtylady67: (eager to please) yes, of course , right away sir!
naughtylady67: my heels click on the hardwood floor as i walk over to the drinks cabinet
naughtylady67: i fix your drink and put it onto a small silver tray, which i place on the small reading table next to you
firmhand: engrossed in my book, i reach out and lift the drink to my lips
firmhand: damn it girl, this is warm, there’s no ice in here!
naughtylady67: sorry sir! i thought you said ‘no ice’
firmhand: i said ‘plenty of ice’, are you deliberately trying to annoy me?
naughtylady67: no sir! let me try again…
naughtylady67: I take the glass back over to the drinks cabinet and quickly add some ice cubes from a large silver bucket
naughtylady67: here you are sir, gin and tonic, plenty of ice, i say as i rush back
naughtylady67: as i approach you, arm outstretched, i stumble slightly in my high heels and a little of the drink spills over the side of the glass
firmhand: damn it girl! you’re so clumsy!
naughtylady67: i’m so sorry! (i dab at the wet patch on your shirt with a white napkin)
firmhand: alright, enough, enough! (i swat your hand away)
naughtylady67: i’m so sorry sir, i can’t begin to apologise enough
firmhand: come and stand next to me girl
firmhand: perhaps now would be a good time to talk about something else that’s been concerning me
naughtylady67: (i stand next to you, hands clasped behind my back) yes sir?
firmhand: you remember when the vicar came over the other day? and you were on all fours cleaning out the fireplace?
naughtylady67: yes, i remember…
firmhand: well, as you bent over to sweep up the ash your skirt rode up over your stockings
naughtylady67: (my hand flies up to my mouth) oh dear! did he see my stocking tops?
firmhand: he saw more than that, young lady! it was perfectly clear to both of us that you weren’t wearing any underwear!
naughtylady67: (blushing furiously) oh sir, i do apologise! i’m so embarrassed!
firmhand: yes, well, the poor man didn’t know where to look. he damn near choked on his sherry!
naughtylady67: I’m so sorry sir, my previous employer didn’t allow me to wear them
firmhand: i know, and i’ve told you before that here we consider underwear part of your uniform
naughtylady67: yes sir
firmhand: are you wearing knickers now?
naughtylady67: um… yes… of course sir
firmhand: good, well let’s see then
naughtylady67: now sir?
firmhand: yes now. lift your skirt so i can check
naughtylady67: (i reluctantly and slowly ease my skirt over my legs till you can see the dark stocking tops)
naughtylady67: i should really be getting back to the kitchen sir, to help with the…
firmhand: come along, quickly girl!
naughtylady67: (I lift my skirt higher till you can see my pussy, it’s quite naked with a neatly trimmed strip of dark hair)
firmhand: (i reach out and slid my hand up over your long legs) aha! just as i thought, not only disobeying me but also lying about it
naughtylady67: (blushing furiously) please Sir, don’t
firmhand: (I ignore you, sliding my hand over your stocking tops, i run my fingers lightly up and down the inside of your bare thighs)
firmhand: are you incapable of following simple orders?
naughtylady67: sorry sir
firmhand: (still stroking you) whatever am i going to do with you, hmm?
naughtylady67: (moaning a little as you stroke me) i’m sorry sir, i keep forgetting
firmhand: (finally taking my hand away) what a wanton girl you are, walking around without anything on beneath your skirt!
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