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Introduction:

Her flight of fancy goes a little wrong for Suzanne. Her teacher wasn't the push over she thought.
Suzanne’s lesson.


“What is it this time Suzanne?”

“Smoking in the toilets, Sir.” She stood in front of his desk, one hip thrust forward, deliberately provocatively.

Mr. French sighed in resignation of an on-going and unfathomable problem. It seemed that he and this particular young lady were having these chastisement meetings rather more frequently than he would like.

“Adopt the position.”

Suzanne was a problem, a constant problem. At Saint Agnes School for girls, she was the misfit. Her fifteen year old head carried knowledge that was, by far, much too knowing for her years. She had a natural beauty, cherry red lips and blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes that looked as if they were coated with mascara. Her body had already filled out to a womanly form, and, being an asset, was flaunted at every opportunity. It didn’t take a clairvoyant to know that her future would be in an industry that took full advantage of her looks and figure. It wasn’t a huge step to visualise that, with her intelligence and guile, she would be heading the venture.

The uniform at Saint Agnes’s was quite strict, a cotton blouse with a breast pocket on the left, the school logo and motto embroidered on it. A green on green, wrap-over tartan kilt, complete with traditional pin and thin leather belt, threaded through hoops at the waist, knee high white cotton socks and black, flat pumps. The kilt was supposed to finish at the knee, but Suzanne’s never seemed to reach that far. Hers was nothing short of a mini-skirt and her blouse, instead of being the chaste garment that it was supposed to be, always seemed stretched, the buttons barely clinging on to the buttonhole and always threatening to fly apart, exposing her bra clad breasts beneath.

Suzanne carried the brand, “Trouble”, or “Oh god, not her again?” amongst the staff. Whatever disturbances going on, it was a certainty that Suzanne would be somewhere near the bottom of it. She had a natural tendency to leadership, but her gift for mischief more often lead to a fellow student bearing the brunt of the fall out.

Mr. French’s attention returned to the wayward student in front of him.

“I told you to adopt the position.”

He waited, with ruler in hand, for her to offer her palm for the usual three smacks administered as punishment for her transgressions. Instead, Suzanne lent forward, bending at the waist and then, planted her hands on her knees before slowly sliding her hands down her legs until she grasped her ankles. Her kilt rose at the back, it was no accident that her ass cheeks were fully displayed, her white cotton briefs covering her cleft in a tight vee-shape.

He was immediately angry at her deliberate disrespect and lunged forward, swinging the boxwood ruler until it met flesh with a resounding slap. Suzanne squealed, flinched, but maintained her position, hands gripping ankles and her ass in the air, with a vivid red weal rising on her pink skin.

Irrationally, the sight inflamed Mr. French even more; his next strike was very much harder, carrying his weight behind it. This time, Suzanne yelled aloud and uncoiled to stand, gripping her ass as if it were on fire. He was satisfied with the result and the tears in her eyes, his anger passed as suddenly as it had sprung up.

“Sit down.” He growled at her and was pleased at how gingerly she managed to sit on the seat in front of his desk.

“What am I going to do with you eh?” He sat on the opposite side of his desk, exasperated and realising the futility of beating this incorrigible girl.

Suzanne saw he opening.

“I can think of one or two things.” The unsaid was more than obvious, translated in her enigmatic smile, even though tears trickled down her cheeks. “Why is it, do you think, I am so regularly here to be punished?” Her smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “It isn’t that I like being smacked with your… ruler.” She turned in her seat, uncrossing her legs so that he would be able to see her panties in the gap her short kilt would allow. Her smile widened as she watched as his eyes dropped to her snatch. She knew she had him at her mercy.

Mr. French knew he was in trouble. He had struck a pupil in an unseemly place, the welt on her ass would prove testament to his guilt. He had struck in anger rather than chastisement, further guilt and now, his eyes were beholding a possibility that was very much further than he was allowed to go. All through his years of teaching, he had never felt or wanted to touch one of his pupils, he had, until this point, managed to ride out the occasional crush these young girls can foster. Worse though, Suzanne’s father was a benefactor of the school, donating several millions to the building of a sports hall.

Suzanne’s legs opened wider. If her intent wasn’t obvious before, it was now quite blatant. She stared at him, daring him to look at her crotch, daring him to look away. She shifted forward to the edge of the seat, ignoring the sting of her ass cheeks as the friction of the plastic reminded her of the two welts on her skin. The shift forward served to ride her kilt higher up her thighs until it was no hindrance at all.

He could clearly see the crease of the white cotton fabric as it folded into her labia. The stirrings of lust fluttered in his stomach, his cock began to harden at the obvious invitation. It didn’t matter that she was a student, or that she was under aged. It was a cunt, begging to be used and he hadn’t been near a pussy for far too long.

“So, what are you going to do with me Mr French eh? She grinned and parted her knees even further.
“I um… well… er… I guess we could modify your punishment.” His cock was doing the thinking now, wanting desperately to be buried balls deep in her willing snatch. He got up from his leather chair and walked around the desk towards her. Suzanne suddenly felt a nervous excitement, her temperature rose, breath quickened and the tip of her tongue moistened her lips in anticipation.

He brushed past her; his hip nudged her shoulder as he strode on beyond her seated, overheated body. Not knowing quite what to expect, Suzanne sat in nervous excitement, waiting to see what he would do next. She heard the blind on his office door come down over the vision panel and then the unmistakeable click of the lock. To anyone else, he was out of his office and would not be disturbed.

In an effort to gain at least some semblance of control, he returned to his side of the desk, sat in his executive leather chair and pushed it backwards on its castors, giving him a few feet between his knees and the edge of the desk.

“Stand up Suzanne.” He commanded, trying to quell the shakiness in his voice and sound authoritative.
She walked around the corner of his desk, exaggerating the swing of her hips in what she though a provocative manner and stood in front of him, legs slightly parted, her hands hanging at her side. She looked down on him and waited for his next command.

“Bend over my knees.”

Suzanne did as she was told, knowing that her non-regulation kilt would ride up to give him an uninterrupted view of her ass.

He felt the underwire of her bra and swell of her petite breasts through the fabrics of his trousers and her cotton blouse as they rested on the side of his leg. Her kilt rode up and exposed her ass with two red raised welts criss-crossing on either side of her white cotton briefs.

Gingerly, he ran his palm over the smooth skin, feeling the raised welts she had suffered from the ruler. His other hand lightly grasped the back of her neck, keeping her supine over his knees while he continued to caress her smooth bottom.

“Hmm, that’s nice,” she mumbled.

He hooked a finger under the elasticated selvage of her briefs and arranged it so that it fell between her cheeks until it resembled little more than a string. Now he could see almost all of her beautiful ass with a fine down of blonde hair shining in the light. He patted each cheek and stroked lovingly, enjoying the feel of her.

Suddenly, with no warning, he smacked her ass with the flat of his hand, not overly hard, but enough to sting. She yelped in surprise and then again as he spanked her once more. She wanted to jump up, but his grip on her neck was just sufficient to prevent her. Another smack brought tears to her eyes and a squeal of outrage. Mr. French then stroked her again, fondling and soothing her skin.

“You are a bad girl Suzanne,” He told her “And bad girls get punished don’t they?”

“Yes.” She answered in a whisper, fearing another slap to her already sore ass.

He lightly tapped her again, managing to catch exactly the same spot as before, increasing the sensitivity.
“I didn’t hear you.” He teased a little.

“I said, yes.”

“Good. Now stand up.” Suzanne stood, her kilt still hooked up and her briefs wedged in the crack of her ass. “So, let us she what Suzanne has to offer shall we?” He grinned wickedly. “Take off the blouse.”
She undid the six buttons quickly and shucked off the cotton blouse, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“And now the kilt, take it off.” He looked at her covered breasts anticipating what her tits would look like with out the bra while she unbuckled the thin leather belt and popped the button. The kilt fell to the fall leaving her in just her bra and briefs and long white socks. He liked the contrast of sun-tanned skin against the whiteness of her underwear.

“Pick your clothes up and fold them over the chair.” She bent at the waist giving him a view of her ass and cotton covered cunt from between her legs. She knew how good that view would be, having practiced it in the mirror many times. She carried her clothes to the seat she had occupied and returned to stand in front of him. She could feel her panties had slipped between her pussy lips and were quite wet now. Her ass still stung a bit, but she felt suddenly alive and vibrant. She positively quivered in a sexually charged wantonness.

Mr. French’s finger pointed to her gusset, gradually getting closer until it pressed against her quim, pushing the fabric even further between her labia. The pressure had him touching her clit as well as her hole, her wetness donating lubrication to the passage of his finger. Suzanne shivered visibly. His touch was setting fire to her belly and her sex had become a melting pot of electrical charges, each setting off sparks in her head.

And then, he sat back to admire her. Her youthful body was yet to fill out. She was not yet a classic hour-glass figure, the flare of her hips too narrow, but the promise was there that she would fill out in her womanhood. Her breasts were high on her chest, not large by any means, but were in proportion to her slight frame. She was one of those lucky girls whose natural colouring allowed for easy tanning in the sun. Her hair, although held in the regulation bun, had a luxurious burgundy sheen. Suzanne would be a stunning woman in a few years time and, with her natural mischievous nature, was likely to be a real handful.

“Slip the straps off of your shoulders and turn around.”

Suzanne hurriedly did as she was told. Her nerves were now in a complete mess. This wasn’t how she had imagined it would be. In her day dreaming, she had the upper hand throughout the encounter and, although she hadn’t really thought about the mechanics in any great detail, had him at her mercy. This was completely out of her control and Mr. French was very much in charge. She stood with her back to him, trembling, unknowing and, if she was totally honest, scared shitless.

He unclipped her bra which fluttered to the ground and ran a fingertip from the nape of her neck all the way down her back, between her shoulder blades to the top of her ass crack. She shivered violently, as if suddenly touched by an ice cube. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her briefs and tugged them down until gravity took over and they ended up around her ankles. Suzanne stepped out of them on trembling legs that threatened to give way under her.

Shifting closer so that his knees touched the back of hers, he slid his hands around her waist till they met at her stomach. He pulled her backwards, she had to sit on his legs or fall over.

His hands sought her naked breasts, cupping them in his palms and pinching her nipples lightly. Suzanne shivered harder, literally jumping as he tweaked and rubbed alternately. She squirmed in his lap, hardening his cock even further. Mr. French parted her knees passing inverted hands to either knee and hiking her up, her legs dangled either side of his knees, off the floor and completely under his control.
Slowly, but deliberately, he slid his palms up the inside of her thighs, applying pressure and forcing her legs wider, opening her delicate flower to his touch, without defence. The touch of a finger tip to her quim brought an unexpected reaction as if she had been scalded. It was only the lightest of touches, but it had been perfect in its blind aim.

He lent back a little in the chair, pulling her with him so that she lay propped on his chest. It allowed him to fondle her tits, tweaking hardened nipples while his other hand rubbed in small circles over her labia, parting the lips slightly, almost entering her body.

Suzanne was completely out of control now. Her senses were in turmoil, so many sensations all at once overwhelmed her, all heading towards her first adult climax. His fingers at her entrance were sending her into delirium. She wanted him inside her, but desperately didn’t want to stop what he was doing to her. Waves of ecstatic pleasure flowed from toes to nipples, rippling through her, bringing her closer and closer until, her first climax washed over her. Her stomach cramped, legs tried to shut and her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip to stop her screaming. After shocks ripped though her as spasms rocked her body, slowly, Suzanne calmed, Mr. French allowed her to rest. She had soaked his trousers and hand with her cream, she hadn’t noticed being too wrapped up in her orgasm.

“Stand up Suzanne.” She tried, but her knees betrayed her, control had not yet returned. He helped her to a kneeling position now facing him. Unzip me and take my cock out.

With trembling fingers, she fumbled at his zip. Eventually, she managed to pull it down and gently prise his cock out. Her first close up view of the male organ. It was huge, at least in her eyes. Hard and covered with veins, red and angry looking. Suddenly, she worried that her slender body would never be able to accommodate such a large gland. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but was sure she just would not manage him, especially as it was her first time.

“Open your mouth Suzanne.” She knew what was expected, she and her circle of friends had giggled over the thought of sucking a cock in their evening time flights of girlish fancies.

Gripping his shaft in her fingers, she licked the cock head, the tip of her tongue pausing over the slit, tasting him. Suzanne opened her mouth as wide as she could and managed to get almost three inches into her mouth. She sucked hard, not knowing any technique.

“Gently Suzanne, as if it is a delicate morsel to be savoured, slowly.” He held her head and began to fuck her mouth in careful thrusts, not wanting to overwhelm her or spoil the divine sensation of her warm mouth suckling on him. He would cum very shortly, the extended length of time since his last sexual encounter making his need all the greater.

He grasped hold of her hair, pulling her face back and tilting her head so she was looking up at him. Rubbed himself off, aiming at her chin. His cum spurted out of him, hitting her face and splashing over her gorgeous tits. Spurt after spurt erupted from him.

Suzanne stuck her tongue out and caught a little of his spend and took it into her mouth to be tasted. She didn’t like the taste too much, being salty and musty.

He reached over to his desk and pulled some tissues from a box and handed them to her.

“Get dressed Suzanne.”

“But I thought we were going to do it.” She felt a bit disappointed that her ultimate dream had not been fulfilled.

“You have learned a valuable lesson here Suzanne, your sexuality will not always get you what you want and you will not always be able to control events.” He smiled as she pulled on her pants. “You are still intact, as it should be. It isn’t for me to take that particular prize, but you should never forget what happened here, your first orgasm and taste of a man. Be content with that until the right time with the right man.” He paused while she clipped her bra and threaded her arms into the loops. “It isn’t a lesson to be repeated Suzanne and is never to be mentioned... ever.”

She finished getting dressed and thought over what he had said. Already the memory of her climax was indelibly stamped on her mind, but also, gratitude that he hadn’t taken her cherry, even though she had offered it. Somehow, his refusal and respect for her virginity had made her realise that perhaps it was something precious, to be saved until she was ready. Her reactions tonight had shown her she wasn’t yet quite ready for that. But, God, had she enjoyed what they had done.

“Thank you Sir.”

At last he thought, proper deference to his position, perhaps the lesson had turned her from a wild child. Time would tell.
10 comments

anonymous readerReport

2012-11-18 00:36:40
I loved this story, Styxx! Very hot...& BTW...a "real man" WOULD know how to control himself & not necessarily shag her & take her virginity....love, love, LOVED it...

personally, I believe I'd rather enjoy having this teacher "educate" me...hehehe...I'd have to ask for many, MANY "private tutoring sessions"...

Precious1Report

2009-05-14 11:12:39
Supreme!

Anonymous readerReport

2009-05-11 18:31:14
awesome story, jsut like it happened to me when i lost mine at school x

Anonymous readerReport

2009-02-09 01:22:01
Evocative images, very arousing, and the restraint was a welcome twist to the predictable ravishing of a virgin.

Anonymous readerReport

2009-01-23 06:47:04
Well, a REAL MAN should had fucked her and took her cherry away from her! I wold love him to fuck me!

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