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The Potting Shed 5I was very reluctant to even touch the tawse but Mrs Cameron demanded I bring it to her. I lifted it out by the handle end and held it in both hands. It must have weighed at least half a pound and it was made of very stiff black leather, probably half an inch thick at the business end. The tawse was the chosen instrument of punishment in Scottish schools at that time, and I’d experienced it many times before in both the primary and secondary schools I had attended. Mrs Cameron took the tawse from me and held it out in front of her. It was about two feet long, and it was so stiff it hardly drooped at all over it’s length, even though she only held it at one end. Mrs Cameron explained that the tawse had been her Grandfather’s – he was also a teacher, and when she had graduated from Jordanhill College he had gifted her the tawse, and provided some very useful instruction on how and when to use it. This meant that when she took up her first teaching post, she already knew what she was doing. Many young tearaways, who thought they would have some fun at the expense of the new teacher, found themselves out in front of the whole class for six extremely hard strokes, the maximum penalty, across their hands on the very first day of term. Her reputation had spread like wildfire and by the end of the first term, very senior and far more experienced teachers were sending their errant pupils to her for a salutary lesson from Sherriff Cameron as she became known. Her ability to maintain discipline was a huge attribute, and by the time she left the profession to look after her mother she was Deputy Head at a large new school in Glasgow, with over a thousand pupils. She explained that although she had left teaching, she still very much believed in the disciplining of young people, and she found her belt the most effective way of maintaining it. She ended her lengthy statement on the provenance of the tawse by instructing me to place one hand on top of the other and to hold both up level with my shoulders, the palms tilted down towards her. This I did, feeling very vulnerable with my hands raised up, and my cock on display. She raised the tawse up high and over her right shoulder before whipping it down full force across my palms. It stung like hell, but I was quickly instructed to swap hands so the unpunished one was now on top before a second stroke was applied, just as hard as the first. I cupped my hands and blew into them to try and take away the sting. I also tried waving them about and squeezing them under my armpits, but the pain was so intense. I was curtly informed to hold them both up again and this time I involuntarily pulled them away as she applied the stroke, resulting in the leather just catching my fingertips. Mrs Cameron was not impressed and walked over to the bed and returned with a hand towel. This she placed over my head, and told me to get my hands up again. Now that I could no longer see her I could not react to each stroke, and by spacing them out by trabzon escort anything up to a minute apart, Mrs Cameron was able to administer the rest of my punishment with deadly efficiency. The maximum penalty in schools may have been six strokes at the time, but I got f******n in total that day, with Mrs Cameron explaining after eight, that she was no longer bound by any regulation, and behaviour as outrageous as my own deserved a very severe punishment. On completion, my hands felt twice their normal size and my fingers were throbbing with the pain and discomfort. Mrs Cameron rested the tawse on top of the pillows which she’d placed on the back of the chair. She went on to explain that over the course of her career she’d noticed that a very few pupils had appeared to crave the discipline she applied, and seemed to go out of their way to earn a belting from her. She’d also encountered two or three members of staff who seemed overly interested in the discipline she applied, and often stayed to witness the thrashings she gave to pupils they had brought to her. Over the course of her career, a few teachers had even come to her for punishment themselves, at her home in the evening. These encounters had progressed over weeks and months, and invariably ended up with the recipient having their bottom bared, and the tawse firmly applied across it. She suggested that since mine was already on display, coupled with the fact that I had been a very naughty boy, then perhaps a further belting while bent over the back of the chair would be a very suitable way to end my correction? I disagreed, and begged her not to, but she simply smiled and removed her tweed jacket and placed it on the dressing table. She turned away from me and told me to undo the button on her skirt and pull down the zip. My hands and fingers felt swollen like over ripe bananas, but somehow I managed to overcome the trembling and eased the zip down before being told to remover her skirt completely. Her slip too. She then held her arms out and told me to hold her hands. She said that perhaps there was another way I could atone for my bad behaviour. She stepped backwards to the bed and then sat down on the edge, still holding my hands. I assumed I was going back over her knee for a spanking, but instead she had me kneel between her legs. I was told to remove her knickers for her, and she lay back and raised her hips up to assist me. I grasped the waistband and peeled them down over her suspenders and stockings – she raised her legs up in the air together, so I could take her pants off completely, before opening them wide. She was wearing an open bottomed girdle, and in this position I could see everything. Her pussy was completely bald, in fact there was no hair anywhere in sight, and I could see all the way down to her arsehole. She smiled at my surprise, and asked whether I’d never seen a lady who shaved before? I was transfixed by her underwear – I had always had a thing about girdles and corsetry, and had often escort trabzon wanked into girdles owned by my mother or my Dad’s sister. Mrs Cameron once again had her hand hooked around my neck, but this time she was pulling me down to her pussy and instructing me to lick her there. She pulled the lower edge of her girdle up to allow me access, and with two fingers of her other hand she spread the hood of her clit apart to expose it to me. Her clit was larger than Sally’s, almost the size of my fingertip, and was fully engorged. I started to lash it back and forth with my tongue but she immediately clamped her legs together and told me to be gentle, and go around it in circles. I did as she asked, and she soon started to purr her contentment. I was told to insert two fingers between her lips and pump her with them while I licked her. She was quite wet down there, and once I started pumping her she became quite vocal and started to hump her mound against my fingers and tongue. Her orgasm came very quickly, and her whole body trembled as she let out a long groan and pressed my face into her sex. When she’d calmed down a bit I recommenced licking her clit, but she pushed me away saying she couldn’t stand it anymore. She asked me if I my cock was hard yet and would I like to fuck her? I told her I would very much like to, but I didn’t have a condom. She just laughed out loud and told me there would be no need for condoms as she was on the pill, and she wanted me to shoot my spunk inside her. I was rock hard now and my cock looked far larger than normal. My hands were still sore from her belting, but I’d already forgiven her, so when she slipped off her blouse and asked me to help her unfasten her bra, I was there in a flash. I was soon playing with her magnificent bare breasts and large protruding nipples. She pulled my head down to suck on them for a while before kneeling on the edge of the bed and sticking her girdled bottom out to me. She reached back between her legs and guided me to her entrance. I had to pull the hem of her girdle up her arse slightly to let me in, but I was surprised just how tight she was as I slowly pushed my cock into her. She was stroking the undersides of my scrotum with her hand as I started to pump her, and I knew I was never going to last long as I was just so turned on by the whole affair. Sure enough, after about twenty or so frantic strokes I was shooting my load inside her. I continued to ride her for a minute or so, but the end of my knob was now super sensitive, and I just had to stop and withdraw from her, as I thought I might piss myself. She was quite critical of my poor performance, although she did understand that I was extremely turned on. However, she pointed out in no uncertain terms that if I failed to service her properly once I had recovered, and make her come at least once before coming myself, then she would be putting me over the back of the chair for two dozen with the tawse, bare bottom and very firmly applied. She lay trabzon escort bayan me back on the bed with my feet on the floor and positioned herself between my legs. She licked my cock clean of my spunk and her juices and then started to roll her tongue around my knob, just like she was licking an ice cream. Once I had a good semi on, she got onto the bed and straddled my face and took me in her mouth again. She sat her pussy down on my face and as my spunk ran from her, she made me lick her clean. It wasn’t very pleasant for me but I soldiered on, and I soon had her moaning as I supped at her clit. By this point I was fully hard again, and she complemented me on my quick recovery before spinning herself around to straddle my erection. She inserted my bell end between her lips before sliding down my length and getting herself comfortably impaled. She then leaned forward slightly and placed the palms of both hands on my chest before raising herself up my cock and then slapping herself down hard on my pubis. She quickly built up a steady rhythm and was bouncing up and down on my cock quite nicely. Her heavy breasts were swinging wildly back and forth as she rode me, and I started to worry that I might come before she did and face the consequences. I reached between her arms and placed my hand on her bouncing mound and tried to get my fingers either side of her clit. Once in position, I worked them back and forth with her thrusts on my cock and I could tell by her rhythmic yelps that I was hitting the spot. A minute later she was there, bucking wildly on my cock and screaming out through her orgasm as I furiously worked her clit. I rolled her over on to her back and fucked her as hard as I could. She grasped my arse and dug her fingernails into my cheeks and urged me on to fuck her harder. Perhaps it was the pain she was inflicting on my bottom, but I lasted a good five minutes before I came inside her, by which time I’d given her a really good ride. She came again, just as I was in my final orgasmic thrusts, and I felt ten feet tall in having been able to satisfy a mature woman. She was generous in her praise and gave my bottom a final smack before she got up from the bed and went for a shower, telling me to get dressed. She returned a few minutes later and much to my relief, put the tawse back in the wardrobe drawer. I once again had to promise not to tell a soul about our encounter, especially if I was hoping for a repeat performance. I certainly was, and I’m happy to say I learned a lot from Jean Cameron over the next two years as I was a frequent visitor to her bedroom. Sally and I drifted apart when she started University in October and met some new friends, and although I missed her company, she couldn’t hold a candle to Jean when it came to fucking. Jean frequently spanked me as part of our sexual foreplay and I even had her across my own knee occasionally, for a taste of her own medicine. I never saw her tawse again however, but I have had my arse belted since and more than once, but that as they say, is another story! Sadly, Jean emigrated after two years to live with her widowed sister in Canada, but I’ve never forgotten that first day in her bedroom and how I managed to avoid her tawse across my bottom.

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