Monday, October 22, 2012

Rumors by Michael Alexander

Codes: F/m, spanking, school,

Jeremy Evans sat stiffly at his desk, the crumpled paper ball wadded up in his right hand.  He shook, just a little, as he contemplated what he was about to do.  Normally he wasn’t a trouble maker and considered one of the “well-behaved” kids.  But he just had to know.  The rumors… they were just too incredible to believe.  Spoken in dark rooms, behind the field house, after drinking one too many beers at a party, the tales bordered on insane.
Ms. Candice Rutger was an attractive women, if a little older than the type Jeremy would normally be attracted too.  She was a few inches over five feet, even in high heels, with blonde hair that was going to steel.  She was in her early forties, thin and strong, and wore conservative, yet tight clothing that emphasized the well proportioned curves of her breasts and hips.
But even had she been a crone, Jeremy would have been tempted.  He bit his lip.  Timing was the most important thing involved.  He had to choose the moment to throw so carefully.  His hand trembled as Ms. Rutger turned her back to the class, scrawling across the blackboard.  Her voice was powerful, easily in command of the class, and as she finished her sentence, Jeremy slid half-way out of the desk, and hurled the paper ball directly at Ms. Rutger.
Not only was his aim phenomenal, but so was his timing.  She turned around as the paper ball hit the apex of its arc, and her eyes flashed in fury.  To Jeremy’s astonishment, she not only spotted exactly who threw the paper wad, but caught it mid-flight, right before it was about to bang her in the nose. 
Caught red-handed, Jeremy’s face went white and he finished sitting down as the class erupted into laughter. 
“That will be enough!” Rutger hissed.  The class went immediately silent.  Nothing, not even Jeremy’s almost awesome shot, was worth violating the school rules.  Corporal punishment was the most common means of correction and no one wanted to risk getting their rump redecorated in the school colors of blue and red. 
“Jeremy Evans, how dare you?” demanded Rutger, her eyes burning.  Jeremy shrank into his desk chair, wishing for just a moment that he was terribly small.  “Detention.  You will return to my classroom at the end of the day where you will be paddled.  Do you understand?”
His mouth went dry and he nodded stupidly, but inside, a part of him screamed in triumph.  He had been afraid that she would merely chastise him with a verbal reprimand, or perhaps notify his parents.  Instead she had demanded his presence that afternoon, after class, and if what he had heard was true…
The rest of the school day seemed to crawl and Jeremy had trouble concentrating.  Part of it was due to the fear of the paddling, which he knew he would have to endure regardless of what else happened.  But there was also the knowledge… well, the suspicion, the hopes of what else would happen.  It was distraction that made him uncomfortable.
Finally the last bell rang and he proceeded quickly to Ms. Rutger’s room.  He arrived even before the last class’s final student left and the boy in question gave him a suspicious wink as he left.
“Close the door, Mr. Evans, and lock it,” Ms. Rutger said as she opened one of the drawers of her desk.
Jeremy nodded and closed the door, his foot kicking up the stopper and letting the heavy weight of the door swing it shut.  He twisted the dead bolt and the loud thunk of the lock securing the door sounded distinctly ominous to him.  When he turned back to Ms. Rutger, she was sitting in her desk chair, holding the paddle.
It was a serious looking weapon, made of solid wood and drilled with holes in order to make it sting more.  The handle itself was thin, but counterbalanced by a wide pommel.  It looked fearsome.
“Now, come here,” ordered Ms. Rutger.
Jeremy approached, his heart thumping wildly. 
“Unbuckle your jeans and push them down to your knees, Mr. Evans,” Ms. Rutger said.  Jeremy licked his lips, but then his pulse went even higher as he watched her reach across the desk and grab the large bottle of hand lotion she kept near the edge.  She pulled it toward herself and then pressed the top, depositing a massive dollop of white, unscented skin cream into her left palm. 
Jeremy trembled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans down.  He was wearing a pair of blue boxers.  The front was tented embarrassingly.  Ms. Rutger looked at him with bemused indifference and then she nodded.
“Now put your hands on the desk and bend over,” she ordered.  “No, take a step backward.  There needs to be room between you and the edge of the desk.  That’s better.”  She put the paddle down for just a moment, her right hand coming up and grabbing hold of the boxers.  “Now, as you well know, all corporal punishments are delivered bare bottomed.  We aren’t going to have a problem, are we?” she asked harshly into his ear.
Jeremy shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he replied, still trembling, having second thoughts.  His buttocks clenched in pre-stroke anticipation.
“Good,” Rutger replied.  Then she tugged the boxers down.
Jeremy’s cock bounced into hardened view like a just raised mast of a sailboat.  It bobbed up and down for a moment, seeking something, but as Ms. Rutger pushed the boxers down to Jeremy’s knees to join his jeans, his cock seemed to wilt.  The thought of the paddling was not something to look forward to.
“I’m going to hold you so that you don’t jerk too much,” Ms. Rutger said as she picked up the paddle again.  “This is going to hurt, but I hope you learn your lesson.”
Jeremy gritted his teeth. “Yes, ma’am,” he said again, bracing himself.
And then it happened.  Just like everyone said it would.  He gasped as she grabbed hold of his cock, the cool cream covering the tip as his shaft head hit her palm.  And it wasn’t merely a grip.  She began rubbing his shaft vigorously, working the lotion over his shaft, which had again hardened to immediate need.  He groaned, his hips involuntarily shoving forward, thrusting into her curled hand.  She squeezed him, pulsing around his manhood when suddenly she laid a stinging swat on his bared rump.
It had come as a surprise to Jeremy, but the delicious pleasure she was inflicting on his anterior made the pain in his posterior bearable.  He thrust again, grunting as the sting turned to heat and he rocked, his breath coming in short gasps.  Rutger wasted no time, but swung again, this time even harder.  The pain made him grimace, but the blow also moved him forward again, making the thrust of his cock through her slick fingers even more penetrating. 
For Jeremy, it felt like nothing he had ever experienced.  His cock seemed close to bursting as stroke after stroke fell on his exposed buttocks, burning them.  Rutger seemed to almost toy with him, moving her fingers, curling them around the tip, at one point making a small, tight “O” shape and gliding it down his shaft length until she was able to squeeze the very base of his cock. Then she focused on the purpled head of his shaft, tormenting him.  Together they moved, her hand stimulating him, working him to release, while he bounced between the need of her hand and the stinging agony of her paddle.
He cried out, shuddering, as the impending release rose in him.  His hips churned, rapidly pumping and Rutger picked up the pace of both her strokes against his ass, and the ones around his penis.  Her arms moved in blurs and then Jeremy grimaced, his cock throbbing in orgasmic release and he pumped a massive load of cream, indistinguishable from the lotion except in its viscosity, into her palm.
He almost fell, but instead put his head down onto his arm, his knees weak. Rutger continued rubbing his cock until it softened. Then she pulled away and used a paper towel to wipe her hand. 
“Turn and face me,” she said a moment later.  Jeremy blinked and straightened, his cock still hanging out, but limp and small, still coated in a mixture of cum and lotion.  He felt a momentary flush of embarrassment as Ms. Rutger took a second piece of paper towel and cleaned off his shaft. It felt… wrong, somehow.
“Pull up your pants, young man,” the teacher said, tossing the paper towels in the nearby waste basket.  It was ironic they fell on the crumpled paper Jeremy had thrown earlier, smearing it with cum and lotion.  “I think that’s enough correction for this afternoon.”
Jeremy swallowed.  He tugged his boxers back up, covering his manhood. “Yes, Ms. Rutger.  Thank you.”
Her eyebrow went up. “I am a bit surprised at you, Mr. Evans.  You aren’t the kind of student I would have expected this kind of behavior from.”
He flushed crimson.  There was no way he could possibly explain.  He pulled his jeans up over his smarting posterior.
She shook her head.  “But since you are here, I thought we might also discuss your scholastic situation.”
“My grade?” he asked stupidly.  He was a great student and was doing well.  What would she need to talk to him about?”
She nodded.  “Not your grade.  I said scholastic situation.  It’s my understanding that you will be attending university next year, are you not?”
Jeremy bobbed his head.  “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I think you would qualify for an English Scholarship, but it would take some private tutoring.”
“A scholarship?” Jeremy asked, his brain still not yet quiet functioning at normal levels.
She nodded. “That is correct.  If you wish to be tutored, you will come to my house on each Saturday for the next two months.  The tutorial will last a few hours at most.  Are you interested?”
“Oh! Um… sure!  That sounds great,” Jeremy replied, still at a loss for words.
Ms. Rutger nodded and picked up a pen, scribbling an address down.  “Excellent.  Be at this address at ten am, sharp, Mr. Evans.”  She handed him the paper and turned away.  It was clearly a dismissal.
Jeremy took the paper and blinked.  Slowly he shuffled away and headed for the door. It took him a moment to unlock it, but then he stepped out into the hall.  He felt strange, as if the day’s tension had been forcibly ejected from his body and his mind replayed the events of the last forty minutes.  His rump still ached and burned, but it was nothing compared to the arousal that returned in seconds as he remembered the feel of Ms. Rutger’s hand around his shaft. 
He looked down at the note paper in his hand, his cock thickening underneath his jeans.  Scholarship?  Private tutorials?  Jeremy Evans grinned.  Who would have guessed?
The rumors were right.

Michael Alexander is the author of "Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM, The Silver Locke, Sigma Epsilon Chi, and In the Dark (A BDSM Anthology)!  Check out his work at!

1 comment:

  1. Michael! I loved this! I hope there is a sequel in the works! - Bre


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