Barebottom spanking stories

Added: Derreck Carignan - Date: 05.04.2022 15:08 - Views: 13091 - Clicks: 2993

in. But his instructions were quite clear. So I just stare at the wall and listen to footsteps walking away. He stops after 10 steps. Behind me, a hinge creaks. What is he doing? What exactly lies within has been the subject of many speculative conversations among my peers, but no student has ever looked inside.

He must be looking for a suitable implement to punish me with. What will it be, I wonder? The suspense is building, my breathing quickening, but I dare not turn around. That would be asking for trouble. Yet, my curiously is an itch that must be scratched. Restraining my impulsiveness has always been my weakness. I take a chance, quickly turning my head — only to see him looming over me.

His voice chastises my disobedience. His voice is commanding rather than angry, reminiscent of past summer sailing holidays, how the skipper would scold me when I fooled about on deck. A stern disapproval of my silly recklessness. I blush furiously as I try to explain myself. One look from him is all it takes to silence me.

Now I know it will be worse. Caught peeking! I swivel back to face the wall, staring at the floor in embarrassment, willing it to open up and swallow me whole. I await his next instruction in silence. Now I can hear my own shallow breathing and a clock ticking in the distance. Silence is indeed deafening. And tense. And awkward. And boring. Get on with it, I urge. This tedious waiting is almost worse than any punishment. And then Barebottom spanking stories me, out of the silence, emerges a soft tapping noise. I hesitate before turning around, then meekly take two steps forward, my head still bowed, eyes still fixed on the floor.

My eyes follow his finger, now pointing at the large, imposing table at the front of the room. I stare at it, hardly daring to move, like a startled animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. My hesitation prompts him to Barebottom spanking stories his voice.

Spooked, I hurry towards the desk, pausing for just a second before bending over it. The big mahogany table looks ancient, its worn, slightly uneven surface mottled with splots of ink. It also feels old, as I reach over my fingertips rub across coarse gaps in its grain. And as I lower my head, I can smell its age, its fresh wood scent long gone, now it smells of elderly wood polish, a musty kind of wax.

Yet despite its venerable age it is still a sturdy table, I feel it would protect me, I just wish I could somehow hide underneath it. Getting louder, and louder…. I approach to within two paces of my prone young student. I see her legs trembling slightly, and I know she is afraid, her heart fluttering, her primal instincts telling her to run away from me — her imminent threat.

Barebottom spanking stories

Yet here she still is, compliant and submissive, lying across the old oak desk, waiting for Barebottom spanking stories spanking that will wipe all her transgressions away. Your teachers consider you a gifted student, but your casual approach to your studies must be corrected.

Then my voice softens, as I make known my sadness at her disobedience. But I have punished too many recalcitrant minxes to be sure of her sincerity. But by the time they leave this room, he bowed and bottoms glowing, their sorrow tends to be genuine. Hands on your head, please. Her imminent punishment is no excuse for a lapse of politeness. She complies without complaint, a good.

My fingers grasp the hem of her skirt. She emits a shallow gasp as her upper thighs and panties are exposed. I reach down to correct her stance. Point your toes inward. Now I can see her globes stretching the material of her white school knickers.

I expect you to take your discipline with good grace.

Barebottom spanking stories

No shouting or pleading, or I shall take down your panties. I begin to rub the paddle over her taut underwear and the bare skin of her upper thighs. I start spanking slowly and gently, alternating between her cheeks. My spanks increase in force until she begins to wince with every smack. A pink glow begins to develop underneath her panties. Her breath is ragged, as she struggles to keep her composure.

One last flurry of smacks, accompanied by yelps. Then silence. Now to do something about that peeping, I think I have just the answer. I walk back to cupboard and retrieve two special items, one is a shiny plastic mechanical timer, shaped like an egg. I wind it up, twist to set it and it begins ticking: it emits a hollow, metallic clink-clink-clink, like two teaspoons jangling together. She gasps as I pull back her panties, slipping the egg timer between her warm rosy cheeks and onto the gusset of her underwear. I position it carefully, against Barebottom spanking stories perineum, where she will feel its ticks most intimately.

She gingerly eases herself off the desk. Her eyes widen in surprise as I place the scarf over her brow, and wind it three times around her head, before tying it in a bow. Once blindfolded, I take her hand and escort her back into her naughty corner.

Barebottom spanking stories

I save the surprise until last. She gasps a syllable of complaint, but manages to stifle it. I return to my desk, to admire the view. What are you thinking, I wonder, as you stand silently in the corner, skirt lifted, bottom glowing, a ticklish ticking against your most sensitive spot?

Barebottom spanking stories

Do the tiny vibrations echo through your body, amplified by your anticipation? I leave her to wait. As I stand there in that corner, staring at the blackness of the blindfold and listening to the tick, tick, tick of the egg timer, I imagine myself in another place. The ticking seems to be Barebottom spanking stories louder, a sotto voce rather than a whisper. My mind runs wild with the possibilities of what will happen when the ticking finally stops. Will he tell me to pull down my panties?

Or will he do it? Will he drag them abruptly whilst scolding me? Or lower them slowly and compassionately? What will he spank me with? His bare hand perhaps, or a wooden ruler? Will that pink glowing bottom of mine change to a darker shade of red? How will I feel? What if I get excited? My head spins, the scenarios seem endless…. Why is that egg timer still ticking? Surely, he must want to punish me by now. Is he still watching me? Patience, I tell myself. All will be revealed soon enough. The tense silence is broken by the din of the school bell. That feels such a long time ago now. The bell rings for 30 seconds, filling my fevered mind with noise.

The bell als the end of the school day. The school will be emptying, and here am I, alone with one of my teachers. About to have my knickers pulled down. But exciting. I Barebottom spanking stories every vibration, slowly becoming more and more aroused. There is now a familiar dampness in my knickers. I feel thrillingly naughty. I sense him still sitting behind me, watching.

Being caught touching myself would be so humiliating. But the anticipation of what will happen next slowly eats me up. Seconds pass, minutes pass, and still the ticking continues. Somehow the interval between the ticks seems to be getting longer and longer.

Now my arousal is giving way to frustration. When is this infernal ticking going to stop? Surely this is long enough. The vibrations continue and feelings of unfulfillment start to envelop me. More minutes pass. I think about my pink sore bottom, still smarting beneath me, and my frustration turns to indignation.

Who is he to be doing this to me? What right did he have to spank me and leave me standing a corner, waiting for him? Does he think he controls me? I am in control, I have every right to walk away if I wish. Maybe I will, that will show him.

Barebottom spanking stories

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A Girl’s First Bare Bottom Spanking – True Story