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Message-ID: <36095asstr$1018746602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Tom Thumper" <tom9211@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} School Caning {T Thumper} (Fm, Femdom, spank, oral, humil)
Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2002 21:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Note:  This story contains broad hints about male on male sex that become 
explicit in the sequel.  So enjoy!


         A School Caning
         by Tom Thumper





		To Ms. Jones' annoyance, Ian raised his large hand
when she asked the class if anyone had forgotten their gym
strip.
	"Again, Ian?"  The entire class burst into laughter.
Red face, Ian nodded as big Trent Larson started flopping
his arm over his desk, provoking more hooting.
	"Quiet!"  Ms. Jones, in six-inch heels, clacked over
to Trent's desk, a ruler in her hand.  Trent continued
thumping his arm and making remarks to his brutish
friends.  Trent was the sleek and muscular type - a shark
amongst walruses.  The shark yelped as Ms. Jones smacked
his fin.
	"Sorry Ma'am," Trent muttered, running his eyes up
her slender legs, across her black mini-skirt and coming to
a rest on her large breasts, held snugly in a red velvet tank
top that made her pale white skin seem almost alabaster.
Ms. Jones dressed with an eye to keeping her male students'
attentions.
	"Off you go to Coach Bulzwaker," she said, pushing
the thick black frame of her glass back onto the bridge of
her nose.  The class rose nearly as one.  Trent held his hand
to his crotch, not from pain, his eyes blazing.  Ian rose as
well, hauling his baggy pants over his hips as he did.
	"Not you, Ian," Ms. Jones said briskly.  The class
snickered.  They knew what that meant.
	"Bend over my desk, Ian," Ms. Jones said, taking
her cane down from its holder over the blackboard.  Her
cane was talked about in hushed tones of fear and
reverence.
	"But--but--" Ian stammered.  "The other boys,
especially Trent-- I can't go into the locker room!"  He
couldn't look her in the eye, instead he stared at her chest.
	"So you admit purposely forgetting your gym
clothes," said Ms. Jones, trying to sound stern.  "We'll talk
about bullying in a moment, but first--"  She licked her lips.
"Your punishment."
	Ian opened his mouth, but seeing the look in Ms.
Jones' eyes and the way she smacked the cane into her
other hand, he bent over the desk, pulling up his jeans so
she would have a better target.  She always required a good
target when caning boys.
	"Aren't you ashamed of lying?"  The can smacked
across Ian's perky bottom and made the boy gasp.  "You
should be exercising, making your body even more
beautiful!"  The cane whistled through the air and whacked
his cheeks again.  Both of their faces were red.  Ms. Jones
struck yet again and again.  Ian could feel the dreadful
stinging radiating all over his poor bottom.  He tried to
fight the sensation, but failed.  Oh, he was twisted in knots,
his crotch pressed against Ms. Jones' solid oak table.  It--it
felt so good!

	Ms. Jones stood with her feet wide apart, swinging
the cane hard and fast, positively lashing the boy.  Ian's ass
was full and round under those silly baggy pants and the
cane raised a most delicious THWACK! as she swung.  She
was in control, full of lusty energy, hot and able to do
anything she pleased.  Ian could only obey her.  He was a
horny teenaged boy, totally under his beautiful teacher's
sway.
	"That's--"  THWACK!  "That is enough," she said
regretfully, patting Ian's stinging bottom with just enough
force to elicit another moan from the bent over boy.
	He stood up, making sure his jeans slid back down
to their usual baggy position.  His knees were trembling
and his bottom felt like it was crisscrossed with a hundred
cattle brands.  But he didn't feel the pain.  He could only
stare, breathing heavily, at Ms. Jones' heaving bosom.  He
was sure he could see erect nipples.  He glanced up at her
red lips, parted as she panted for air.  Sweat ran down the
side of her flushed cheek.
	"Now Ian," she said, slumping into the large chair
behind her desk.  "Come and sit with me and talk about this
bullying."  Ian's face flushed even redder and he turned
awkwardly to pull a chair up to the teacher's desk.
	"No."  Ms. Jones grinned.  "Come sit here."  She
patted her lap, uncrossing her slender legs.
	Ian's eyes widened and for a panicked moment he
thought of refusing.  But if he did say no there would be
more caning and then the stirring could be impossible to
contain.
	"Yes, Ms. Jones."  He slid meekly onto her lap.  Her
hand slipped casually under his t-shirt as he perched
himself.  She could feel the vibrations of his tensed abs.  He
felt the hardness of a nipple pressing into his side.
	"Now tell me," she said, running her hand over his
muscular back.  "Tell me all about the bullying in the boys
locker room."
	"I-- I can't!"  Ian was blushing furiously, loving how
Ms. Jones' cool hand stroked his back.  "It's in the shower
they--"  He broke off.
	"They do what, honey?"  Ms. Jones purred.  "You
and the other boys are naked, your muscles sore from
playing.  You're probably all soapy and everyone is
sneaking peeks at every else."  Ian started.  "All very
natural."  She smiled dazzlingly at him.  "I'd like to see
that--to get insight into the frisky teenage male's mind."
	"But it's not natural!"  Ian protested.  "That's why
they hold me to the wall and pull on me and laugh.  They
told the girls and now they laugh at me too!  Suzie Meyers
jumped into my lap on a dare, but she got hers!"
	"Oh Ian!"  Ms. Jones squeezed his leg.  She was
startled how his muscles twitched!  "It isn't the size that
matters," she lied.  "It is how you use it."
	"Trent said no one would ever want me."  Ian cast
his eyes down, letting them dwell on the valley of Ms.
Jones' cleavage.
	"Well, if you don't believe me," Ms. Jones said,
snatching hold of his zipper, "you'll have to show me!"
	"No, Ms. Jones!"  Ian leapt to his feet, the zipper
still firmly in her hand, and his pants fell to the floor.  As
he tried vainly to cover himself, Ms. Jones tried to smother
a giggle.  What had the poor boy done to himself?
	He had on the tightest little briefs, but beneath it
was coiled the most ridiculously large outline.
	'He's gone and stuffed his pants to boost his poor
ego,' thought Ms. Jones.  'I must help myself...I mean him!'
	She slipped onto her knees and pressed Ian against
the table.
	"You don't have to try and impress me," she said,
running her hands over his firm round ass.
	"I'm not trying."  He tried to pull away.  "Please, I'm
so ashamed."
	"You sit still and I'll judge if you have anything to
be ashamed of."  She fixed a smile on her face -- no telling
how small he was -- and yanked down his underwear,
expecting a pair or two of sports socks to drop into her lap.
	But no socks dropped only her jaw.
	Instead, a twelve-inch schlong unfurled out like a
great giraffe and peered down at her eagerly with its one
great eye.
	Ms. Jones goggled.  Pay dirt!
	"I know," said Ian sadly.  "It's too big."
	Ms. Jones reach up and stroked the sides of him,
pulsing veins rose to the surface easily.  She ran her hand
up and down, spell bound.  This was a magic staff!
	"Oh, Ms. Jones," he moaned.  "Please don't tease
me like the boys!  It feels so good."
	"I don't tease," said Ms. Jones, getting a hold of
herself.  "I teach."  Slowly and deliberately she licked his
swollen head.
	Ian sobbed, the knuckles of his hands going white,
gripping the table's edge.
	"You need to relax," Ms. Jones said, slipping off her
top and letting her large boobs gently smack his cock.
"This is going to be pleasant."
	"Your tits, they're so --"  Ian's cock grew thicker
and longer with each longing glance.  "So big and
beautiful!"
	"I've seen you ogle them when I pick up the chalk."
Ms. Jones pushed her boobs together, sandwiching Ian's
dong.  She made a point of bending over every class.

	"Yes, I do look!" grunted Ian, his cock head
bobbing up and down between her boobs.  "Your class is
the worst.  I get so big I can hardly walk.  And then it's time
for gym!"
	"You poor boy," said Ms. Jones, lowering her chin
so she could lick the precum oozing from Ian's cock.  "You
get so big from slutty old me and then Trent gets his hands
on you in the locker-room."  She slipped her hands around
the base of his cock shaft and squeezed tightly.  She didn't
want any explosions, just yet.
	"Trent especially!  He gets me in the shower alone
and pulls and pulls, until--oh fuck, your boobs!"  Ian was
fucking Ms. Jones tits hard.  She could feel the pressure
building at the base.
	"You've never fucked a woman, have you, Ian?"
She stood up and leaned over him.  His cock left a trail of
cum all over the front of her min-skirt.
	"No.  No, Ma'am."  He almost looked scared.
	"Well," she said, unzipping the skirt and letting it
fall to the ground.  "Today is your lucky day.  I'm tired of
being the world's best cock-tease.  I'm ready for the city's
biggest cock."  She grabbed his cock and pulled him off the
table.  She rubbed the head all over the front of her red
thong, letting the cotton soak up all the clear liquid that
bubbled up as she squeeze him.  Turning, she rubbed her
bottom up and down, letting him slide up between her
cheeks, allowing his hands to squeeze her large tits hard.
His hands were almost large enough to cup them!  As he
gasped and swore, she pulled away from him and climbed
up on the table, spreading her legs wide.
	"Fuck my moist, horny, CUNT!" she barked
gleefully.
	Ian growled and ripped her panties off her quivering
ass.  He thrust them into his face and breathed her musky
scent deeply.
	"I'm gonna fuck your snatch, Ms. Jones," he
whispered huskily.
	"Come on," Ms. Jones whined, spreading and
closing her legs like a fan.  "Here is what you want."  The
dark triangle was a humid delta that Ian lusted to penetrate.
	Hefting his cock in one hand Ian pushed between
her legs, and shoved his cock into her juicy pussy.  His
hands grabbed her tities and she could smell the
testosterone rise from his brown skin.
	"Oh, God!" cried Ms. Jones, as her pussy stretched
to swallow his hard-on helmet.  It was like one of those
aircraft carrier shells!
	"I'm sorry!"  Ian started pulling back.  His voice had
changed back to a timid geek.  "Is it too much?"
	"No, no!"  Ms. Jones grabbed her ruler and began
smacking Ian's already sore ass.  "Fuck me, you hung
horse!"  She shoved herself onto him, wrapped her legs
around his, clawed his back with one hand and continued
spanking him with the other.  The spanking unleashed the
fuck-monster in Ian.
	He plowed deep into Ms. Jones snatch and she cried
out like a startled virgin.  She never expected to feel this
way again, not after all those nights spread on the pool
table at Mike's Bike Bar.  She had made "stroking the
velvet" an erotic password for the members of at least two
biker gangs.
	She pushed Ian's head between her boobs as his
cock spread her wider and wider.  She was babbling now,
crazy with the pleasure, stroking the velvet back of his
neck, watching his buttocks contract and release as his tree-
trunk cock tickled every inch of her.
	She could feel him tremble and shudder and at that
instant his enormous cock pressed some hidden button deep
inside of her.  Unbidden screams burst forth, and she
moved her full hips with and against him, until the force of
his fucking was so overwhelming that she was half begging
for him to stop while the rest of her was begging to be
fucked to death.  Her juices ran down their legs.  She was
swimming in rivers of his cum, his cock was a canoe
carrying her to ecstasy.  With one final scream and
explosion of pleasure she blacked out, but only for a
moment.
	"Oh, oh!!" she gasped, as he pulled his still
twitching cock of her gapping pussy.  "You get an A!"
	"Trent likes this," said Ian.  Using both hands he
stroked himself until, even though he had already cum
bucks, he groaned again and his dick gushed shots of white
stickiness all over her boobs and face.
	"A plus, A plus!" Ms Jones laughed, rubbing the
sticky mess all over her curvy body.
	In the washroom, as Ian carefully toweled Ms.
Jones after a quick shower, she announced the next lesson
plan.
	"You and your big boy," she said, jerking the towel
from around his waist.  "Your very big boy, who loves it
when I stroke him like this.  Oh yes! a very perky boy!
You are excused from gym for the rest of the year."
	"Mmmmm...."  Ms. Jones arched her back and
allowed Ian to suckle on her teats.  "We'll make Trent miss
gym too.  I think you've been having naughty fun with
him."
	"Some more punishment?"  Ian asked, only taking
his lips from Ms. Jones' large brown nipples long enough to
ask the question.
	"Lots of punishment for all my students," said Ms.
Jones, wrapping both hands round Ian's cock.  "Let's hurry
now, class starts in ten minutes.  We'll have to be very
neat."  She dropped to her knees and looked up.  She
seemed much younger than twenty-seven without her
glasses.  "Don't worry, I'll swallow every drop."

- fin -



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