A CP fantasy
I'm guessing we all have our own personal fantasies that we turn to for some sexual relief?
Here's mine...
Nicolette got up from her desk and started to make her way over to the prefect's common room.
She had just started a work experience placement from her 5 year teacher training degree.
She was liking her role as discipline administrator in the outer office of the head teacher.
On her own initiative, she had set up a pre-school meet up with the prefects each morning to discuss good order and discipline with them.
Paul was a fifth year prefect and was rather smitten with young Nicolette, understandable as there was only some 2 years seperating them agewise. He was always the first to ask her if she wanted a cup of tea. She encouraged the boys to call her by her first name within the confines of their common room.
Come 8.55, the boys had to depart for their first class of the day and young Nicolette had to return to her office in case of latecomers.
Paul and 2 other prefects were in class and ready by 8.59.
His prefect buddies were ribbing him about his infatuation with young Nicolette and as he threw a tennis ball at one of their heads in walked Ms Jenkins to start their chemistry class.
The tennis ball bounced off Steve's head and as misfortune would have it deflected off in the direction of a rack of test tubes knocking one off its perch and smashing into shards on the classroom floor not far from Jenkins' feet.
"Mason, come here" she shouted in a controlled manner.
Paul dutifully and meekly complied with a "Yes Miss" and trotted towards the front of the class.
"You do know how serious that reckless throwing of a tennis ball could have been don't you?" she asked with a strongly dissapproving stern-ness.
"Yes Miss" he replied with some reservation.
He hadn't anticipated her next move.
She reached into her shoulder bag and extracted her booklet of pink slips.
Pink slips were a formal referral for punishment, mainly for serious offences and mandated a sound and severe punishment.
A very rare sight for one to be issued to a senior pupil in the fifth or sixth year of secondary education, even rarer for a prefect to be issued with one.
She filled it in with his name, offence and duly signed it.
"You know where to take this" she remarked somewhat glibly, handing over the pink slip to the young miscreant.
"Yes Miss" he replied, head now hanging in shame.
Without a word, she simply pointed to the door and Paul dutifully left the classroom.
A rather silly bit of tomfoolery in class had got completely out of control and he was going to pay for it ‐ and painfully.
All pink slips had to be taken to the head teacher's outer office for recording and registering in the punishment book.
The miscreant pupil would be registered for formal punishment at the end of the school day and issued with a deep red coloured 'report for punishment' stub/chitty.
The whole process was administered and overseen by young Nicolette on behalf of the head teacher who would administer all formal punishments.
As he approached the outer office, the door was half open and he heard that unmistakable sound of a leather belt connecting with an outstretched palm.
Two first year pupils had been caught being late for school and subsequently yellow slipped for an informal punishment.
Nicolette was empowered to administer corporal punishment for such lesser offences.
As he pulled up to the half open door the last 2 strokes had been delivered to the last of the young boys and he was returning the belt to its hook on the wall.
Nicolette returned to her desk and sat down.
She then caught a glimpse of him in the door opening.
"Paul, come in" she quipped in a very matter of fact tone.
Paul kept the pink slip out of sight and snuck in without saying anything.
"Did you want to see me" she enquired quite pleasantly.
Paul said nothing.
He moved closer to her desk bringing the pink slip into view.
He was so ashamed of himself and embarassed to be in the position he found himself in.
Only some 15 minutes ago he was exchanging pleasantries with this stunningly attractive young woman in his common room.
He moved closer to her desk and simply handed her the pink slip.
He had said nothing since appearing at the doorway and he was going to pay for that level of quiet disrespect.
'What was he doing with a pink slip' she thought to herself.
'Had he found one in the corridor?'
She opened it up and there it was, HIS name in block capital letters on it.
The offence read 'Disruptive and agggressive behaviour that resulted in damage to school equipment'.
She was somewhat shocked and disappointed to say the least.
He had not formally addressed her or showed her any respect since entering her office.
She had shown him respect and confidence only 15 minutes previously and now this.
She had to take control of the situation.
"Come round here Mason", she commanded, the dynamic between them very much having shifted firmly to teacher/pupil mode.
She was pointing to the corner of her desk, on her side of the desk.
She stood up and gently removed the prefect badge from his shirt.
"It's unlikely you'll get this badge back this particular term, young man.
School regulations require any prefect issued with a pink slip punishment referral be stripped of that status on reporting for registration".
"Now, stand in line behind these two young lads, hands behind your head" she instructed with a heightened sense of authority.
Paul moved to the back of the queue, once again without a word of acquiessence.
'That was enough' she thought to herself, she had to regain her authority and command respect, moreso in the witness of the 2 young first formers who were awaiting the stamping of their yellow slips.
"Come Here Mason and quickly - boy", her tone now annoyed by his lackadaisical if not downright disrespectful attitude since entering her office.
You do know how you should address staff members when asked a question or given an order?
"Yes Miss" he responded.
"Clearly not until just now" she emphasised.
Fetch the belt from the middle hook and stand in the punishment circle, both hands out, cradling the belt".
The "Yes Miss" reply came sharply and he trotted over to the array of belts hanging from hooks on the facing wall.
The middle belt was H labelled and normally used on 3rd and 4th year pupils.
He wondered how, or why, he had escaped the XH senior belt on the right hand hook.
She watched him take up a position and cradle the belt with the handle on his right.
"Handle to your left tails to the right - boy" she curtly instructed.
"Yes Miss" he uttered and dutifully swapped the belt around.
She continued processing the two yellow slips and told both of the younger boys to stand to the side of her desk.
She told them they would bear witness to what would happen if they acted so disrespectfully in her office.
Both boys were still smarting from their own single stroke across each palm, but it was a small comfort to watch somebody being punished more severely than they were.
She kept Mason standing there for a good couple of minutes.
A period of contemplation of what's to come or what has happened does no harm at all.
She got up from her seat and deftly lifted the heavy tawse off his palms! grabbing hold of the handle from the right.
She flexed it thoroughly just to loosen it up.
Stiff leather can stiffen up on a hook and flexibility is the key to a good solid belting.
"You do know why I'm belting you boy" she asked him.
"Yes Miss" he responded.
"Just in case you've forgotten, it's Yes Miss or No Miss when asked a question or given an instruction and nothing more unless asked to expand on an answer. Do you fully understand that?
"Yes Miss" came his reply with just a hint of sulliness.
"I'm normally limited to 4 strokes of the belt but - in extremis - with senior boys I can administer a full, formal six of the best and in your case just now 6 strokes seems quite appropriate".
Paul was a bit taken aback by the shock of that announcement.
"First hand up" she instructed.
He dutifully replied verbally and physically by presenting his right hand for the first stroke.
"You'll get three on your first hand, followed by three on the other hand. If you default on any stroke it will be repeated.
Default a second time and the stroke will be repeated and 2 penalty strokes added to your tariff.
Keep your hands in position before, during and after each stroke. Do you understand those instructions?"
"Yes Miss", a nervous edge to his voice now.
She knew how she'd administer his punishment, each stroke on each hand would escalate in force and severity.
To counter the pain and sting and numbness from the previous stroke, the subsequent stroke would have to be just a bit harder.
She raised the heavy two tailed Lochgelly tawse and brought it down with minimum force.
A standard stroke as she liked to call it.
Number two fell with slightly more vigour from her arm muscles that she classified as severe.
After two strokes is when the pain and sting starts to kick in
and poor Paul wondered if he could keep his hand in place for number three.
Nicolette liked to think of the last stroke as being extremely severe, the shoulder being brought into play.
Paul barely coped with keeping his composure after number three. He was on the verge of bursting into tears with the agony.
"Change hands" came the impassioned order from his punisher.
With his weaker hand the pain was just going to be even more unbearable.
He didn't want to flinch or appear weak in the eyes of the two young spectators who were now agog with the ferocity of this belting.
He bravely held his left hand in position until the end but was in full flow with tears at the end.
He cupped both hands under each armpit as recipients of a harsh belting tend to do but she wanted his hands back up and out for inspection.
Placing the tawse atop his cradled hands she instructed him to replace it on its hook.
The now perfunctory 'Yes Miss' barely audible through tears and snot.
There may be a Part 2 if there's a demand for this type of thing!
Here's mine...
Nicolette got up from her desk and started to make her way over to the prefect's common room.
She had just started a work experience placement from her 5 year teacher training degree.
She was liking her role as discipline administrator in the outer office of the head teacher.
On her own initiative, she had set up a pre-school meet up with the prefects each morning to discuss good order and discipline with them.
Paul was a fifth year prefect and was rather smitten with young Nicolette, understandable as there was only some 2 years seperating them agewise. He was always the first to ask her if she wanted a cup of tea. She encouraged the boys to call her by her first name within the confines of their common room.
Come 8.55, the boys had to depart for their first class of the day and young Nicolette had to return to her office in case of latecomers.
Paul and 2 other prefects were in class and ready by 8.59.
His prefect buddies were ribbing him about his infatuation with young Nicolette and as he threw a tennis ball at one of their heads in walked Ms Jenkins to start their chemistry class.
The tennis ball bounced off Steve's head and as misfortune would have it deflected off in the direction of a rack of test tubes knocking one off its perch and smashing into shards on the classroom floor not far from Jenkins' feet.
"Mason, come here" she shouted in a controlled manner.
Paul dutifully and meekly complied with a "Yes Miss" and trotted towards the front of the class.
"You do know how serious that reckless throwing of a tennis ball could have been don't you?" she asked with a strongly dissapproving stern-ness.
"Yes Miss" he replied with some reservation.
He hadn't anticipated her next move.
She reached into her shoulder bag and extracted her booklet of pink slips.
Pink slips were a formal referral for punishment, mainly for serious offences and mandated a sound and severe punishment.
A very rare sight for one to be issued to a senior pupil in the fifth or sixth year of secondary education, even rarer for a prefect to be issued with one.
She filled it in with his name, offence and duly signed it.
"You know where to take this" she remarked somewhat glibly, handing over the pink slip to the young miscreant.
"Yes Miss" he replied, head now hanging in shame.
Without a word, she simply pointed to the door and Paul dutifully left the classroom.
A rather silly bit of tomfoolery in class had got completely out of control and he was going to pay for it ‐ and painfully.
All pink slips had to be taken to the head teacher's outer office for recording and registering in the punishment book.
The miscreant pupil would be registered for formal punishment at the end of the school day and issued with a deep red coloured 'report for punishment' stub/chitty.
The whole process was administered and overseen by young Nicolette on behalf of the head teacher who would administer all formal punishments.
As he approached the outer office, the door was half open and he heard that unmistakable sound of a leather belt connecting with an outstretched palm.
Two first year pupils had been caught being late for school and subsequently yellow slipped for an informal punishment.
Nicolette was empowered to administer corporal punishment for such lesser offences.
As he pulled up to the half open door the last 2 strokes had been delivered to the last of the young boys and he was returning the belt to its hook on the wall.
Nicolette returned to her desk and sat down.
She then caught a glimpse of him in the door opening.
"Paul, come in" she quipped in a very matter of fact tone.
Paul kept the pink slip out of sight and snuck in without saying anything.
"Did you want to see me" she enquired quite pleasantly.
Paul said nothing.
He moved closer to her desk bringing the pink slip into view.
He was so ashamed of himself and embarassed to be in the position he found himself in.
Only some 15 minutes ago he was exchanging pleasantries with this stunningly attractive young woman in his common room.
He moved closer to her desk and simply handed her the pink slip.
He had said nothing since appearing at the doorway and he was going to pay for that level of quiet disrespect.
'What was he doing with a pink slip' she thought to herself.
'Had he found one in the corridor?'
She opened it up and there it was, HIS name in block capital letters on it.
The offence read 'Disruptive and agggressive behaviour that resulted in damage to school equipment'.
She was somewhat shocked and disappointed to say the least.
He had not formally addressed her or showed her any respect since entering her office.
She had shown him respect and confidence only 15 minutes previously and now this.
She had to take control of the situation.
"Come round here Mason", she commanded, the dynamic between them very much having shifted firmly to teacher/pupil mode.
She was pointing to the corner of her desk, on her side of the desk.
She stood up and gently removed the prefect badge from his shirt.
"It's unlikely you'll get this badge back this particular term, young man.
School regulations require any prefect issued with a pink slip punishment referral be stripped of that status on reporting for registration".
"Now, stand in line behind these two young lads, hands behind your head" she instructed with a heightened sense of authority.
Paul moved to the back of the queue, once again without a word of acquiessence.
'That was enough' she thought to herself, she had to regain her authority and command respect, moreso in the witness of the 2 young first formers who were awaiting the stamping of their yellow slips.
"Come Here Mason and quickly - boy", her tone now annoyed by his lackadaisical if not downright disrespectful attitude since entering her office.
You do know how you should address staff members when asked a question or given an order?
"Yes Miss" he responded.
"Clearly not until just now" she emphasised.
Fetch the belt from the middle hook and stand in the punishment circle, both hands out, cradling the belt".
The "Yes Miss" reply came sharply and he trotted over to the array of belts hanging from hooks on the facing wall.
The middle belt was H labelled and normally used on 3rd and 4th year pupils.
He wondered how, or why, he had escaped the XH senior belt on the right hand hook.
She watched him take up a position and cradle the belt with the handle on his right.
"Handle to your left tails to the right - boy" she curtly instructed.
"Yes Miss" he uttered and dutifully swapped the belt around.
She continued processing the two yellow slips and told both of the younger boys to stand to the side of her desk.
She told them they would bear witness to what would happen if they acted so disrespectfully in her office.
Both boys were still smarting from their own single stroke across each palm, but it was a small comfort to watch somebody being punished more severely than they were.
She kept Mason standing there for a good couple of minutes.
A period of contemplation of what's to come or what has happened does no harm at all.
She got up from her seat and deftly lifted the heavy tawse off his palms! grabbing hold of the handle from the right.
She flexed it thoroughly just to loosen it up.
Stiff leather can stiffen up on a hook and flexibility is the key to a good solid belting.
"You do know why I'm belting you boy" she asked him.
"Yes Miss" he responded.
"Just in case you've forgotten, it's Yes Miss or No Miss when asked a question or given an instruction and nothing more unless asked to expand on an answer. Do you fully understand that?
"Yes Miss" came his reply with just a hint of sulliness.
"I'm normally limited to 4 strokes of the belt but - in extremis - with senior boys I can administer a full, formal six of the best and in your case just now 6 strokes seems quite appropriate".
Paul was a bit taken aback by the shock of that announcement.
"First hand up" she instructed.
He dutifully replied verbally and physically by presenting his right hand for the first stroke.
"You'll get three on your first hand, followed by three on the other hand. If you default on any stroke it will be repeated.
Default a second time and the stroke will be repeated and 2 penalty strokes added to your tariff.
Keep your hands in position before, during and after each stroke. Do you understand those instructions?"
"Yes Miss", a nervous edge to his voice now.
She knew how she'd administer his punishment, each stroke on each hand would escalate in force and severity.
To counter the pain and sting and numbness from the previous stroke, the subsequent stroke would have to be just a bit harder.
She raised the heavy two tailed Lochgelly tawse and brought it down with minimum force.
A standard stroke as she liked to call it.
Number two fell with slightly more vigour from her arm muscles that she classified as severe.
After two strokes is when the pain and sting starts to kick in
and poor Paul wondered if he could keep his hand in place for number three.
Nicolette liked to think of the last stroke as being extremely severe, the shoulder being brought into play.
Paul barely coped with keeping his composure after number three. He was on the verge of bursting into tears with the agony.
"Change hands" came the impassioned order from his punisher.
With his weaker hand the pain was just going to be even more unbearable.
He didn't want to flinch or appear weak in the eyes of the two young spectators who were now agog with the ferocity of this belting.
He bravely held his left hand in position until the end but was in full flow with tears at the end.
He cupped both hands under each armpit as recipients of a harsh belting tend to do but she wanted his hands back up and out for inspection.
Placing the tawse atop his cradled hands she instructed him to replace it on its hook.
The now perfunctory 'Yes Miss' barely audible through tears and snot.
There may be a Part 2 if there's a demand for this type of thing!
M