Daughter/Sister Part 1 - Sex Stories

Daughter/Sister Part 1

... Mabel Marshall. While I knew of her reputation as a strict disciplinarian, I assumed that if I worked as hard as I had up to then, I would avoid any unpleasantness. There was not a chance. Free use of the tawse was Miss Marshall’s way of keeping control, and she made no exceptions. So, even the most well-behaved girls routinely encountered the fiery kiss of her tawse. I, therefore, presented Miss Marshall with a quandary. Having never experienced the behaviour-changing pains of the school tawse, I might be a free-spirit who would disrupt her class. So, she decided to put me firmly in my place at the first opportunity. I was called to the front of the class mid-morning on my first day.

“Miss Yates, you seem to be daydreaming. You need some help focusing on your work. Hold out your hands this instant.”

As I did so, I heard a collective gasp from the others in the room as Miss Marshall took a heavy two-tailed tawse from her drawer. I knew of its fearsome reputation and quickly learned it was well deserved. Excruciating pain surged through my right hand and then my left as the belt caused its venomous mark. I howled at every hit and wailed like a baby as she put extra effort into the sixth and final strikes to each hand. My extreme reactions pleased Miss Marshall on a job well done. Furthermore, I was even more shocked to find she was not the only one happy about my downfall. The smiles on my fellow students' faces told me they loved that 'Miss goody-two-shoes’ had got her ...

... just desserts and was now just another pupil in the class.

My classmates did not get to gloat for long because, in the weeks that followed, one by one, all thirty endured the not-so-loving kiss of Miss Marshall’s belt. At first, I thought it was just my bad luck to be the first chosen for her remedial education. However, that notion was soon dispelled when I was again called to the front of the class two weeks after my first encounter. I was ordered to bend over Miss Marshall’s desk on this occasion. As soon as I was in place, she unleashed six withering blows of the heavy tawse onto my bottom. Believe me, skirt and knickers give little protection. The pain from each strike was much worse than any hit to my bare hands, so I shrieked and howled at every strike. You could have heard a pin drop-in class as Miss Marshall put her tawse away, for the girls were in shock, afraid that they might be next. By contrast, Miss Marshall looked serene, almost at peace with the world.

Sadly, the class’s worst fears came to pass. All the girls were belted on the bottom after that. However, while most were spanked by Miss Marshall only once over any six weeks, I suffered her special treatment at two-week intervals. Moreover, while the others continued to get six on the skirt each time, Miss Marshall soon progressed to belting me on my panties and session on session increased the number of hits from six to nine to twelve and occasionally to fifteen if she was particularly outraged. My bum ...