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Monday, 19 February 2018

Mr Manning’s Masterly Touch

From New Blushes Uniform Girls 2.07
‘Isn’t Mr Manning due back from his holidays,’ Sylvia Collins asked her daughter.
Fiona said, ‘Yes. I…uh…think he comes back today.’
‘Oh. Well I suppose you’ll be going round to see him. Have you done all that work he set you?’
Fiona made a face and shook her head. Flushing, she said, ‘Well I’ve done some…’
But she hadn’t. Not really anything at all. She just hadn’t been able to get down to it. Mainly because of Stephen. Fiona had started seeing him at the end of term. Which also was when she went to see Mr Manning and he gave her all that work to do. Mr Manning was Fiona’s English tutor. He was going on three weeks holiday to the South of France. ‘And when I come back, Fiona, I’m sure you will know all that work backwards!’
Oh Christ! Looking back over these last three weeks it seemed that all she had done was see Stephen. And not just see him either. Oh God! She half-ran up to her room and frantically got out some books. But it was too late now of course. Yes, he’d be back later today. And would want to see her tomorrow, Mr Manning wasn’t one to hang around. Oh Christ…!
It was good to be back, thought Derek Manning. The South of France was great, lovely weather and great scenery — including what you got on the topless beaches. But it was good to be back. For one thing there was dear, delectable Fiona. Who had been left with all that work to do, to make up for her shortcomings during the last year. But he would bet she hadn’t done it, or very little anyway. He knew what 17-year-old girls were like. They would spend all their time mooning around — when they weren’t engaged in frantic sexual grapplings with some boy.
But if Fiona hadn’t done the work, well, he would bawl her out naturally. But in fact he wouldn’t be too upset. Because he had had occasion to spank her bottom already, half-way through last term. So she would know what to expect. It had been most stimulating! For him at least. He reached for the phone. No point in hanging about. First thing tomorrow morning? Oh yes, he could imagine Fiona’s bottom trembling already…
Fiona could remember the smacked bottom of course. You don’t forget something like that. And it was clear and vivid in her mind now as she wheeled her bike up Mr Manning’s driveway. She anxiously bit her lip.
She was looking smart: a navy cardigan over her white cotton blouse with a quite short dark plaid skirt, and black formal shoes with stockings. Because Mr Manning liked you to look smart. Smart shoes with stockings. A suspender-belt…
She had been wearing stockings and a suspender-belt that time he had spanked her bottom. He had said he wanted her to wear them…
That afternoon at school he had said her work was really so awful he didn’t think she should come back for a final Sixth form year. She had started weeping. And then he had said it. Well, maybe…  but she would have to take some punishment to show she was serious. A spanking.
Could she accept that? Fiona would have accepted almost anything.
‘Come round to my place this evening then,’ he said. ‘Oh, and I’d like you looking smart. To show you’re taking all this seriously. I’d like you wearing stockings. And a suspender-belt.’
He had got her over his lap and pulled up her skirt. He had pinged one of the suspender straps against her bare thigh… and then taken down her knickers. A little pause and he had started spanking her bare bottom. Really hard! 
Yes Fiona could remember it all with crystal clarity. And she could guess it would be the same thing today, once he realised she hadn’t done any of that work. Well, unless he said he didn’t want to know any more and it was no use her coming back next year. But he wouldn’t say that! No, she was quite sure he would be prepared to give her a spanking if she agreed to it. And though it had been awful last time she wasn’t going to argue. That was why she had worn the stockings and suspender-belt again. To show she was willing. Contrite. Submissive…
She parked her bike and nervously walked to the door. It was a sunny morning, warm on her bike, especially wearing stockings. But it was going to be warmer. Or her bottom was…
Mr Manning was waiting for her, very tanned from his holiday. In response to her hesitant query he said it had been great. ‘But we need to talk about you, Fiona…’
They went through into the big room with the French window opening onto the garden. It was where he had spanked her last time. Mr Manning immediately went to sit in that same armchair. What was different was that he had a pile of books on the floor, some of them open. He pointed silently to them.
With butterflies inside her she picked one up. Yes, one of the set books for the A-Level English — which until yesterday she hadn’t even looked at.
Fiona flushed. And began stammering it out. She had meant to do so much work but somehow… etc.
‘Have you done any?’ Mr Manning asked icily.
She shook her head. ‘Well some… but… well I wasn’t really taking it in…’
He started on as before, about it being a waste of time for her to come back to school in the autumn. Fiona broke in, apologetically…
‘Sir… I… I…’
‘Yes? What…’
‘Please sir… I’m sorry. Really. And… I’ll take the same as… as before…’
‘A spanking?’
‘Yes… yes sir…’
‘But maybe I think you’re too hopeless and lazy. And there really isn’t any point in you coming back…’
Fiona had briefly considered and dismissed this response. She looked as she was going to burst into tears, like that last time.
‘So you’ll take a spanking?’
‘Yes… yes sir.’
‘Maybe you like it. Maybe having your bare bottom spanked turns you on. Fiona?’
She shook her head, red-faced. ‘No sir.’
Mr Manning pursed his lips. ‘Come here. Close. Turn round. And lift your skirt.’
Trembling, Fiona raised her skirt. Right up. To display her shapely legs in the sheer beige stockings. Above the taut stocking-tops the pale flesh of her bare thighs bulged slightly, spanned by the narrow straps of a white suspender-belt which disappeared into tight white knickers.
Mr Manning reached out to one strap and did what he had done before. Pulling the strap away from Fiona’s thigh and then letting go. It pinged sharply back against the flesh.
‘Hmmmm… Well, maybe now I’m back I’ll be able to keep you up to the mark, Fiona?’
‘Yes sir,’ she said breathily. And then, ‘Ouch!!’ as he pinged her suspender strap again, more painfully this time.
Derek Manning was adopting a laid-back demeanour which was quite at odds to the way he felt. He had been thinking about Fiona’s bottom ever since he got back (and not infrequently before that, while he was relaxing on those hot beaches). It had always been possible that she would have been slaving away and would know the work — and he would then have no excuse for getting at her lovely bum. Possible but unlikely perhaps, but it was marvellous to have the situation confirmed. And sweet Fiona virtually offering it to him. That gave you a really fantastic feeling. Not to mention a pleasant tightness in the front of one’s trousers.
‘Come on then,’ he said. As if reluctantly doing her a great favour. ‘Over my lap. Let’s have your knickers down.’
Fiona felt almost a sense of relief. Things were going to be alright. And next year she really would work hard. Yes, everything was going to be OK. Once she had had this spanking of course. She just had to endure that first…
She was over his lap now. Mr Manning had kept her skirt up as she got down and it was round her waist still. His hand was at her bare thighs above her stocking-tops. And then her bum… she gave a shuddery gasp. He was pulling her knickers down. Baring her bottom…
His hand had smacked hard down on one trembling cheek.
‘Aaaaooowwwww …!!!’
And another. Four or five more. Then he stopped.
‘Why don’t we have your knickers right off, Fiona. To allow more freedom of action…’
What freedom of action? She yelped out but he was doing it. Pulling them on down her legs and then off over her shoes. This was something new, her knickers hadn’t been off last time. And it was definitely worse. She felt much more vulnerable. For one thing there was nothing preventing her legs parting…
‘Just relax. Part your legs a bit…’
He was pushing them apart.
‘And we haven’t established what you’ve been doing. I mean when you should have been working. Mmmm?’
Fiona made spluttery sounds. She badly wanted to close her legs. But Mr Manning’s hand was there, on the inside of her thigh. If she closed them it would just trap his hand between her thighs. And anyway he had told her to open them…
‘I suppose it was some boy, Fiona. Yes? Banishing any thought of work from your head. Getting you all hot and steamy? Getting your knickers all wet…’
His hand had slid right up! To Fiona’s pussy. Which with her knickers off and her legs parted was  quite unprotected, like a sitting duck.
‘Keep still!’ He wasn’t taking his hand away, he was keeping it there. ‘I’m just checking.’
She was a bit wet. Well cycling could do that, it could be quite stimulatory. And Mr Manning’s fingers were parting the lips. Gaining access to where she was a lot wetter of course. She gave another shuddery squeal. His fingers were at her clit. Rubbing it.
‘Some boy, Fiona? Giving this a lot of hot action I imagine…’
She yelped again. Mr Manning couldn’t do this! It was awful! He hadn’t tried to touch her that other time. Not her pussy anyway. Just her bottom. Just whacking her bottom. But this… Fiona was writhing about but she couldn’t do anything. He had her hand twisted behind her back and so she couldn’t really move. And those fingers…
‘Ooooo…ohhh…!! Please…!!
But he wouldn’t stop! And it was getting to her. Well, when someone does that you can’t help it getting to you. Her writhings were becoming more rhythmic. And she wasn’t so much trying to squirm away now as working herself on his hand… and Mr Manning could see that!
‘It’s nice, eh!’
She tried to protest. To deny it. But it was obvious, which made it worse. And if he kept on… she was going to come…
But he didn’t! He stopped. And started spanking again!  Now the spanking was twice as bad. Maybe he wasn’t hitting any harder but she was in a real state now. Her whole body burning. It was shattering. She was gasping. And sobbing…
The devastating spanking kept going. When it did stop, Mr Manning began the other again. Now it really was too much. There were immediately urgent whimpery moans. Renewed writhings. In no time at all Fiona was coming.
Mr Manning pushed her to her feet.
‘Well I think we need a cup of tea after that.’
Fiona turned away, her face scarlet. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Her knickers were a crumpled little pile on the floor. Mr Manning must have seen her hesitant glance at them.
‘Yes, you can put them on if you want to. We can always have them off again if necessary, can’t we?’
Fiona didn’t answer. There wasn’t going to be more, was there? She felt really awful. Mr Manning bringing her off like that! Well it was embarrassing in the extreme. Reaching for her knickers, she tried to wipe the mortifying scene out of her mind. But she couldn’t.
Mr Manning had gone to make the tea, telling her to start on those books when she had her knickers on. Fiona tried to pull herself together. She had to show him she could concentrate.
Mr Manning brought the tea in. After they’d had it, he made her go through one of the books she was supposed to know.
‘Dreadful!’ he told her at the end. ‘Well, if you don’t improve 100 per cent by next week do you know what it will be? The cane! And for your information, Fiona, I can tell you the cane is ten times worse than a mere spanking.’
Fiona was not inclined to doubt it. With a little shiver she said she was really going to work
Then when she thought the visit was over — and the memory of that awful business over his lap had got just a little faint in her mind — Mr Manning said:
‘Well, I think one more spanking would be a good idea. As a reminder, Fiona. Slip your knickers down. And come here.’
She shook her head weakly.
‘Yes, come on!’ he told her.
And so Fiona was over his lap again. With her knickers down and her bottom once more bare…
Mr Manning gave her quite a few hard spanks. Then he stopped. His hand caressed the glowing flesh.
‘Oh and the other thing, Fiona. That boyfriend you’ve been seeing much too frequently. I think we’d better put a ban on him. For two weeks to start with. A total ban. OK?’
As Fiona made despairing sounds, Mr Manning’s hand slid in between her legs.
‘And if you get too frustrated…’
Well it seemed pretty awful. Dreadful in fact. That was how Fiona felt as she wheeled her bike down Mr Manning’s driveway and then got rather uncertainly on, to ride home. Not see Stephen! For at least two weeks!!
But… it didn’t turn out to be that bad. For one thing Mr Manning relented. Partly at least. A couple of days later he said maybe she could see Stephen as long as she was working properly.
Fiona was over his lap at the time. He had her knickers off and had been spanking her bottom, though not very hard. And also playing with her pussy.
It was the third time she was round at his house since he got back (three times in three days!) and he had been doing it quite a bit. Spanking her bottom, but in a half-playful way, and also playing with her pussy. And now… she quite liked it. Fiona pretended she didn’t like it but she did. It was a hot turn-on in fact, having his fingers at her clit and up inside her. Mr Manning had brought her off again, and more than once. And after that first time, well, it didn’t seem such a dreadful thing. It didn’t seem dreadful at all in fact.
And now he had said she could see Stephen again. That was really great!
‘But if you’re not doing your work, Fiona, it will be the cane. You won’t like that. Not at all.’
Fiona shuddered and made a whimpery sound. Partly at the thought of the cane, and partly as a result of what Mr Manning was doing. His fingers in her cunt.
Oooohhhhh!!’ He could really get a girl going. Well, maybe he was very experienced. Maybe he had done it to plenty of girls before…

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