Category: school

The good old days

More images from those golden years before society went to the dogs.  When chaps went out to rule the empire with nothing more than a cleft stick, a good solid education thrashed into them at one of the better public schools and a memsahib with firm opinions about household management.

It’s more Downton domination.

Chaps back then weren’t supposed to cry in public, but you know I’m willing to bet that tears flowed from time to time in the privacy of the marital chamber, whenever men recalled their school years with the help of their loving wives.


She seems like rather a forward young lady, proposing a trip to the kinema (‘pictures’ indeed – and she a schoolmistress!) before she has even been properly introduced! Still, she seems to have some sound ideas in her head, so I suppose it’ll be all right.
I suppose a little fresh air while he was being thrashed never did a chap any harm.
Funny, really – after hating the floggings and humiliations inflicted at school, to find oneself married to a girl who likes nothing better than to apply the same methods.  It does make you wonder if there might be something in all that guff that Freud chappie writes, don’t you think?
I always thought there was something a bit rum about that stable boy with the long hair.  Tell you what – pay close atention to the noises he makes when he’s buggering you.  If he’s enjoying it too much, we might have a homosexual on our books – and I imagine the Police would like to be informed about that! 





I am not a doormat

OK: that’s not strictly accurate: obviously I am a doormat. But I’m not just a doormat, you know?  I am also a foot-rest, a cup-holder, a draft excluder, a bookshelf end and a rather amusing vase for flowers.  Although no more than three of those things simultaneously.

It’s odd how sometimes the most sadistic individuals so often realise later that they weren’t cruel enough.  My SO has this problem all the time: you’d think she’d learn and stop being so lenient.

So… does that mean next week it’s my turn again?  No?  Oh.

There seems to be quite a lot of shared understanding in that room. Obviously some great teaching techniques being applied.

Lion?  Lover-boy?  Lady-killer?  Liposome?  Leprechuan?

Perhaps they could somehow transplant the ones from the real rapist?  After a fair trial and conviction, obviously.  Oh – he already lost them in the police station?  That’s unlucky.  Funny how often that happens… you’d think the police would take more care.




A man’s place

.. is wherever she puts him.

It did promise to love, honour and obey in sickness and in health, after all.  Didn’t it?


Fortunately teachers are allowed to remain standing in class.

Just as long as I don’t have to swap nappies with Petie. I always hate that, don’t you?



I have occasionally paid women for sex, I’ll admit.  The very first time I tried it I was really nervous but she said I was very cute and that she’d actually enjoyed the sex!  So that was pretty cool.  I hope the guy she did it with enjoyed it too – I never met him.
Women are strange.  Why lie around in what is obviously sexually arousing lingerie, when I’m locked up in a spiked cage? Honestly, you’d think they’d have more sense.


Bottom marks




Oh hello, Sir!  We
wanted to talk to you about our maths grades. 
We were wondering if maybe you’d miscounted?
I mean, it’s unlikely. You being a maths teacher and
all.  And we’re just schoolgirls.  Naughty schoolgirls, who are bad at sums.

You like teaching schoolgirls, don’t you, Mr Harris? We
know, ‘cos we looked through your things and you’ve got ever so many books and
magazines about it!  You must be really
devoted to your profession, to want to read about it all the time like that…
 
They’re ever so strict, though, aren’t they?  The teachers in your magazines, I mean. Those poor
girls and their sore bottoms!  Belinda
here was worried that maybe you’d smack our bottoms for being so naughty!  But I told her that was totally illegal and
you’d go to prison.
Annie wondered whether you could go to prison just for
having those magazines, but I don’t think you can, can you?  Not illegal to enjoy looking at pictures of
grown-up women dressed as schoolgirls having their bottoms smacked, is it?  Not even for a teacher at a girls’ school.  I’m sure the Head and the Board of Governors
wouldn’t mind. 
  
If we showed them.
Really?  You might
have miscounted our grades after all? 
Oh.  By how much?  ‘cos we think we got 20 every time.
No, really. Every single time.  Even when it was marked out of ten or fifteen.  You’re a maths teacher, I expect you can come up with some clever maths to do that.  Can’t you?

That reminds: there was a story in one of Mr Harris’s magazines about a girl who needed better grades in maths, wasn’t there, Annie? And she ended up with the teacher’s penis in her mouth – do you remember?  I shouldn’t think that tasted nice at all… I don’t suppose teachers are allowed to do that these days, either.
Do you remember that one, Sir? It looked like you’d read that one quite often. Belinda thought maybe you’d spilled something on the page.
Did we?  Ooh!  Twenty every time?  Well, that is good news, isn’t it, girls?
Still… it’s not very impressive is it? For a maths teacher to
have made a mistake in counting up like that! 
It should have been 20 every time, but you gave us four, five, six… That’s
a lot of mistakes in your arithmetic, isn’t it, Sir?
I wonder if there’s anything we could do to help you
improve?  I mean, obviously you need to learn to do sums a lot better, don’t you?  Sir?
What do you think would happen to one of the girls in your
magazines who made that many mistakes in maths? 
We were talking about that just now.  I think she’d at least get her hands tawsed, the poor thing, but Belinda here reckons
it’d probably be the cane across her bum.  And Annie thought it would be both.

But you’re the professional, Sir.  So what do you think?
Images, obviously, from St Mackenzies, comprising part of that tiny, tiny fraction of the photos they publish taken before everyone gets their kit off.

Seductive logic


I understand they have some extra toppings to add, too.


Seems only fair.  He was up half the night, poor chap.

Knew I should have gone with the gift card.

I went to see the St Trinians movie as soon as it came out, but I was a bit disappointed that I was the only one who’d bothered to dress up for it.  

Thanks for coming.


Penalty and repentance

 

They are – and not just the food.  The sex will be longer, more satisfying and 100% female, too.
You get a special decoration too.  Not a medal.  Just… decoration.
Sometimes a question isn’t really a question.
 
It’s always difficult arriving as a substitute teacher, in the middle of the school year.  But just do your best.  Maybe Mr Harris will turn up again – he must be somewhere, after all.
Perpetuity is quite a long time.  It might feel even longer.




Fail better

I do that. I’m really good at failing, actually. 

A bit of a shame to call in sick – the girls at work recognised you and have something special planned, whenever you’re next in the office.


Marriage is always a learning experience. She’s just determined to make the learning experience a bit more structured, that’s all.

I’ve always tried to use humour to defuse tense situations. On my very first… time with a woman, if you know what I mean, I was very nervous indeed.  Fortunately she burst out laughing as soon as I’d taken my clothes off, and she was still giggling when her taxi arrived ten minutes later. I’ve always been able to make women laugh: it’s a gift.
I suppose that must mean she has a basement too – they’re all the same, the houses on that row. I wonder what she keeps down there?




Funnily enough, it turns out Prop 677 wasn’t even necessary. Enough Californians worship Anne as a goddess for her to qualify for the religious exemption, so she didn’t have to pay taxes anyway. Still: it was a nice gesture.

Thigh five

… which is obviously a made-up phrase.  Oddly, though, there are many two-word phrases in the English language beginning with the word ‘thigh’ and every single one of them is erotic. Strange but true. 

Unlike, say, the words ‘rancid’ or ‘viscous’, unless you’re really weird and we don’t like weirdos on this blog, thank you very much.


You can do anything*, but don’t wank on my black suede boots. 

* No you can’t.





You might imagine that this young lady is headed for a stellar career as a professional dominatrix, but as things turned out she actually became the head of Ryanair’s Customer Complaints department.  So there you go.

Dave’s need is greater than yours. Well.. his cock certainly is, anyway.
It’s OK as long as I keep my mind off all thoughts sexual
Ocasionally, when I have an idea for a caption, I’ll worry that one of the many, many other femdom caption sites on the Internet will already have done it. This one, not so much.


Matronising attitudes

Well, all right. As long as I get to have my say on the subject.

That’s fair.
It’s so hard to choose sometimes, isn’t it?  Hmm… would I rather have a cock in my mouth or a turd? It’s so hard being submissive – I’ll bet other sexual perversions don’t end up causing such dilemmas.

It’s actually doubly unfair to set particularly hard questions to boys, because we’re stupider.

Hope she reads the instructions.  Apparently, if you exceed the recommended dose, it can cause quite a lot of discomfort. I mean, more than the intended discomfort, obviously.