Mr Milver’s Bottom Line

From Uniform Girls 46 with lovely Sandra Simley looking quite demure for once.

Mr Milver asks her, ‘What’s it going to be then? I rather think the cane is called for. For such a serious offence. Or a good strapping. Certainly one or the other. Wouldn’t you agree Anna? On your bare bottom.’

There is nothing she can do except agree. Because if she doesn’t Mr Milver can just go to the Head. And Mr Granfield will expel her. There isn’t much doubt about that. And if you have to choose, well, a caning or a strapping is preferable to being expelled. It will be pretty dreadful but once you’ve submitted to the sickening ordeal it will be over. And no one will know — apart from you and Mr Milver, and Mr Milver isn’t going to tell because he’s not allowed to cane girls. Not officially. No one is. Only for something like this he will. He knows he can get away with it because of course Anne isn’t going to complain. Complaining would mean telling the reason Mr Milver wanted to cane her. Which she can’t possibly do. She can’t have anyone knowing that… Not ever. Apart from Mr Milver of course who unfortunately already knows.

Anna’s gloomy reverie was interrupted by Mark. ‘You’re not listening. Day-dreaming Anna. Still thinking about those Frenchy characters?’

She said, ‘Don’t be silly. Why should I? I… I was thinking about that essay for Miss Fielding. I haven’t even started it yet.’

She and Mark had gone for a walk out in the country on this warm June Sunday afternoon. They were sitting in the long dry grass now, a bit against Anna’s better judgement because of course Mark would want to smooch — and that would lead to him wanting something else. Getting her knickers off and putting his thing in. She wasn’t in the mood for smooching and she certainly wasn’t in the mood for that other. Not after what had happened. Jean-Paul, the French boy, and then Mr Milver.

Mark, lying next to her in the long grass, slid his hand onto Anna’s tits. Squeezing one of them, he said, ‘At least they’re gone back home now. Dreadful characters. Arrogant and noisy. Well I suppose a couple of the girls weren’t too bad.’

Anna laughed softly. ‘I know you fancied that Nadine.’ But she wasn’t bothered about the French girls. They were all gone back now. The girls and the boys. Including Jean-Paul. She had really felt swoony about him in those last two weeks of the French visit. A really intense, walking-on-air feeling. Which was why she had gone that far. Letting him do it, twice. The whole thing. And the second time… with Mr Milver secretly watching.

It still made her feel physically sick to think of that. To think that Mr Milver was actually watching the second time she and Jean-Paul screwed. That place behind the sports pavilion. Mr Milver watching the French boy on top of her, his stiff prick gliding in and out.

She had known they shouldn’t do it there, it wasn’t safe and somebody could come by. But Anna had been too turned-on and swoony to say no.

And it was unlikely anyone else would go there. But… Mr Milver had. He had guessed and had followed them. And had watched. Yes it made her squirm to even think about it. But there was now the other thing to think about. To really make her squirm. Anna had to see Mr Milver tomorrow. Oh yes, she would be squirming then alright.

Mark was lying across her now. Keen to smooch, with his hand going down to squeeze her pussy bulge through her skirt. She slid her mouth away from his. She didn’t want it. None of it. Certainly not screwing. She hadn’t screwed Mark since Jean-Paul had left. That was almost a week ago now. She no longer had that intense feeling about the French boy — although probably she would if he were here. For one thing all she could really think about now was Mr Milver. Her appointment with him that was now almost here. Tomorrow!

He had made her wait almost a whole week since confronting her with his shocking knowledge. So the tension would build up in her mind. So she would be in a real state when he finally dealt with her.

‘No!’ Her voice quite sharp. ‘I… I’m really not in the mood Mark. Not now.’

Everyone knew what Mr Milver would do to a girl if he got the chance. It was common knowledge. He would cane her — or use a strap on her. It was a kind of joke if a girl had to go to see him. ‘He’ll have your knickers down!’ someone would say, or something like that. The girl in question would usually get all red and embarrassed — although one or two might manage to laugh it off. But it wasn’t a laughing matter if he had something on you. It wouldn’t be a joke then. Not if there was the prospect of him actually doing it.

Come on,’ Mark moaned. ‘We haven’t done anything for ages.’

Anna was well aware of that. The last time she had screwed Mark was fixed firmly in her head. It was the first week of the French school visit. She had barely noticed Jean-Paul then. But then Mark had to go off with his parents for a week, and in that week Anna had started secretly seeing Jean-Paul.

‘No Mark. I’m really not in the mood. I keep thinking I should be writing that essay.’

But Mark said worrying about the essay wouldn’t get it done. Forget about it — and start on it when she got home. And finally he did persuade her. The whole thing. Screwing. Well, for the moment it took her mind off tomorrow. Mr Milver…

----//----

‘Sit there,’ Mr Milver said in a cold, impersonal voice and pointing to the computer desk in the corner of his room. ‘I’ve got to go out for a moment but I’ll be right back. Do something useful in the meantime.’

So Anna had taken a book out of her bag and opened it — but was completely unable to concentrate, scarcely able even to see what was printed on the page. All she could really think of was her bottom. So skimpily clad it seemed — though she was wearing the regulation short pleated navy school skirt with regulation knickers underneath. Knickers that would shortly be coming down.

Into her mind came memories of when other girls had had to go and see Mr Milver. Boys (and sometimes girls) teasing the unfortunate about what was going to happen. ‘Is it true that he doesn’t actually take a girl’s knickers down when he canes her? They say what he does is yank them up really hard into the cleft of her bottom. So that the cheeks of her bum are quite bare for the caning. But she’s still got her knickers covering her pussy — so she doesn’t have to worry about showing that to old Milver.’

And then when the girl had had the chance to absorb the embarrassment of this, someone else would naturally say that wasn’t so, Mr Milver did take knickers down. He always did. Because for one thing he was a Dirty Old Man who was very keen to see a girl’s pussy.

Yes, Anna had been present more than once when this sort of discussion took place. She had indeed been on the receiving end of it herself more than once. Boys usually, with any girls present generally not wishing to join in — because it might tempt fate and you could be the next. But usually of course nothing was really going to happen. The girl might have to go and see Mr Milver but for something relatively innocuous. Work handed in late, that sort of thing. And he couldn’t cane you for that. So all you had to suffer was the embarrassment, without the fear that it was really going to happen.

But this time, for Anna, it was going to be different.

It didn’t take long for him to come back.

‘Right young lady. Have you done any useful reading — or have you simply been day-dreaming about that ardent French boy?’

‘I… uh…’ Anna couldn’t find any words.

Mr Milver came up behind her. ‘I suppose you’ve told Mark Bayford what you were up to in his absence? And your mother, I expect she knows all about it?’ Mr Milver’s two hands came heavily onto her shoulders.

Anna squeaked a miserable no. Shaking her head.

‘In any case of course it’s an expelling offence. Engaging in sexual intercourse during the school day. And on school premises.

Mr Milver’s two hands slid down the front of her cardigan, to grip Anna’s full tits. She gasped, with her own hands automatically going up to pull his hands away. But Mr Milver kept a firm grip.

‘Keep still! And put your hands down.’ With her heart thumping she did. Mr Milver gave her tits a squeeze. ‘That’s better. Because you heard what I said Anna? An expelling offence.’

She whimpered, ‘No…! No…’ The hands intimately squeezing her tits were making her head spin.

‘I haven’t actually informed the Headmaster yet. I’ve given you a week to think about it and I can if necessary see him tomorrow. The only alternative is that I deal with the matter myself. You would find that painful Miss. Because it would certainly involve the cane. Or a strapping. Nothing else would be nearly sufficient in a case like this. But… perhaps preferable to being expelled, eh?’

‘I… uh…’ Once again words wouldn’t come. Only tears this time. They rolled slowly down Anna’s cheeks as she made a sobbing sound.

With a final squeeze Mr Milver took his hands away, and told her to stand up.

She got shakily to her feet, to stand at the side of the desk.

‘Tears are no good now,’ Mr Milver said briskly. ‘You should have thought of the consequences before.’ His hand came up the backs of her thighs. ‘Shouldn’t you?’ The hand cupped one cheek of her tautly-knickered bottom.

‘You should have thought about it before letting that youth get his thing up. But I suppose the heady pleasure was too great. Mmm? The pleasure of that thing sliding in and out? And French boys are supposed to be especially good at it. Is that it? Better at it than your Mark presumably?’

‘Don’t…!’ she yelped. ‘D… D… Don’t, please…’

‘Please don’t tell me what I can say young lady.’ The hand pushed in between Anna’s thighs. ‘Do you want me to go to the Head? Or call your mother in to discuss your behaviour? I asked you if that French boy did it better than your dear Mark Bayford. Mmm? Maybe he had a bigger one, eh Anna?’

The hand was right in between her thighs now. Mr Milver’s fingertips lightly stroking through Anna’s tight knickers along the line of her pussy. This and what he was saying were making her feel queasy, a half-fainty feeling. She stuttered, ‘N… N… No…’

‘Just wanted a bit of variety then, was that it? A different stiff prick. And I suppose you’ve been boasting to the other girls that you’ve had one of the French boys?’

‘No…’ she yelped, half sobbing now.

‘Don’t start weeping again.’ Mr -Milver’s voice once more brisk as he took his hand away. ‘You should have thought of all this before. Well what’s it going to be? Do you want me to give you something?’

A desperate silence, punctuated by Anna’s sniffing sobs. No, she didn’t want it. But there was no choice. The answer finally came. ‘Y… Y… Yesss.’

He went to his desk and took something out of the drawer. It was a broad two-tongued leather strap. Mr Milver whacked it down on the desk top.

‘We’ll use this, shall we? It can deliver a fair old crack to a girl’s bottom. Bend yourself over the desk and flip that skirt up. Let me see what I’ve got to deal with.’

The strap, and not the cane! Anna had been mostly imagining the cane — but that didn’t mean the strap was an easier option. Oh no — as no doubt in a few minutes was going to be proved to her. No! She couldn’t take this. Couldn’t take that strap, or this ordeal. But… there was no way out. Mr Milver had her over a barrel.

Or over the computer desk certainly. Because Anna had no option but to bend herself over it. Lying her upper body down across the white plastic surface. Mr Milver’s hand was immediately there. Flipping her short skirt up over her back… and then yanking the black cotton knickers tight up into the cleft of Anna’s bottom. Tight also into the cleft of her pussy.

She gave a gasping yelp, because it was tight enough to be sharply painful to that sensitive flesh. Then another gasp as Mr Milner grabbed a handful of bottom-cheek now rendered bare. The thought flashed into her head that this was what certain boys always liked to discuss: whether Mr Milver left a girl with her knickers on or made her take them down. And whether he left them on but liked to pull them up into the cleft of her bottom. Which was what he had done. But her mind couldn’t dwell on that. The hand was now smacking her legs apart. And then, it was at her pussy again.

‘Hot here young lady. That’s your problem, isn’t it?’

One finger was firmly rubbing along her slit. Pushing the lips open. Anna involuntarily squirmed her hips. In spite of the dreadfulness of what was happening, it felt good. You couldn’t help it, it just did feel good to have fingers there. Even Mr Milver’s fingers.

‘And the cure for that complaint is to make you hot somewhere else. Somewhere quite adjacent, mmm?’ The hand left Anna’s pussy and delivered a sharp slap to the undersides of her bared bottom-cheeks.

‘Right then. Are you ready for it?’

No! She wasn’t! She let out a frantic yelp in anticipation. Her yelp just beat the strap, which with a pistol-like crack made savage contact with the full meat of both cheeks.

The anticipatory high-pitched yelp continued on into a deeper, full-throated appreciation of that mind-bending cut.

Anna’s bottom was on fire! Jerking and jumping like a stricken caged animal as it attempted to come to terms with what had been done to it. As it did, Mr Milver delivered with careful deliberation a second breath-stopping stroke to Anna’s churning rear.

‘Stop all that writhing about,’ he coolly told her. ‘I don’t want your bum jerking around like a jack-in-the-box. Keep it still — or I’ll have you up on the desk on your back. OK?’

Anna’s mind couldn’t immediately take that in. But whatever threat Mr Milver was making would be awful. To be avoided — if she possibly could. Her bottom was even hotter now — scorching! — after two, but she tried.

‘Aaaaiieeeehh…!!’ The horrendous strap cutting in again. It felt like it had cut her in two.

‘That’s a bit better.’

The strap came in again. This time lower, to the full fat of the undercurve. Anna yelled out again.

‘And try to be quieter too. Remember you’re a big girl Anna. Eighteen isn’t it? Quite big enough where boys with stiff organs are concerned. So let’s…’

The strap sliced in once more to Anna’s now glowing rear.

‘Let’s have some big-girl behaviour when you’re getting your bottom whipped.’

----//----

‘Well, how was that? Do you think you’ve had enough? Been properly dealt with?’

‘Yes!’ she gasped. ‘Y… Yes…! I h…ha…have.’

Mr Milver had stopped. After how many Anna didn’t know; all she knew was that her poor bottom felt like raw meat. It was red hot. It had been savage. The hot pain was pulsing through her. But if it was over…

Mr Milver’s hand had squeezed the back of one thigh close to the top. He still had her bent face-down over the desk. ‘I’m not so sure, Miss. Not sure at all. Probably in five minutes time you’ll be feeling as right as rain again. Alright, it’s stinging now a bit but you’ll soon forget it. And you’ll go out of here thinking: That wasn’t so bad. And no doubt, be flirting this saucy bum at the boys.’

The hand slid in between Anna’s legs. To her now wet pussy. ‘Plus I daresay thinking about boys’ cocks again. Yes?’

‘No…!’ she yelped, as the hand fondled her slick pussy. ‘No…! No I wo…’

‘Yes you will Anna. I know what girls with hot pussies are like.’ The hand had left her there. Anna felt both his hands up at the waistband of her knickers. ‘Yes you will young lady. So what we’re going to do…’

He was tugging her knickers down.

‘What I’m going to do is give you a few more. With your knickers properly down this time.’

----//----

Anna was due to see Mark later but there was no way she could, not after her session with Mr Milver. She called him with the curt message that she wasn’t feeling well, and put the phone down. Anna was simply in no physical or mental state for facing anybody. She told her mother she didn’t want any supper, then went up to her room. To lie on her bed and cry some more.

Trying not to think about it. Wanting to wipe it out of her mind. Mr Milver, and that strap. The second session of it with her knickers pulled down round her knees. That strap, and also Mr Milver’s fondling hand. Which right at the end, when he’d finally finished with the strap, got to work on her again. More persistent this time and she had responded. A helpless response. Her hips churning. Her pussy shamelessly working against his hand. Until she had come, and then as she climaxed bursting into tears.

Yes, trying not to think about it, but it was of course impossible. It was all indelibly engraved on her mind.

And there was the other thing too.

It wasn’t over.

Mr Milver was not going to be satisfied with that one session. He had told Anna he was going to need to see her again.

----//----

Perhaps she should have expected that. Because Mr Milver still had this knowledge which Anna could not let anyone else know. The session with Mr Milver’s strap, impossibly awful though it had been, had changed nothing. Mr Milver still knew. He could still inform her mother — or go to the Head. Therefore if he wanted to see her again. Anna had to agree.

And of course Mr Milver did.

The next time was two days later. It was at Mr Milver’s house this time. He said he was going to strap Anna again. She needed a second go with it. And really he should strap her a whole lot more. And use his cane as well. But… maybe he wouldn’t do all of that. Not to the full extent that it was certainly justified, and perhaps even necessary. No, maybe he wouldn’t. Not if Anna could show she had learnt the error of her ways. And she could do that, as far as Mr Milver was concerned, by being very helpful and cooperative. Did Anna know what he meant?

Did she? Anna wasn’t sure that she did. So Mr Milver explained. What he thought would show she was friendly and helpful, and contrite. And well, it was nothing really was it? Not to a girl who had been doing it with two boys. At least two. There could of course be more. As far as Mr Milver knew there could be a whole lot more besides.

Oh! No! There certainly weren’t any more! No! But Anna’s expostulations and denials, the vigorous shakings of her head, were directed as much at the other. At what Mr Milver was now clearly indicating he was interested in. What he wanted. No, he couldn’t want that!!

But Mr Milver did want it. The same as the French boy had had. The same as Mark got, when Anna was in the mood to let him have it. Mr Milver wanted some of the same. And he could not be refused. Whatever mood Anna was in.

He said they could have some coffee. And then there would be a little session of the strap. And after that they could go upstairs.