getting detention in nudes 2

"You're in no position to tell me what I can do Emma, and it will be your word against mine if you report it. The marks will have faded before you get home. Now get those wet things off before I give you a real caning."

The tearful youngster was too frightened to reply. She was sure that if she said anything at all, he would hit her again. Hot salt tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned her back on her teacher and removed her bra. She dropped it to the floor and struggled to peel off her wet panties with one hand while she clutched the towel around her with the other.

Her teacher picked up the flimsy garments in silence and sat down at his desk. To Emma 's surprise, he ignored her but instead studied the flimsy damp scraps of material in his hand. She waited silently, expecting him to hang her underwear with the rest of her clothes but he appeared to be absorbed in his thoughts. It was as if he had forgotten she was in the room.

The tension was unbearable - half of her hoped that he would continue to ignore her but the other half wanted the ordeal to be over as quickly as possible. Too embarrassed to speak, she coughed nervously. He looked up and stared at her as if he was surprised...to find a near naked girl in the room.

"Yes? What is it?"

She pointed to her underwear.

"My things - aren't you going to hang them up to dry . . . sir?"

He looked down at his hand

"Ah yes, sit down then Emma."

He indicated an old armchair opposite his desk and, still struggling to preserve her modesty, Emma sank into it. The sagging springs gave no support to her weight and she slumped into an almost horizontal position that allowed her teacher to see to the top of her legs and beyond.

She hastily crossed her legs and frowned in bewilderment. He'd said that he wasn't interested in her body but his gaze was focused intently between her bare thighs. She noticed that he was still holding her panties and bra, turning them in his hand and manipulating them between his fingers. He seemed especially interested in her small bra, and momentarily put a couple of fingers into the cup and gently poked where her nipples recently had resided.

Her legs still smarted but the pain was fading away and a warm pulse was spreading through her thighs.

The bizarre situation was more frightening and confusing because it was so unexpected. She had always liked her English teacher - in fact, like most of the girls in her year, she'd fantasized about him. Her fantasies had never included pain and humiliation. They had mostly been romantic situations based on what she'd read in magazines. This was real and she was no longer sure that she even liked her teacher. She had always been a good student and had thought that Mr. Johnson liked her, but now everything seemed to have turned upside down. He'd beaten her and forced her to undress. Now she was alone and naked in his office and he was in complete control of her fate. She chided herself for letting her imagination get the better of her.

So he'd hit her. Plenty of pupils got caned didn't they? Not many of them sat in their teacher's study without their clothes on though. To be fair, it wasn't his fault that she'd gotten wet. Maybe he really was thinking of her welfare when he insisted that she strip totally. Of course there was no more to it than that. He was her teacher and, even if he was quite good looking, he was almost old enough to be her father. As if he would be interested in a sixteen-year-old girl who had next to no experience with boys let alone men.

She fretted nervously as her teacher continued to stare silently at her semi-naked legs. It was becoming more difficult to convince herself that he had no interest in her body. He shifted his gaze to where the inadequate towel barely covered her firm breasts and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you Emma, but you must see that I can't allow a student to defy me."

"Yes, sir," she said sullenly.

"I don't expect you to like me much at the moment, but I'm as upset as you are about it."

Emma doubted that,, but decided to say nothing. Her thighs were still throbbing with . . . what?. . . It wasn't pain now. It was a pulsing warm glow that made her think about Mike her boyfriend for some reason.

"If you're wondering why I kept you behind Emma, it's because your work has been slipping, and I want to know why."

"There's no reason, Sir. I didn't realize that I was behind."

The teacher got up and paced slowly around her chair.

"Is something worrying you? Boyfriend troubles perhaps?"

"I haven't got time to think about boys. My step-father says there's plenty of time for that after my exams."

"And what do you say?"

"I suppose he's right. My school work should come first."

"That's true but all work and no play sounds unhealthy to me. You're sixteen now aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

“Most girls of your age think about boys and sex all the time and I doubt whether you're any different . . . especially if you haven't got a boyfriend. No wonder your work is slipping."

"I don't think about it at all," she lied and hoped that he couldn't see her flush as she said it.

"What? When there's a dozen boys from St. Marks hanging about by the school gates every afternoon. Are you expecting me to believe that you can walk past those boys and not even think about sex for a moment?"

"It's embarrassing walking past them, sir. They call out after us and say the most obscene things."

He smiled understandingly, "I know, I have to chase them away most days. A few of them are quite persistent almost like dogs waiting for a bitch in heat."

Emma blushed to roots of her blonde hair this time. Despite the crudity of her teacher's words, she knew exactly what a bitch in heat felt like. The boy’s remarks were crude and obscene and she always pretended to ignore them but she couldn't ignore the thrill of excitement that their words ignited in her. She'd seen her teacher talking to the boys, Mike among them, and threatening to see their headmaster if they came back. His threats never stopped the hard core of the dedicated studs - ones like Mike.

"It's quite natural to think about sex at your age you know. You're an attractive young girl Emma - haven't you ever been out with a boy?"

Emma blushed at the direct question and fidgeted uneasily under her teacher's gaze. He was definitely staring at her breasts, and she was very conscious that her nipples were still hard from the cold rain. She was sure that he could see them jut out through the towel. Why was he so interested in her sex life, or lack of it, anyway? It was true, she certainly did think about boys a lot, and her lack of practical experience didn't stop her from thinking and wondering about sex - especially after her recent date with Mike. She wasn't about to admit that to her teacher though.

"I'm not really interested in boys, sir."

The teacher continued to circle her chair and Emma was forced to swivel back and forth to keep him in sight. The movement of her body made it difficult to keep the towel in position and it constantly slipped, exposing teasing glimpses of her naked torso.

He shook his head in disbelief, "Don't you like boys Emma?"

"Of course I do. I mean yes, sir. At least I suppose I do, but they don't seem to like me much."

"Why not? You've got a bright personality and you're certainly pretty enough."

Emma flushed self-consciously. She wasn't used to personal compliments from older men, especially teachers, and she wasn't sure what she should say. She decided to ignore the compliment.

but, will ignore it stop her teacher asking these weird questions?

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