Thursday, 14 April 2016

Thursday, April 14, 2016 - ,

The Strict Schoolmistress: Book Three

schoolboy tales of yesteryear
by Arthur James
Published: Mar 4, 2016
Words: 24,892
Category: femdom, nostalgia
Orientation: F/m
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The Tyrant of the Classroom
featuring Miss Docherty

The bell for the beginning of the first class of the morning had just moments before rung. The children all stood up as Miss Docherty walked into the classroom. Chairs scraped against the floor, desk lids squeaked as they were hurriedly shut. It was the last day of the summer term, but the children knew the rules would not be relaxed. It would just be like any other day.

"Good morning, Miss Docherty," they chorused.

"Good morning, children," she replied. "You may sit down."

It was like this every morning. Her eyes travelled along the rows of children, looking for absentees or those improperly dressed. She was a stickler for punctuality and correct school uniform. If there was one thing she couldn't abide it was untidiness. Like most young teachers it amused her to be stern. When called upon she could very stern indeed. She called out the register, the girls she called by their first names, the boys by their surnames. "Adsum," each child replied, some in a confident manner, some so quietly she had to strain her ears to hear. Once she had finished filling the register in her neat handwriting, she placed it carefully on her desk. Tidiness was almost an obsession with her.

"I need a volunteer to help me on Saturday morning," she announced. All the little girls immediately had their hands up, some of them almost bursting with eagerness. In contrast, most of the boys showed no enthusiasm for spending a Saturday morning at school. Along the back row she noticed not a single boy had raised his hand. She stood up from her chair and slowly walked down the central aisle of the classroom, desks in perfect rows on either side of her. The only sound that could be heard was the scrape of her sensible shoes against the bare wooden floorboards. She folded her arms and stopped in front of a desk in the back row.

Steven looked up, blushing under her steady gaze. She rarely had any problems with discipline. Occasionally, a child might answer her back but it would never happen twice. Having said that, she much preferred mischievous boys. Those who tried her patience she would make an example of and punish in front of the other children by putting them across her lap and smacking their bottoms. It wasn't a particularly harsh punishment, but it certainly put the boy concerned firmly in his place. There was a strong rumour that for more serious misdemeanours she kept a cane, although no one had actually ever seen it. Every now and then she would threaten a boy with six of the best and enjoy observing his face as it turned pale at the thought of such a punishment.

Maybe she wasn't the prettiest of women or the most charming but she was attractive in some indefinable way.