Mrs. Sweet and Headmistress Strict

“Hello class, my name is Mrs. Sweet, and I will be your substitute math teacher today. I know everyone will try really hard, and we’ll all learn a lot, and have a lot of fun.”

She beamed a bright, fake smile down at him. “Does everyone understand?”

He grinned back at her smile, scrunched awkwardly into the student desk, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes ma’am.”

Her eyebrow arched. “I certainly hope so, because as much as I would hate to do it, if you are disobedient I will send you to the next room to see the headmistress. I’m afraid she deals very harshly with such transgressions. Now, we shall proceed.”

He nodded, thinking he was starting to understand the rules of the game. “Yes, ma’am.”

Then he nodded again.

“Thank you. Now, we’ll start with something simple. What is the sum of 2 and 2?”


“Good. 5 and 3?”


“Excellent. 1 and 3?”


“Oh come now young man, no one likes a know-it-all. I am very sorry, but you must report to the headmistress, Mrs. Strict, and tell her you have been a show-off and a know-it-all. You will find her in the next room.”

He frowned, then nodded and then stood up from the chair. He started to walk from the kitchen to their home office, then jumped and hissed. She had caught up with him at the doorway and grabbed his ear, jerking his head down. He arched his neck, and could see that her eyes had gone flat. Her voice was colder and she pronounced every word carefully, all traces of the bubbly schoolteacher gone. “My, it’s very early in the day, and here you are already. What have you been doing to give your substitute teacher trouble?”

He gasped again as she twisted her hand and walked, dragging him along by his ear towards the office desk. “Ah, Headmistress Strict, I was a show-off and a know-it-all.”

She pushed his head down to the smooth, cool wood of the desk, and pulled his arm up behind his back. “Well, it sounds like you need some humility beaten into you. Trousers down, filthy boy.”

He fumbled awkwardly, unzipping, unbuttoning, and pushing his pants down, wiggling his hips until they dropped to his knees.

“Underwear down as well dullard, a proper spanking is always done on the bare skin.”
He groaned, but looped a finger into the elastic, pulling down one side and then the other until they fell and bunched around his knees.

She rubbed the paddle across his ass, savoring the way it pulled and distorted his flesh, enjoying the anticipation. The first swat splatted against his skin, and his body jerked. He braced his legs for the second, and she hit the other cheek, switching back and forth rapidly with hard, quick swats until his knees started to buckle.

Then she stopped, and tossed the paddle beside him on the desk. “Pull your pants up and return to your class.”

She walked out while he was fiddling with his pants, and smiled at him as he came into the other room and eased himself into the chair. His too large adult frame was forced to squeeze into the desk, and he felt a harsh exhalation force its way out of his lungs as the chair pressed against his ass.

She beamed at him, the rictus smile on her lips again. “I am sure Mrs. Strict is so very sorry to have to have done that, and hope we may continue the lesson without further interruption.” She continued without waiting for acknowledgement. “Now, please remind the class why you were sent to the headmistress?”

He winced and shimmied in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. His voice was a little lower, more passive. “For being a showoff and a know-it-all ma’am.”
She sighed and shook her head. “A perfectly correct answer, and one that shows you learned nothing. I’m afraid you’ve earned another trip to the headmistress.”
He closed his eyes and slowly slid out of his seat, shuffled back into the other room, automatically heading for the desk.

She stalked along beside him, enjoying the feeling of shifting from the tender caretaker to the cruel bitch. She smiled silently as he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them back to his ankles, then followed suit with his underwear. So exposed, so vulnerable, and the skin already turning pink. She shivered, and let the anticipation build a little more. “Back again so soon? What was it this time?”

His voice was hollow. “The same ma’am, being a show off and a know-it-all.”

“Well, we’ll just have to correct that again, won’t we?” Without waiting for a response the paddle thudded into his ass again. And again, and again. Until his breath was coming in huge gasps and his knees buckled with each swat, straightened, then buckled again. Until she could feel the heat radiating off his ass. Until he was almost about to break, and she couldn’t stand it any longer and stopped herself.

“Now go back to your class, and I hope you’ve learned your lesson. You needn’t bother pulling your pants back up, you’ve wasted enough of my time.”

He shuffled out, his mind spacy and peacefully empty, the endorphins telling him the pain in his ass wasn’t all that bad. She followed him into the next room, and spun him around before he could get to the desk, planting his face in her chest. She patted his head with exaggerated care, and rocked him back and forth. “Oh you poor thing! Look what that horrible woman did to you. Are you okay?”

He sighed at the warmth from her breasts, and wrapped his arms around her hips. “Yes ma’am, it hurt quite a bit, but I’m okay.”

She smiled as he held his face against her, enjoying the emotional roller coaster between her nurturing side and her sadistic side. She loved both of those feelings, being both of those completely different women. Sometimes they were at war, shouting to be heard over one another, but sometimes they worked together beautifully. She savored those moments when they worked hand in hand.

She pet his hair for a few more seconds, enjoying the closeness, and then whispered into his ear. “And can you tell me why you had to go to the headmistress’s office?”

He shook his head against her body, and offered a whisper. “No ma’am, I don’t know.”
He felt her back stiffen, and then her hand was on his cock, dragging him back to the other room. “So you still didn’t learn anything? I will beat some sense into you before this day is done.”

She threw him across the desk, his breath whooshing out as his stomach hit the edge. “Stay right there or I swear to God I will beat your brainless ass raw!” Her voice thundered in the small room and he nearly twitched out of reflex.

He pushed his body firmly against the wooden desk, bracing himself for whatever was going to come. His hips jerked forward when he felt the plug against his ass, and he groaned half in dread and half in lust-filled anticipation. He felt it pushing, forcing its way inside of his body, stretching and distorting his flesh. This wasn’t a teasing or even a fucking, this was a contest of wills that felt like it would split his body in half. He slapped his hand against the hard surface of the desk and moaned.

She planted the palm of her hand flat against the base and shoved, feeling her cunt twitch at the sensation of it breaking into his body and filling his ass. He groaned and tried to hold still, and she smirked a little as it sank into his body and pulled up tight against his skin. She leered down at his violated body and picked back up the paddle.

“Maybe that will help focus your attention.” She started to slap his ass again, the already worn flesh quickly pushing pain through his body. His hips jerked with each blow, and she could see tears streaming down the side of his face. She waited until he was clinging to the desk, using it to hold himself up, then stopped and dragged an arm across her sweaty brow. “Go back to your fucking class, and pray you don’t get sent back here.”

She let him have a second, and he took deep breaths before he swallowed hard and stood upright. He dragged his arm across his nose, then took small, mincing steps into the other room.

She walked around him, admiring him from all angles. “Oh dear. Look at you.”

She let him stand by his desk, and then walked over to lean against the wall. “Can you tell me why you were sent to the headmistress’s office?”

He nodded. “I think so ma’am. I was sent to the headmistress’s office because I didn’t say what you wanted me to say.”

She smiled, for real this time, and nodded. “Very good. When you’re here it’s not to tell me what you know, it’s to tell me what I want to hear. You don’t need original thoughts in your head. You don’t control that anymore, not when we’re in this room. Because if you don’t please Mrs. Sweet, then you have to go see Mrs. Strict. Do you understand?”

He licked his lips, thinking carefully. “Do you want me to understand ma’am?”

Her laughter burbled out of her mouth. “Good answer, but I’m going to get tired of having my questions answered with questions. So whenever I ask a question and you don’t know what I want you to say, I want you to degrade yourself for me. I want you to tell me what a filthy cock you have, or what a complete and utter idiot you are, or how you’re nothing but a disgusting piece of flesh fit only to clean my boots with your tongue. I want to know that I control every single utterance of every single thought that goes through your pretty head. Understand?”

“It’s tongue is only useful for licking your boots clean ma’am, and it apologizes for using it to speak.”

Her eyes narrowed and she nodded, rubbing one hand across her cunt with each word he spoke. “Yes… you seem to understand that I own every inch of your body and your mind.” She pulled a white cone with “DUNCE” written on it in large black letters from behind a chair, and waved a hand at him. “Take your clothes off, and get your cock hard. You’re going to wear this and fuck me, but do not come.”

They were naked in seconds, and he was hard in a few more. The dunce cap fit on his head with an elastic strap, and he had to hold it on with one hand. They fucked on the floor, him on his knees pulling her in close, slamming into her cunt. She gasped in pleasure and slapped her legs against his bruised ass, trying to hit the plug, driving him deeper and deeper inside of her. One hand pulled at her tits while the other massaged her clit, and she snarled at him until finally she came and flopped back hard against the floor.

“Whew.” She pushed herself up and stood, then used one foot to roll on him on his stomach. He stayed on the floor, whimpering. Mrs. Sweet had been sated with her orgasm, of teaching him how firm her control over him was and giving him some pleasure, if not release. Now Mrs. Strict wanted to come out and play again.

“Now, dunce, you have a homework assignment.” She pressed against his back with her foot, pinning him to the floor. “You’re going to crawl in to the headmistress’s office…”
She smiled at his whimper.

“And tell her you’ve learned your lesson. She’s going to lock that filthy cock of yours up, and fuck you with her strapon until you’re nothing but a hole. And do you know why?”
He tried to push himself further down into the floor, and turned his head so his answer would be clearer. “My filthy cock deserves to be locked up, and my ass is just a hole for her pleasure ma’am.”

She nodded, and reveled in the moment, that brief second when the two halves of her were both happy, because she knew he craved this control. She would dominate him, and half of her hungered to take and consume and destroy. But the other half wanted to wrap him up and keep him safe, where only she could get to him and nothing else could hurt him or make him sad. That beautiful moment of utterly controlling something you loved so much.

Of being unconditionally sweet and impossibly strict.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

So this is the last complete story I have. There are a couple of more floating around that were beginnings of things I planned to serialize, but they’re not complete. I’ll take a look and see if they’re work posting, but for now… That’s all she wrote.

6 thoughts on “Mrs. Sweet and Headmistress Strict”

  1. I’ve subscribed to your blog for a few months now and like everything I’ve read. This one is particularly compelling for me. Thank you for sharing your talent, creativity & skill with us anonymous wankers.

    1. Thank you, I think I wrote it for a general bdsm anthology, but I’m not sure. Either way, glad it got out there and people enjoyed it.

      1. Preaching to the kinky choir there, but they’re going to publish what sells. And what I write is pretty much a sub-genre of a sub-genre of a genre. And you’re welcome, thank you again for commenting. It’s nice to know people enjoy it.

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