A dream many of us have, but where will it lead?
By Douglas Ramsey
Sally Maitland looked up to see her economics master, David Boyd, smiling at her. “Oh, Sir, you startled me”.
“Sorry,” Mr Boyd said laughingly, “What a lovely day and the end of term too. On your own?”
“Yes, can’t believe that this is my last day.” Sally looked wistful, “I thought I’d enjoy the school grounds one last time, they are so lovely in the summer.”
“They certainly are; the groundsmen do a fabulous job. May I sit with you for a while?”
“Of course, Sir.”
Apart from teaching economics, Mr Boyd was Deputy Head which, at the age of just thirty, was an extraordinary achievement. In its 400 year history, St Bede’s Ladies’ College had never appointed someone so young to such an exulted position. St Bede’s was a prestigious school just south of London, renown for academic success with many of its students going on to the best universities in the UK and overseas.
Sally adored Mr Boyd; he was by far her favourite teacher. Apart from being good looking at thirty, he really wasn’t that much older than her. Sadly, he was a widower. About three years before, a sudden and mysterious illness had tragically taken his lovely young wife from him. Mr Boyd was heartbroken but the whole school too had felt the loss and grieved with him. It had been so sad.
“Congratulations on getting into the London School of Economics.” Mr Boyd looked genuinely pleased. He went on: “Do you plan to stay in London or maybe commute?”
“I haven’t decided yet, Sir’”
“Boyfriends to think about?” Mr Boyd enquired cheekily.
“No boyfriend, Sir. That’s work in progress.” Sally blushed.
“And after university?” Mr Boyd asked.
“I want to see how far I can go academically, then I’ll decide. If I’m good enough maybe I could work with The World Bank.”
“Sally, it’s all up to you. You can go all the way. A doctorate is yours for the taking – probably just because of my teaching!”
“Yes, Sir, I am sure it is.” Sally laughed.
Mr Boyd looked at Sally with pride. St Bede’s produced excellent students, but in Sally’s case also a beautiful human being, beautiful in every conceivable way. He realised that he was no longer looking at a schoolgirl but at a beautiful, highly intelligent, confident and kind young lady. She came from a well-off family and probably could have anything she wanted. But she had very simple tastes and seemed genuinely thankful for everything she had. God she was pretty, Mr Boyd thought, not tall at about 165 cm, beautifully proportioned and oozing with health and vitality. Her long blonde hair tied back in a pony tail… stop it, he said to himself, she was still your pupil. Anyway, he hoped that humankind was ready for Sally Maitland as she was something very special.
“Actually Sir, I was planning to pop in to see you later today before I leave.”
“Why was that?’
“First to thank you for all you have done for me, especially for encouraging me to stay on here for an extra year. Somehow, I feel ready now, I am looking forward to university and I feel that I can do well. I wasn’t ready last year and I think you could see that too.”
Mr Boyd nodded agreement, then Sally went on. “And second to ask for your help, because you have caused me a big problem.”
“What?” Mr Boyd exaggerated his surprise. “What on earth have I done?”
“Do you remember caning me three years ago when I was sixteen?”
“Yes, of course. I was very sorry to have to do that. I was going through a rough time”
“Not at all Sir, I deserved it. The caning put me back on track and you did it because you cared about my future. Ever since I have done well,” Sally hesitated, then went on. “But soon afterwards I started to fantasise, now I am consumed by it, it has developed a life of its own. I can’t get it out of my mind, I must do something about it, or my future academic work will suffer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I want to be caned again.” Sally’s delivery was so matter of fact. “I want you to punish me again.”
“What?” Mr Boyd sounded and looked shocked. “Sally, I can’t do that. No way.”
“Why not Sir? I leave school today and I’m nineteen on Monday. We could meet next week and it would have nothing to do with the school. Please help, I really need you to do it.”
My Boyd coughed and looked away then said: “I will think about it. Pop in just before you go home and I will let you know.”
“Thank you Sir.”
* * * * *
Later that day, Sally knocked on My Boyd’s office door and entered.
“Hi Sally, I thought it would be you.”
“Sir, have you come to a decision?”
“I have, and I will help you, but I can’t just cane you. There has to be a reason.”
Nervous excitement surged through Sally’s body. “Thank you Sir. I will take care of everything.” Sally passed My Boyd a neatly handwritten note, thanked him again and left his office.
Mr Boyd fumbled as he unfolded the note. It invited him to her home at 6 pm the following Thursday. It contained her address, directions and a phone number. Apparently her parents would be away for weeks and her father’s large study would be a very suitable venue for the punishment to take place. He smiled as he read the next line; it asked him to bring a suitable cane as her parents neither used nor approved of corporal punishment.
* * * * *
Just before 6 pm the following Thursday, David Boyd turned into the driveway of Sally’s home. It was a large Victorian house surrounded by extensive grounds; he couldn’t guess what it might be worth. With no other house in sight, Mr Boyd felt sure that no-one would hear or see Sally being caned.
Sally was at the front door to meet him. Her face was a picture of expectation and nervousness, neither of which was surprising given that she was expecting her bottom to be thrashed within minutes.
“Thank you for coming Sir.” Sally’s voice sounded calm. “Does that package contain what I think?”
Mr Boyd smiled. “Yes, I brought two canes just in case one breaks.” Sally did not smile.
“Please come in Sir.” She led the way through a grand entrance hall into a room to the left. ”This is Daddy’s office. He generally works from home when he’s not away on business. He and Mummy are in Asia for a few weeks.”
Straight in front of David was a large bay window with expansive views of impeccably manicured gardens. To the left an elaborate fireplace fronted by a couple of Chesterfield sofas; to the right a large oak desk in front of which were two, probably original, Carver chairs. Around the room was an array of bookcases, paintings and sculptures. It was some study.
“You have a beautiful home, Sally.”
“Thank you, Sir. Daddy does very well. On the desk you will find a small package, but if you will excuse me I’ll go and change. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
David sat in the comfortable chair behind the desk. First he picked up his package, then laid two canes across the front of the desk so that Sally would see them as soon as she entered the room. One was about three feet long with a crooked handle, it was fairly light and was the cane normally used at St Bede’s. The second cane was a longer, straight and noticeably heavier one, apparently kept for the most serious of offences and generally applied to the miscreant’s bare bottom. As David had only caned two girls, one of whom was Sally, he had little experience of choice of cane or deciding an appropriate punishment.
He opened the small package Sally had left for him. His jaw dropped. It was his wallet! He had lost it last Friday, the day that Sally had come to his office. The past few days had been a nightmare cancelling and replacing credit cards, bank cards, health cards and his driving licence. It had cost him considerable time, money and caused untold aggravation. He felt cross.
There was a knock on the door and Sally entered. She approached the desk with her eyes drawn to the canes; a look of fear crossed her face. She was wearing a white blouse with a navy blue, knee length skirt. Her blonde hair was in a pony tail and she looked amazing.
“Did you take my wallet from my study last Friday?” Mr Boyd sounded and looked angry. “I have wasted hours this week cancelling credit cards. Apart from that it has cost me money. What do you have to say for yourself?” He was almost shouting now.
“Sir? Yes, I did. I, I’m sorry.” Sally tried to stay calm but realised that she had gone too far.
“I caned you 3 years ago. What was that for?”
“I borrowed a pen.”
“You borrowed a pen, then refused to give it back. That was stealing and that was why I caned you. What punishment did I give you?”
“Three strokes across my skirt, Sir.”
“That was clearly nowhere near enough. I am going to cane you twelve times on your bare bottom. Do you have anything else to say?”
Sally gasped. Twelve strokes on the bare; she had expected three maybe six on her bare bottom but not twelve. However, she had no choice but to accept it.
“I am sorry, Sir, it will not happen again.”
“Good. I am not a cruel man so I will use the lighter cane,” Mr Boyd still sounded angry. “Take off your skirt and panties, fold them neatly over there then come back to the desk.”
Sally was embarrassed as she walked towards him bare from the waist down. She was afraid, excited and goodness she was becoming aroused. She hoped that he would not notice.
Mr Boyd moved the Carver chairs to one side. “Put your elbows on the desk and bend over. Head right down, legs slightly apart and stick your bottom out as much as you can.”
Sally did exactly as she was told and when in position she realised that her behind was perfectly positioned for a caning. She waited.
Mr Boyd picked up the crooked handle cane, flexed it and swished it through the air a couple of times. Sally could hear swishes but dared not look around, she was too scared. Mr Boyd took position to her left, placed the cane across the middle of her bottom then took a full back swing checking that he was not about to break some priceless work of art. He drew back the cane then stopped staring at this lovely girl and her semi-nakedness. She was at his mercy, she looked so vulnerable. What on earth was he doing? He wanted to protect her, care for her, not thrash her. It was just her fantasy, she wanted an experience. But he had promised her.
Sally sensing the delay turned towards him with enquiring eyes, but said nothing.
David Boyd quickly made a decision to cane her, but he could not be cruel, he would give her twelve firm but not vicious strokes. She would still feel them.
“Yes, Sir.” She turned her head away; there was no way she could watch.
Thwack. Sally heard the cane hit her bottom well before searing pain shot through her body. She made no sound but goodness it stung and there were still eleven whacks to go. She wasn’t sure that she could take it.
Thwack. She groaned slightly as the second hit her in almost the same place.
Thwack. Mr Boyd could see that stroke really hurt her, but she made no noise.
Thwack. She was losing count of the strokes, but now the stinging pain in her bottom was constant and in a way each extra stroke made little difference. Her bottom was on fire and hurt terribly. She was confused by other sensations building in her body. Somehow she was enjoying this.
After about seven strokes she realised that Mr Boyd was not putting his full effort into the caning. She didn’t feel cheated as the pain was more than enough as it was. God, could he see how aroused she was, she thought she might orgasm.
At last Mr Boyd said: “Three more Sally.”
Thwack, thwack. Those two came very quickly and she gasped.
Thwack. The last stroke caught the top of her thighs and she squealed at the sharp pain.
“That’s it Sally, you took your caning very well, you may get up.”
Sally did not move. “Sir, in the bar fridge by Daddy’s desk you will find some cream. Please could you rub some into my bottom to ease the pain?”
David, felt uncomfortable massaging the cold cream into her behind but he did as he was asked. He resisted any temptation to explore her womanhood. The cold sensation soothed her hot bottom but she too strove not to make any evocative movement that would encourage him to feel her although that was what she craved.
When David had finished Sally stood. “Sir, if I may I’ll go and change. You’ll find a drinks cabinet over there, the ice in the ice bucket is fresh. I won’t be long.”
David fixed himself a large Scotch on the rocks and relaxed confused by his experience. He had to admit to himself that he had enjoyed seeing her naked bottom and, yes, he had enjoyed caning her, but he was pleased that he had not used full force.
Soon the door opened and in came Sally. She had changed into a loose fitting, pale blue frock which suited her complexion wonderfully. She had taken out her pony tail and her blond hair hung loosely well past her shoulders. She wore no make-up, she didn’t need to, but she did wear a huge smile which lit up the room, she looked simply perfect.
“Sally, I just caned you, you shouldn’t look so beautiful, you shouldn’t be smiling. You should look distressed, uncomfortable, angry.”
“Sir, thank you for not beating me too hard, but it was hard enough. I assure you that my bum is very red and very sore.” She went on. “Sir, I have made moussaka and a green salad for supper, please join me. A bottle of Petit Chablis is chilled; if you prefer I have decanted a lovely Claret. We can have both of course,” she added with a chuckle.
“You have thought of everything.”
“I hope so, Sir, after all this evening has been three years in the making! I also made sure that I have plenty of eggs. I make great omelettes for breakfast.”
“Sally, maybe you should start calling me David.”
* * * * *
Not that many years later David Boyd, Headmaster of St Bede’s Ladies’ College, wandered in to his favourite Italian restaurant. The head waiter, Roberto, met him at the door. “Ah Mr Boyd, welcome. Your wife is over there in the corner.”
His wife waved to attract his attention, his heart missed a beat when he saw her, it always did. Her smile melted his heart as he neared the table, they hugged and kissed.
“Good evening Dr. Boyd,” he said. Sally had just attained her economics doctorate and was to take up a research position with the World Bank in its London office.
For a few minutes they exchanged the day’s news then David, a little guardedly, asked: “Sally, I have been wondering, do you remember the evening that I came to your parent’s house?”
“Would that be the evening that you whacked my naked bum twelve times, robbed me of my virginity then had your wicked way with me almost not stop for 24 hours?”
David was taken aback by her outburst but then saw her face was filled with laughter and mischief.
“That’s the one, but I don’t remember you complaining.”
“I certainly did complain,” Sally said indignantly. “Every time you stopped making love to me!”
“That would be right; nothing much has changed has it?” They both laughed enjoying the exchange. “Anyway, something has always puzzled me.”
“And that is?”
“You asked me there to cane you.”
“Want to do it again?”
“I couldn’t darling, I love you too much.”
“I would promise you hours of wild sex afterwards.”
“We have that anyway.” David laughed, then feigning crossness he went on. “Sally, I want to ask a serious question.”
“Sorry sweetheart, what is it?”
“I have always been worried that I hurt you too much and that was why you never asked to be caned again.”
“It certainly hurt, I was excited, sexually aroused and challenged by the caning but, darling David, you don’t really get it do you?”
“Get what?” David felt, and probably looked, bemused.
“The caning was just a part of my fantasy, it was an exciting, erotic and painful part but nonetheless just a part. I needed to get your attention and it worked. Now I live my fantasy every single day.”
David looked even more puzzled.
“After the caning, the next part of my fantasy was that one day you would learn to love me in the same way that I loved you. Then we would marry, build a life together and be happy.”
David all but cried. “Do you mean that you sort of planned all this?”
“Planned? Well, maybe, but certainly I dreamt of this life. Any problem?”
Tears were in David’s eyes. “There were many dark days when I thought I would never be happy again, never feel love again. Now I love you so much, Sally, it hurts. You saved me.”
Sally leant forward and took his hands. She smiled gently, her eyes stared into his filled with love. “Darling David, I have just come from the doctor’s. We are going to have a baby.”
That was too much. David sobbed, tears of joy flooded down his face. Composing himself he asked: “Part of the fantasy too?”