Wrongful Detention

I'm currently eighteen and in sixth form. I'm not saying I'm always an angel at school (or outside it) but if I get caught bending the rules (Only bending. I'm far too nice a guy to actually break them.) I'll cop it sweet. Sometimes, not often, I'll get nailed for something I didn't do, lumped in with a group, sort of thing. In those cases I just console myself with the thought of things that I didn't get caught for.

But what really got up my nose was being targeted for something by a student teacher and given detention, even though she knew damn well I wasn't the culprit. I argued my case and she just said, "Too bad. I've assigned a detention and that's final."

Miss Anders was, I think, only nineteen herself. Certainly not more than twenty. She was flexing her legal muscles, delighted to be able to order around students that were only slightly younger than herself. It was a matter of prestige to her that she could slap a punishment on someone and they had to take it, and she was not going to admit that she was wrong, even though we both knew she was.

The thing was, an accidental injustice I could wear. A deliberate and malicious injustice I could not and would not. I went and discussed the matter with Mr Jacques, my form teacher, explaining why the whole thing was wrong, demonstrating that Miss Anders knew it was wrong but was too full of herself to admit it. (I didn't express it quite like that, but I got the message across.)

Mr Jacques conceded that I was correct but said that he couldn't actually cancel a detention given by another teacher. Bad for school discipline generally. I would, he said, have to turn up for the detention, but he'd have a word with Miss Anders. As soon as I turned up she'd mark me as having attended and then release me, detention officially served at the cost of five minutes of my time. I conceded he had a point regarding the school discipline and resigned myself to wasting five minutes of my precious time. Almost worth it to see Miss Anders chewing on her fingernails for having to let me go early.

I turned up at the detention room like a good lad and took a seat. By an odd chance I was the only attendee. I sat and waited for Miss Anders to come along, tick me off, and let me go.

She didn't come, did she? Time dragged slowly and I was stuck there waiting, getting madder by the minute. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. I didn't have the any doubt whatsoever that she was doing this deliberately. She had given me a detention and I was going to have to take it, no matter what anyone else ruled. I think she was a little power mad. Ever notice how a little authority goes to some people's head and they can't help but abuse it?

I could hear the chattering of students and teachers dying away. The few cars that were in the car park drove off, and I was still stuck, waiting.

The standard detention is only half an hour and it was past that when Miss Anders finally turned up.

She came trotting in, all smug smiles.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," she said airily. "I see detention time is up anyway so you might as well just go along now."

Strictly speaking she was doing as instructed by Mr Jacques, releasing me as soon as she checked me in. The fact that she'd deliberately waited until a standard detention was served was neither here nor there. This way she had what she considered a win/win. She went along with what Mr Jacques requested and she got me to serve an unearned detention.

I got out of my seat and moved towards the door, stopping once I was between her and the door. I turned and looked at her.

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you," I said affably. "A power mad little bitch, thinking you can whistle and we'll all come to heel like dogs."

"I beg your pardon," she snapped, sounding all proud and haughty.

"Not granted," I replied. "You knew damn well I didn't deserve that detention and that you were supposed to release me at the start of the period. You were deliberately late so you could flex your authority. You just wanted a patsy and elected me. A mistake, you'll find."

"How dare you," she said, totally shocked. "You can't speak to me that way. I'm a teacher. One more word and you'll find yourself with another detention."

"I don't think so," I said quietly. "There's no-one here to see you flexing your authority. There's no-one around, come to think of it, to help you assert it, so this conversation is just between you and me. Teacher, you say? The way you act I'll be very surprised if you ever graduate as a teacher. They tend to weed out egotists with a little Hitler complex."

She was flushed and furious and at a loss for words. Her mouth opened and closed but she didn't say anything.

"Cat got your tongue, bitch?" I asked, smirking.

"I'll be reporting this conversation," she snapped, rallying. "You'll find yourself in detention every day for the rest of the year. Or maybe," she added, smiling hopefully, "you'll be subject to some corporal punishment. They still have that here, don't they?"

"You know," I said, moving towards her, "you're right. I'm so glad you brought that to my attention. I do believe that some could be applied right now. Um, you do know that as class president I have the authority to deal it if I consider it necessary?"

I deliberately let my eyes run over her, taking in the short skirt she wore, finally letting my eyes linger on her chest, smiling all the while. I don't know what she saw in my smile but it certainly seemed to unnerve her.

"Just what do you mean by that crack?" she asked. "Any authority you have is just over the younger students."

"In theory," I admitted, "but it doesn't actually say that. Besides, you're a student teacher after all, and that puts you in the category of a student, depending on how you look at it."

I was edging closer and Miss Anders was looking nervous and backing away, but not very far away as the teacher's table was behind her. She came to an abrupt halt and I moved even closer.

Standing quite close to her I held up my hand and looked at it, and then looked at her.

"What do you say to six of the best?" I asked. "Then I'll consider us square."

"You wouldn't dare," she half whispered, but the look on her face said that she thought that I would.

"I'll make a deal," I said softly. You drop your panties and bend over for six of the best and that will be that. If I have to make you bend over my knee it will be a dozen. And yes, the dozen would be on your bare bottom."

She stared at me, chewing on her lip, trying to decide if I was serious or not, already sure that I was. Still smiling I reached down and lifted the hem of her short skirt, raising her skirt until it was bunched around her waist.

"Make your choice," I told her, lightly snapping the waist band of her pantyhose. "In a minute or two I'll take these down myself and you won't have that choice."

Her nerve broke. Face red, she reached down, hooked hold of her pantyhose and panties and pushed them down, turning to bend over the table as she did so.

Did I spank her pretty little bottom? I did not. I stroked it lightly, dropping my hand lower to cup her mound and squeezed it.

"What are you doing," came the gasped query.

"What you're expecting me to do," I said calmly. "We both know you could have screamed, or pushed me aside and run. You know damn well that there was no way I could chase a teacher through the halls, and as for wrestling with you on the floor of the classroom, forget it. You dropped your panties because you wanted to, and it wasn't a spank you expected."

I ignored her sputtered denials, rubbing her pussy, my fingers already working to part her lips and lightly touch her more sensitive inner lips. It's amazing the magic that a male touch will work on a woman's mound. I could already feel it getting warmer, and could almost feel it swelling as it flushed a deeper colour. Her lips started to purse, her inner lips swelling and pushing out.

I touched all the appropriate places while Miss Anders squirmed and made feeble little protests. She also stayed bent over, legs parted, while I played.

I unzipped and I was ready. I started rubbing my erection against her mound, running it up and down her slit, pressing it lightly against where her inner lips were now showing.

"Don't you dare," came the desperate protest. "I'm a teacher. You can't do this to me."

I pressed the head of my erection firmly against her inner lips. Not trying to push past, just letting her know it was in position to enter her.

"Listen, bitch," I said cruelly. "I hear no screams. I see no signs of any struggle. All I see is you bent over of your own free will, offering me your pussy. But I'm not going to push my cock into you."

"You're not?" came the stunned reply.

"No. It's in the right position. I'm going to let you push back against it and take it in. Now start pushing."

"You're joking, right?"

"No. I'm waiting. Let's get a move on."

I waited a moment longer and then she gave a small groan. With that she pushed back against me, her lips moving apart and sliding over me. That was enough. I was in.

"Well done," I murmured. "Now it's my turn."

I leaned up against her, pressing slowly but steadily in, not stopping until my groin smacked hard up against her ass. I had slain the dragon; now I just had to make sure she didn't rise again. My, ah, sword, was nicely positioned to do that.

I fully realised that I didn't have that much time available to me. Someone might come looking for Miss Anders or, more somewhat probable, one of my friends might come to see what was keeping me. On top of that the cleaners would undoubtedly be making their rounds shortly. It seemed to me that a short, brisk, workout was what was required.

I started pumping Miss Anders, moving hard and fast. I was delighted to find her responding in a similar manner, pushing back hard to meet me, giving a small grunt each time she did so. She was tight and slippery and a great deal of fun.

Hands firmly holding her hips I drove into her, letting her feel my dominance. For all her legal authority as a teacher, in her current position I was the master and she the student. Although I will admit, from the way she responded that this wasn't her first lesson and she had a good grounding in the skills required.

I was mildly amused to observe that she was keeping one hand jammed against her mouth. There was no way she was going to risk screaming and possibly alerting someone as to what was going on. Her muffled gasps and grunts continued as I took her, working on what was already a surprisingly high level of arousal.

In an amazingly short period Miss Anders seemed ready to climax. She'd slumped forward against the table, elbows supporting her, with both hands now jammed against her mouth. Even with that I could hear a shrill keening leaking out and escaping past her fingers.

As far as I was concerned, if Miss Anders was ready to go then I was ready to let her. Hey, I'm eighteen. I'm ready to go at the drop of a hat and quite prepared to drop the hat myself. The initial thrust of my cock into Miss Anders pussy had almost been enough to make me climax, so I was ready if she was.

I leaned over her.

"Ready, set, go," I murmured in her ear. I was young and healthy and raring to go. At nineteen (or possibly twenty) she was also young and healthy and, from the way she reacted every time my cock came knocking, she was also raring to go.

On the word go I simply came crashing into her, harder than any of my previous efforts, and I was pulling back and returning almost before she could react. A couple more strokes like that and I was thankful for her muffling hands as I could quite clearly hear what would be a rather loud scream if her hands weren't there. A couple more strokes and I didn't give a damn if she screamed her head off as I was too busy squirting her to care.

I shuddered to a halt, leaning against her. She was just slumped on the table, head buried in her hands. I slowly disengaged and straightened my clothing. Then I waited while Miss Anders got herself together. As soon as I thought she would comprehend what was happening I spoke up.

"Ah, I can explain, Mr Jacques," I said loudly.

Miss Anders gave an appalled shriek and frantically stood up, brushing her skirt back into place and spinning around to face me, face bright red. Seeing me alone and smiling the colour faded from her face, though it remained flushed.

"You unspeakable little turd," she said softly. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Be grateful that's all I gave you," I murmured, while she glared at me indignantly, trying to straighten up her panties and pantyhose. "Um, if my detention is over then I'd better be on my way. Just remember, you owe me one."

"What? What the hell do I owe you? You just damn well fucked me."

"True, but I didn't spank you," I said, trying out an evil smile. "You agreed to get one when you dropped your panties. Seeing you didn't get it I'll keep it in reserve for the next time you piss me off."

"What the hell do you call what happened if that wasn't my 'punishment'?" she asked, sarcasm oozing.

"A bonus," I said, walking towards the door. "Be a good little teacher and I'll see about arranging another one for you."

I walked out, preventing her from having the last word. Any day a woman doesn't get the last word is a good day.