The phone rang three times before it was answered. “Bournemouth 448981.”
“Hello Mrs. Temple. It’s Charles Leyton here. How are you?” Charles realised as he heard himself speak that his voice sounded strained and oddly high pitched. A brief pause ensued, as if the receiver of the call was collecting her thoughts.
“Charles dear, how nice to hear from you. How are you getting on at college?” Mrs. Temple’s deep contralto was warm. Charles began to feel slightly more at ease.
“Fine, thank you. That is, well, not exactly.”
“How do you mean Charles? There’s nothing wrong I hope.”
“Not really Mrs. Temple. Not in that sense. I mean I’m not in any trouble or anything.” Charles paused. He could feel his heart beating and his mouth was suddenly very dry.
“Charles, is anything the matter?”
“Well, the reason I’m ringing you is that it’s to do with my…my problem. The one that you helped me with last year. I’m afraid it has come back.”
“Ah. I see,” said Mrs. Temple. Charles waited expectantly. “In that case perhaps you had better come to see me. Would that be possible?”
“Yes. Yes, Mrs. Temple. I’m coming back next weekend so I could see you then. I was thinking if you were free on Friday afternoon. Only if it were convenient though.”
Charles heard a rustling of paper at the other end of the telephone as Mrs. Temple consulted her diary. “I could set aside two hours to see you at 3.00pm Charles. Would that suit you?”
“Oh yes, that would be wonderful Mrs. Temple.”
“Three it is then. Goodbye Charles.”
“Goodbye Mrs. Temple. And thank you.”
The dark door opened almost immediately.
“It’s good to see that you have not lost the courtesy of punctuality Charles. Come in. You remember that my study is on the left.”
Mrs. Helen Temple had been Charles’ governess for almost seven years. Her regime had been strict, some might say excessively so, and Charles had spent a considerable time across Mrs. Temple’s knee feeling the smart of her gloved hand and the sting of her punishment strap.
Charles had always been in thrall to his Governess and although no longer a callow youth, still trembled slightly in her presence. Mrs. Temple was impeccably attired in a tight fitting black leather pencil skirt and bolero jacket, a high necked red latex blouse, seamed black nylons and her trademark five inch black patent stiletto heels. She was wearing heavy make-up: thick red lipstick, foundation, eyeliner and mascara. Dangling from her ears and complementing her steely grey hair was a pair of silver, hooped earrings.
As Charles entered the study Helen reached across and took a file from her desk. Charles could not help noticing that Mrs. Temple was wearing a pair of soft black leather gloves.
“Charles Leyton,” began Helen, opening the file. “Yes, I last saw you eighteen months ago about your problem.” She smiled. “I thought I may have cured you but it seems not. Is that correct?”
“I’m afraid so Madam”, replied Charles, tentatively. “It’s, well, I have found it difficult to….”
“To what Charles?”
“To control things Madam.” Charles looked pleadingly towards the older woman and then, his face redder than ever, cast his eyes down in shame.
“Indeed Charles. Well, we shall have to see about that won’t we?” Mrs. Temple paused and looked severely at the young man opposite. “To say I am disappointed in you would be an understatement. It seems that we have a great deal more work to do.” Mrs. Temple allowed her words to take effect, gratified to see that Charles had at least had the grace to blush. “Shall we begin? Remove your clothing young man and fold your things neatly on the sofa.”
Charles undressed completely and placed his clothes as instructed. Mrs. Temple noted with interest that he had grown a little and that his slim, still boyish body was still nicely tanned from a recent holiday.
“Stand upright boy. Hands by your sides,” ordered Helen, curtly.
Mrs. Temple removed her jacket and came towards him. Charles noticed that her tight, red latex blouse was sleeveless and her leather gloves full length, reached almost to her shoulders. As Charles knew well, these were Mrs. Temple’s famous “spanking gloves”; black, beautiful and shiny, made from the finest glacé kid and responsible for turning many a bottom, including his own, from pure white to deepest crimson.
Mrs. Temple moved closer to him. In her stiletto heels she was three or four inches taller. As her face came near his own Charles inhaled the mix of expensive perfume, leather, rubber and cigarette smoke familiar from his education. Although 55 years old, Mrs. Temple was still devastatingly attractive. Her high cheekbones and full lips were accentuated by heavy make up, her bust and legs strained against tight latex and leather.
Mrs. Temple slowly reached out a leather gloved hand and cupped Charles’ balls in her palm, looking down at him. The young man’s penis swelled and stiffened at the touch of her gloves. Such a joy to play with a responsive boy, thought Helen.
“My we are a naughty little boy, aren’t we?” Her voice was deep and full of amused menace. Charles felt his penis become even harder in his Governess’ palm. “Such a naughty boy.” Mrs. Temple ran a gloved finger along the hard shaft. The youth could feel her varnished nails through the leather, toying with his glans. “And what do naughty boys require Charles?”
“P-P-Punishment Madam.” Charles stuttered, his mouth dry with arousal
“Yes, that’s right. Naughty boys require punishment don’t they?” continued Mrs. Temple. “Punishment and discipline. Strict discipline is the only way to teach a certain kind of boy isn’t it? A boy who does not do what he is told. A boy who is disobedient. A boy who cannot control his stiff little penis.” Mrs. Temple squeezed his cock to emphasise her words. “I think a good spanking is required Charles. In fact I’m sure of it. I think you need to spend some more time across Madam’s leather skirt learning how to behave. Don’t you Charles?” As she spoke Mrs. Temple continued to play with Charles’ erect cock and balls, revelling in her complete dominion over him.
“Y-Y-Yes Madam. I think I need a good spanking.”
“Yes you do Master Leyton. So it’s just as well I’m wearing my spanking gloves isn’t it young man? It has obviously been too long since your bottom received a warming and you have forgotten what I taught you.”
For Charles the ecstasy induced by the touch of the soft black leather on his cock was almost unbearable. Now his Governess moved her fingers to his nipples, both already rock hard. The feel of her leather gloved fingers on his nipples was electric, sending shivers of pleasure through his cock. Mrs.Temple moved even closer to him as she spoke, brushing her latex covered breasts against his chest. Charles looked at Helen’s thick red lips, intoxicated by the sweet smell of her make-up and perfume. He glanced at the swelling of his Governess’ full breasts, her own erect nipples pushing against the shiny latex, and then bowed his head once more.
“You need to be taught obedience don’t you Charles? You need to be put across Madam’s knee and spanked until you learn how to behave properly.”
“Yes Madam. Yes I do need a spanking Madam.” Charles was almost weeping with his arousal. “Please spank me Madam. Please spank me, I beg you.”
Mrs. Temple lifted her fingers from Charles’ engorged nipples and smiled. “Ask properly for your spanking boy.”
Charles immediately fell to his knees and pressed his eager lips to the shiny black leather of Mrs. Temple’s stiletto heeled shoes. He covered her exquisite shoes with hundreds of tiny kisses as he professed submission to his Governess. He then raised himself from his devotions and, his large blue eyes looking into hers, begged her for his punishment.
“Please Madam. Please put me across your leather skirt and spank me. I am a weak and disobedient boy and need your discipline.”
Mrs. Temple paused for a moment, savouring once again the experience of seeing a virile young man kissing her shoes and pleading to be disciplined. Towering above Charles in her stiletto heels she looked down and smiled. What a pleasant afternoon it was going to be.
“Very well boy. I see that you have learned at least one lesson. You have understood that with appropriate guidance it is possible for a boy to learn to be obedient. And we both know what sort of guidance is required, don’t we Charles? Yes indeed we do. There is only one way to teach a boy like you how to behave. Only one method is effective, isn’t it child? The only reliable way to get through to that rather dense brain of yours is to warm your bottom, isn’t it boy?”
“Place a condom on your penis and then put on your spanking pouch. I do not want your fluids to soil my skirt.” After they reached a certain age Mrs. Temple insisted that all of her charges wore a condom and spanking pouch for over the knee discipline. The combination of a rubber and the soft leather cache-sexe, ensured a boy’s penis and testicles were encased and his emissions contained, while his buttocks remained nicely exposed for punishment.
Leaving Charles on his knees Mrs. Temple moved across to her upright chair, smoothed her leather skirt beneath her and sat down. She admired herself in the large mirror opposite, primping her tightly coiffed hair and adjusting her red latex blouse, ensuring that she was comfortable for the spanking. She felt her own nipples through the rubber of her blouse. Mrs. Temple then spent a few moments smoothing her gorgeous black leather “spanking gloves” up her arms. As she did so she smiled, recalling the most enjoyable shopping trip in Paris when she acquired them. Three thousand five hundred francs from Maison Hortense if she was not mistaken paid for by one of her former pupils, and worth every centime. The gloves felt wonderful and soft on her arms and so, so sexy.
Charles was by no means the only boy who finds it necessary to return to Helen Temple for “further tuition”. At least sixteen of her previous charges paid regular visits to their old Governess. And all, without exception, returned to place themselves across her knee. Charles had always been one of her favourites. Blond, clear skinned and slightly built, he was both naturally submissive and a very appreciative boy.
Helen looked across at Charles. He was still kneeling, his face red with shame but his penis stiff and thrusting against the confines of the tight, leather pouch. She smiled.
“Come here Charles. It’s time for your spanking.”
Charles rose and stood before his Governess. Helen pointed to the floor and Charles knelt carefully before her.
“Kiss my high heels.” Charles obeyed instantly.
“Kiss my skirt.” Again obedience without hesitation.
“Kiss my glove.” Charles pressed his lips to the soft leather instrument of his correction.
“Now. Come here boy and bend over my knee.” Charles gently lowered himself across Helen’s leather skirt, allowing himself to be positioned to his Governess’ satisfaction. The shiny black material was warm against the skin of his stomach and he could feel Helen’s garter clips through the leather. Helen pressed Charles down so that his buttocks were nicely poised at spanking height. She could feel the hardness of the boy’s penis against her thigh. Once he was positioned, Helen began to stroke the soft, white skin of Charles’ bottom cheeks with her gloved hand. Charles feasted his eyes on his Governess’ shiny black five inch stiletto heels, wickedly elegant court shoes that never failed to arouse deep sexual longing within him. Charles sighed and felt his whole body stiffen in anticipation of the pleasure and pain to come.
“I am now going to spank you Charles.” The voice from above was authoritative with a hint of cruelty. “You are a very, very naughty boy. You have played with your penis when I expressly forbade you to do so. I am afraid when you disobey Madam you have to be punished and punished very severely. Do you understand boy?”
“Yes Madam.” Came the meek response.
“I am wearing my spanking gloves and you are going to receive half an hour across my knee. At the end of that period you will apologise to me for your disobedience and thank me for your discipline. Is that clear?”
“Good. If you wish to cry during your spanking you may do so. But do not squirm or fidget while I am spanking you. If you do I shall give you extra punishment.”
“No Madam, I shall try not to move.”
“Very well child. You may look in the mirror while I punish you.”
Charles turned his head to look in the large mirror opposite. In it he could see his Governess, her shiny red lips creased in a cruel smile, luxuriating in the pleasure to come. Charles noticed Helen’s nipples, high, hard and erect against the tight red latex of her blouse. He felt one hand on the back of his head and through it the sense of submission to absolute power, exercised with elegance. He looked at his own pale body draped compliantly across his Governess’ leather skirt, completely at her mercy.
Helen took a few minutes to admire herself. What other woman of 55, she thought, could keep a 21 year old man fully erect for two hours and have him obey her every command? Wearing high heels, leather and latex she felt completely and wonderfully dominant
Charles sensed rather than saw Helen’s leather palm fall to administer the first spank. He heard the sharp crack of leather on his skin and, a split second later, felt the wave of pain through his bottom. He managed to resist making either a movement or uttering a sound. Helen began to spank with a steady rhythm. Again and again her leather gloved hand fell on Charles’ unprotected buttocks. Slowly the milk white flesh of the young man’s bottom turned first pink then a deeper and then even deeper shade of red. Finally, after ten minutes of spanking, Mrs. Temple elicited the required response from her charge. A muffled sob came from the contrite young man across her knee and the first tear began to make its way down his cheek.
For those who have never experienced a proper spanking the punishment may seem rather mild. So it is compared to the cane or strap. However, when administered by an experienced disciplinarian a prolonged spanking is very, very painful. After ten minutes across her leather skirt Mrs. Temple’s beautiful spanking gloves had transformed Charles’ buttocks into twin globes of pure pain. The merest touch of her palm was now sufficient to cause him intense discomfort.
But, while Charles might be crying from the pain, Mrs. Temple knew that this was not the only response she had encouraged. The young man’s penis in its pouch remained hard against her thigh confirming that her pupil was in the perfect state to learn from his discipline.
Helen rested her gloved hand against one red bottom cheek. Charles flinched and let out a tiny gasp of pain. Helen’s stockinged feet squirmed with pleasure in her high heels. Now the real instruction could begin. She flexed her gloved hands like a concert pianist about to begin a virtuoso performance and once again admired herself in the mirror opposite.
“Now young man, I hope that this time you are going to learn your lesson properly. You know very well that if there is one thing that Madam will not tolerate, it is disobedience. And you, Master Leyton, have been extremely disobedient, haven’t you?”
“Yes Madam. I’m very sorry Madam.”
“What did I expressly forbid you to do boy?”
“You told me not to play with myself Madam.”
“And what did you do?”
“I played with myself Madam.”
“Precisely. You played with yourself. You played with your penis didn’t you? Like the naughty, disobedient boy you are. And that is why Madam has had to put on her spanking gloves and high heeled shoes and put you across her leather skirt for yet another spanking. Isn’t it boy?”
“Isn’t it boy?” SPANK!
“Do you understand?!”
“Yes Madam.” This very meekly between sobs.
“I said, do you understand?!” SPANK! SPANK!
“Yes Madam. I do understand. I will learn my lesson this time. Please Madam I will be obedient.”
“I do hope so Master Leyton.” The stern voice is heavy with authority. “I do hope so. Because if you persist in your disobedience I shall continue to spank you until you learn. I do not mind how long it takes or how sore your bottom becomes. I shall spank you until you obey. Do I make myself clear boy?”
“Perfectly Madam. I am so sorry for being naughty.”
Helen felt Charles’ erection stiff against her thigh a she spoke. The boy was very aroused now, as was she. Helen’s hard nipples rubbed against the latex of her blouse sending shivers of pleasure through her body.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
The rhythmic spanking began again. This time Charles’ bottom was already aflame with pain. Each crisp crack of Madam’s black leather spanking gloves on his bottom sent a wave of excruciating agony through him but ended in a surge of sexual pleasure. Charles could feel the leather pouch enclosing his erection was slick with pre-cum. He looked down lovingly once more at his Governess’ elegant stiletto heels as her gloved hand continued to do its work.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
As Helen’s glove fell she could feel the young man’s penis begin to spasm in time with her spanking. She was about to enjoy spanking young Charles to orgasm.
“Look at my high heels as you climax boy!” As if he needed to be told.
SPANK! mmmmm SPANK! mmmmmmmm SPANK! nnnnggggghhhhhh
Charles’ cock pulsated as huge spurts of semen flooded from him. Waves of pleasure coursed through his penis, untempered by his extremely painful bottom. For Charles no orgasm was as powerful or as fulfilling as those he enjoyed across Mrs. Temple’s knee.
“You may thank me for your discipline.” Helen’s voice was icy cold.
Charles gently removed himself from the older woman’s lap.
“Kiss my high heels.” Charles complied willingly. This time Helen allowed him several minutes of devotion at the altar of her stilettos. She noticed with amusement that his bottom was very, very red.
“Kiss my skirt.” Again instant obedience.
“Kiss my glove.” This time Charles kissed the instrument of his correction with genuine reverence. He inhaled the sweet smell of the shiny black leather glove, the palm still warm from his spanking.
He then bowed his head. “Thank you for my discipline Madam. I promise to be obedient.”
There was a short pause. Helen smiled. Having enjoyed a wonderful spanking she was wet with pleasure and arousal. It was time for young Master Charles to show his gratitude with more than words.
“Follow me boy. I hope you have not worn out your lips and tongue with your devotion to my high heels.”
And they departed for Madam’s bedroom.