This is a continuing story about a man who, in his later years, bumps into his high school teacher, who winds up teaching his wife how he should be disciplined.
While this can probably be read standalone, it's probably best that you pick up the links to the previous stories and read them first – it will give you the more fleshed-out version of the story.
Cheers!
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Our lives had changed. Subtly in some respects, dramatically in others.
In company, and generally when we were alone, Jenny and I performed much like any other married couple, and much as we had for the last five or so years we had been together. Jenny is generally considered to be fairly conservative, which is backed up by her short stature and slim build, as well as the way in which she behaves around friends & family.
In private, though, she can change to become slightly more dominant, and significantly more intractable. She happily makes decisions, and when those decisions aren't followed there are generally consequences, which usually means my butt gets a tanning.
Dorothy Macmillan was a teacher of mine at High School some thirty years ago, and when we happened to move into the same street as her she and Jenny became close friends, and much of the change in Jenny has been from Mrs. Macmillan's influence.
My wife started spanking me when I "failed" to paint the patio one weekend - see the second installment of this series for the details.
Since then she has found a reason to punish me just about every week, such punishment always resulting in a very sore backside, an incredibly hard cock, a dripping wet excited wife, and some of the very best sex I've ever had.
Typically it would go like this.
Jenny would come and sweetly discuss with me how I had failed to do something that she believed I had said I would, or let me know that I had not been polite to someone, or some other punishable infraction of the "rules", largely unwritten but well versed inside her head.
I would go to the bedroom, remove all my clothes, and wait in the assigned position. Sometimes she wanted me on the bed, either on hands & knees or face down on the bed, sometimes facing into the corner of the room, once bent over her dressing table.
She'd come in, and remind me why I was going to be punished, that the punishment would be a spanking, and that I should be sorry I had done wrong, but happy that she cared enough about me to do this. Naturally I would apologise, sometimes pleading that the "crime" had not been serious enough to warrant a spanking.
Then she would spank me. It was never gentle, it was always thorough, and I remained in position as long as possible while it occurred. Sometimes she'd make me count the strokes, other times she'd demand complete silence. But always I'd be crying before she finished, and always I would have the biggest hard on ever.
And always after the punishment there was phenomenal, intensely physical, animalistic, lovemaking.
Dorothy Macmillan, my old school teacher, came and had coffee with Jenny quite regularly. She still had that heart stopping, hard-on inducing twinkle in her eye, but now there seemed to be an extra edge, after she had seen the rutting that occurred after my first spanking, which she administered
(see Ch. 1)
. It was never mentioned of course, and Jenny didn't know Dorothy had been watching our fucking, but it always seemed to hover there, just out of sight. Whenever Dorothy came over I was polite and attentive if I was in the room - normally I stayed as far out of her sight as possible. After all this time 'Mrs. Macmillan' still scared me and still had the ability to punish me, even if 'Dorothy' didn't.
The last time I had seen Dorothy was about a week earlier. There had been a block party on our street, and naturally enough I'd had a few beers (hell, it had been a hot afternoon!) with some of the other husbands from the street, which descended into some ... loud ... behaviour, discussing everything from politics to first girlfriends, and lots of other 'dumb guy shit' as Jenny would put it. Jenny had been away at a Hens weekend that weekend, and so had missed the party.
Now, the following Sunday afternoon, there she was in my kitchen drinking coffee with my wife, while I stayed in the lounge room quietly watching college football and generally keeping to myself.
"Mike, can you come in here please?" called Jenny from the kitchen.
I switched off the set and quickly moved through to the kitchen. Something was up. Dorothy was sitting there, not looking very happy, and Jenny had a firm set to her mouth.
"Dorothy and I have been talking about the party last weekend. Is there something that you'd like to tell me?". This was not in her 'I love you' voice, this was 'I'm going to spank you raw for some heinous crime' voice.
Shit.
I really wasn't aware of what she was talking about. I couldn't think of anything wrong that I'd done the previous week, and she'd spanked me the day before for some pointless infraction - a mild punishment more for pleasure than for discipline.
"Ah, no darling, I can't think of anything. Is there a problem Dorothy?"
She looked at me then, and I knew I was fucked. The gorgeous twinkle in those deep blue eyes, the slightly raised eyebrow, the pursed lips. "YOU can call me Mrs. Macmillan today, young Michael." (
Yup - I was definitely fucked. This wasn't Dorothy, it was Mrs. Macmillan, and she was using my full name
.) "I saw you carousing with the other louts from this street last Saturday. From what I could see you'd had more to drink than you should have, and you were happily sitting in Frank Tates front yard with the others, drinking and comparing previous conquests. Is this the sort of behaviour your wife would have approved of? In public?"
"Ah, no ma'am." I said, looking at my shoes. "I guess not."
"Well, what should we do about it Mike," said Jenny. "It seems you've embarrassed me in public now. I'm not sure how I should take that."
"I can give you some suggestions," said Mrs. Macmillan, her voice full of steel. "Look, I brought something over for you."
She went to the kitchen door, open it, and picked up something she had left outside. Turning, she had a piece of cane, about three feet long, flayed at the end, with a pink bow around the handle.
"Since you told me that you were getting a sore hand spanking Michael, I thought I'd get you something a little less tiring."
Jenny squealed with delight, and accepted the gift like a little girl being given a new dolly. I, on the other hand, was absolutely mortified that Jenny & Dorothy had been discussing my punishments. Mrs. Macmillan saw the look on my face and surmised my concerns.
"Yes Michael, Jenny tells me about every punishment that she gives you. We discuss it in great detail actually, including how you fuck her like a mindless animal with your hard cock after she warms up your butt. "
I was getting more and more dumbstruck by the second - I had never imagined my teacher say 'fuck' or 'cock' before, let alone talk about two people having hardcore sex!
