Mrs Macmillan Ch 05

Mrs. Macmillan led me into the kitchen, pushing me back towards to the big kitchen table I'd been spanked over earlier.

"Now, Michael." she said. "Let's talk about your inability to take direction. I told you, quite clearly, to stay in the lounge and not to come to the bedroom, yet when I opened the door there you were. Explain yourself."

"I heard Jen scream a little while after you were spanking her, and I wanted to make sure that she was ok."

"Why wouldn't she be? No - don't answer that. I can see that we're going to have to go back to basics with you too." A resigned note had entered Mrs. Macmillan's voice.

'Me too' - what did she mean by 'me too'?

"Turn around Michael - lets get this over with."

I knew exactly what she wanted. I turned around and draped my naked body over the edge of the kitchen table, my butt stuck out. The table was high enough that only the balls of my feet and my toes were on the ground.

"You need to learn to do as you're told, Michael, and to remember the commands that are given to you." was all she said before her hand went into action.

I'd already been caned and spanked less than an hour ago by Mrs. Macmillan and my wife, so the effect was immediate - by the third strike I was shedding tears and only a few later I could barely keep still. However it didn't seem to affect my cock that way, as once again it started to rise to the occasion, which was in itself a bit of a miracle, considering I had blown all over my wife's face not that long ago!

Mrs. Macmillan probably laid about ten smacks onto my already seriously abused arse. It took me a second to realise that she'd finished, and that I was still lying there - all up only a few seconds had passed since I bent over and submitted to the punishment.

"Turn around Michael."

I turned around, leaning back against the table with my hands between my butt and the table edge. My cock, while not fully erect, was poking out at a fair angle.

"I wasn't too hard on you Michael, because you were concerned for Jennifer's welfare, however for the future you must understand that she will always be 'safe' with me, and I will not let her come to any permanent harm. You believe me, don't you Michael?"

"Of course Mrs. Macmillan, I'm sorry, but I've never heard her scream like that and I was worried."

"Naturally you were. You are supposed to be like that, but from now on you know that if she screams and she's with ME she's okay."

"Now, what shall we do about this?" she said, sitting in the chair next to me and taking a hold of my cock, which merely twitched in pleasure.

"I don't know, Mrs. Macmillan"

"How about you show me how you play with it Michael - show me what you do when Jennifer is not around."

I just looked at her blankly, not fully comprehending what she wanted me to do.

"What do you do Michael? Watch pornography? Play with her underwear? Do you have a toy? "

"For what?" I really wasn't tuning on this one!

"When you masturbate Michael! What do you use when you masturbate?"

"Um ... Just my hand, normally. Sometimes a little of Jenny's hand cream."

"Show me."

"What ... Now?"

"Yes Michael, now."

"But I already came - I wouldn't jerk off after I came!"

"Well you will today. Or would you rather I cane you some more?"

That was all it took - I grabbed my hard-on and started giving it long, slow strokes. Somehow having Mrs. Macmillan sitting eye-to-eye with my dick as I pumped it was really erotic, so I turned slightly so that I was pumping directly at her face. She looked up at me with a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

I must have been pumping for a bit, but I wasn't getting even close to blowing again so soon. In the past I'd jerked off before Jenn and I fucked to make me last longer in the sack, so I couldn't figure how climaxing was going to happen anytime soon. Mrs. Macmillan was clearly getting a little exasperated by the time it was taking.

First she cupped my balls while I was wanking, weighing them and rubbing them gently. While that managed to keep me super hard, it did nothing to bring on another orgasm.

Then she got up, went across to the stove and came back with a bottle of olive oil we use for cooking.

"Mmm ... 'Extra Virgin'. I doubt it, in this house" she said with a smirk and a smile, and started dribbling a little oil over my cock so that I slicked up nice & quick while I was pumping.

I was pumping faster now, that elusive bubbling at the base of my groin slowly making itself felt, letting me know that the climax was building. But it was still too slow for Mrs. Macmillan, who HAD to have noticed that I was pumping harder and faster, with my eyes closed.

I felt a little pressure on the small of my back - she wanted me standing and not leaning against the table so I complied, taking a step away from the table so I wouldn't move back against it accidentally.

Suddenly I felt a slick presence between my arse cheeks, and clenched automatically, only to receive a mighty smack that de-clenched me quite effectively. Then an oily, bony digit was knuckle deep in my rectum. My pace slowed somewhat as I tried to work out what the fuck was going on.

"Don't stop, boy". It was a short, sharp, directive. I kept jerking.

Mrs. Macmillan started jiggling and moving her finger about in my arse, and the bubbling prepared to become a torrent - Mrs. Macmillan had found my prostate and was milking it for all it was worth.

I tried to warn her that I was going to blow again, but too late, and I came, my arse clenching around her finger, and a reasonable amount of cum spewing out of my cock.

Once I finished, she removed her finger and went over to the sink to clean her hands. I couldn't meet her eyes - my teacher had had her finger in my butt, and things weren't ever going to be the same.

"Oh dear, Michael" she exclaimed, "Look at what you've done".

I looked, and saw that some of my cum had landed on the hem of her long skirt.

I just looked at her, waiting to be told to bend over, or something similar.

"No matter," she said, "so long as you are more careful next time."

(Part of me was glad that there would be a next time, while part of me was embarrassed beyond belief.)

"Now, you must be tired. Why don't you go lie next to your wife for a while and have a little sleep. But under no circumstances are you to interfere with her. Not at all, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Macmillan. I understand. No interfering".

""Good. I'll be back later then."

With that she simply got up, pushed her chair back under the table, looked around the kitchen as if to ensure it was all neat, and left through the back door like nothing had happened.

I went through the bedroom to our bathroom to have a look at my wounds. My face was red and puffy from crying, and while there were bright red with streaks and welts across it, my backside wasn't as bad as I feared it might have been.

Back in the bedroom Jenny was fast asleep, her bum still partly raised, the large black rubber dildo still protruding from her back passage.

Gently I pulled it free of her, which she both moaned and whimpered while I did, then pulled covers up to keep her warn. Then I climbed into bed and lay beside her, my mind spinning with the events of the last hour or so, and wondering what could possibly happen next.

To Be Continued...