Prank Day 1

Mrs. Angela Anders, 28 year-old biology teacher at Sommerfield High School was in a very nervous state. As an instructor in a relatively difficult subject, she was known throughout the school as a rigid disciplinarian, requiring strict attention and alertness from classes seemingly filled with students suffering en mass from attention deficit disorder. She was noted for her tendency to walk through the rows of desks, watching for unacceptable behavior, including talking, loafing, dozing....and any other behavior detracting from the learning process. In her hand she invariably carried an 8- inch long, one-inch in diameter, flexible rubber rod with a knob at one end. Any miscreant would find that rod snapping firmly against his or her head or hand, creating no injury except an immediate sharp pain and embarrassment. (It should be noted that the somewhat phallic shape of the rod led to many salacious speculations concerning other uses to which it might be applied!)

The cause of Mrs. Anders' nervousness was that today was "prank day," a day, corresponding to April Fool's Day, in which, traditionally, seniors could pull practical jokes on teachers, the administration, etc., without fear of retaliation. Needless to say, she had good reason to be concerned. Not only was she resented by the students for her method of disciplining, which was bad enough, but her senior class curriculum involved social relations and human biology, fertile grounds for juvenile humor. Last year, she was inundated by pictures of bimbos engaged in various forms of sexual gymnastics, all with her face "photo shopped" onto each luscious body! However, for some reason this year she seemed, except for minor tricks, to have avoided real trouble as several other teachers became the primary victims. The lunch hour, the time of most shenanigans, was almost over and she was safely back in her classroom without incident. Unfortunately, her relief at escaping more embarrassing pranks may have made her less wary. Thinking of her next class, she was standing and bending over her desk, when the door quietly opened and three students, two boys and a girl, crept in and came up behind her.

With absolutely no warning, she found herself pushed forward, her face and chest down on the desk, and held there. She was not a large woman and had no chance to pull free as she was held firmly in place. Her skirt, which happily for the attackers, was long and full, was pulled up over her head, muffling her cries of shock and rage. Her panties and pantyhose were grabbed at the waistband and pulled downwards together and jerked off over her feet (to be snatched up as a souvenir), exposing everything below her waist. The students didn't take time to admire the view, but her bottom was very pleasantly rounded, the crease between her hips making the two halves look like two neatly separated cushions. Below, her very prominent cunt lips protruded outward, thickly coated with a profuse growth of blond, curly hair.

Oddly enough, Mrs. Anders never even thought of rape, only of the exposure and humiliation of her position. She loudly demanded that she be released and cried for help, but one of the bragging points of their new school building was its sound-proofing and, even if her cries had not been muffled by her skirt, nothing would have been audible outside the room. That muffling effect worked both ways, for, while she could hear quiet, urgent conversation among her assailants, all she could discern was that they were both male and female, not their identity. Recognizing the futility of her calls for help, she stepped up her struggles and demands for release. She was ignored, of course, and, shortly found out the purpose of the "prank."

Without warning, she felt a sharp slap on her buttocks, followed by a barrage, each harder than the one before ...slap....stap..... slap....slap.... SLAP.....SLAP.....SLAP! With each slap, Mrs. Anders let out a scream of pain. "Stop that! Oww! Let me up!!!OWW!!" The blows continued, hitting indiscriminately on her hips, on the upper thighs, and, as she thrashed around, even directly on her cunt lips. She vaguely heard the spanker say, "Give me the paddle," and shortly the spanking hand was replaced by the "smack" of a ping pong paddle. Smack... smack... smack... smack... SMACK.., SMACK.... SMACK! This was agonizing and Mrs. Anders screeched in pain as the smacking continued, berating and demanding release alternating with those cries of agony.

However, the only relief she received was a brief cessation as one spanker replaced the other, one male for the other. The punishment began again with a fresh spanking hand, this one being more selective in aiming, deliberately choosing his target, seeing to it that all areas of her hips were uniformly red, with every fourth or fifth stroke hitting her cunt. Slap.... slap.... slap.... slap....SLAP.... SLAP..... SLAP! As before, the power in the slaps grew and grew, giving her no relief, no ability to get used to the level of pain. "OW.....OUCH.....LET ME UP.....STOP!' Her protests continued while tears of pain and shock, hidden under her skirt, streamed down her face. After an eternity (it seemed), another brief respite came as the third assailant prepared to take over. Before she did, however, the second male took advantage of the situation to thoroughly explore Mrs. Anders' cunt, even probing inward, as well as fingering her anal opening. This last indignity augmented her misery, causing even more thrashing and twisting, combined with moans of anguish.

The third spanker, the girl, was no more tender-handed than the boys, landing a fusillade of slaps, perhaps not as powerful, but hitting an ass that was already an angry red color, rapidly turning purple in spots. In some ways, her spanking as more damaging to Mrs. Anders' ability to prepare herself, for she used an irregular pattern of blows. Slap... slap....slap.... SLAP..... SLAP..... slap.... .slap.... slap.....SLAP.....SLAP! By this time, Mrs. Anders was reduced to sobbing pleas that they stop. All resistance was gone and she hardly needed to be held down. Her legs, which at first had been held firmly together, now hung open, exposing her entire cunt, an area which became the primary target for the last ten or so slaps. Like the last boy, the girl finished by feeling and penetrating her cunt, perhaps out of curiosity but adding tremendously to the anguish and humiliation as Mrs. Anders knew that a female was fondling her!

There was one final, even worse humiliation waiting however. The girl whispered, "Hurry, the class will be coming soon. Give me the stuff!" Mrs. Anders had no idea what the "stuff' was, of course, but she soon felt a cold wetness between her ass cheeks and, shockingly, a lubricated finger slid into her anus, moving in and out, sending waves of horror and, oddly, a hint of pleasure, through her. Then, the finger was pulled out and, abruptly, something harder, larger and longer was forced in, going deep into her. Suddenly the hands were removed from her and, before she could think to rise up, she heard the door slam and she was alone.

Not for long, however! As she straightened up, her skirt falling into place, a bell rang and the first students for the next class began to come in. The whole episode had taken less than ten minutes and had been precisely timed to leave her no chance to think or act before the afternoon session began. Gathering herself together, she grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes and, with her back to the door, used a mirror as she repaired the ravages caused by her tears. Finally, as she turned to the class, settling into their seats, she looked reasonably normal -- slightly puffy around the eyes, her hair uncharacteristically disarranged, her clothes a bit rumpled and her legs bare, but nothing a class of 9th graders would notice. Even less visible but of far greater importance was her psychological state: mentally she was still in a state of shock, really unable to completely absorb what had occurred in the last twenty minutes. Physically, her bottom was aflame, pain radiating even when it was not touched. Her cunt felt swollen if her legs were held tightly together. The students couldn't see that, of course, but they might have noticed that she never sat down during the entire class and they certainly did notice that she wasn't carrying her punishment rod as she walked through the aisles between the seats. Only she knew that under her modest skirt she wore no panties, no pantyhose -- and that the 8-inch rod was firmly planted in her ass, held there only by the tightness of her sphincter muscle.

She was finally able to extract it two periods later in the teacher's lounge, but the rod was never seen in school again. Her bottom burned for hours and was tender to touch for several days. Afterwards classes, she had to pretend happiness and relief not to have been the victim of any significant pranks and to commiserate with colleagues who had. She even had to laugh with the others on various amusing stunts perpetrated by seniors. Thinking how embarrassing it would be to face those colleagues if they knew what had happened preyed on her mind, keeping her from even considering reporting the attack. However, the most difficult thing was to endure for the rest of the school year was the continual humiliation of facing her senior class, wondering which students had spanked, fondled and penetrated her -- and who knew about it!

Perversely, while the rod disappeared from school, her students would have been fascinated to learn that it was now being used for exactly those salacious purposes they had speculated on before! At least something for her to enjoy came out of Prank Day!