Roger Benson, “Luscious Lovelies Learn Their Lessons” Chapter 9: Teacher Tamed and Tanned!

Luscious Lovelies Learn Their Lessons by Roger Benson, 1962

With selected drawings by Miss Fran

Edited by Mrs. Angie Heart

Published by Bared Affair Publications

Chapter 9: Teacher Tamed and Tanned! 

In the last chapter, Mrs. Evelyn Goddard had had a distinguished ladies’ luncheon rudely interrupted by the unwelcome civics ideas of Lorna Jane Welworthy. To be truthful, it wasn’t the nineteen-year-old’s ideas that were in fact unwelcome, but those of her junior college civics instructress, Miss Amy Knowell, whom Lorna Jane was merely quoting. Nonetheless, the girl’s intemperate interruption was answered with a very sound spanking and a most cleansing enema! 

Lorna Jane was required to hand deliver her letter of abject apology to Henrietta Throckmorton, a friend of Mrs. Goddard whom she had offended. Next day, the good woman telephoned Mrs. Goddard to say how much she had appreciated the missive. “It would appear, Evelyn, dear, that you certainly got to the bottom of the matter,” Mrs. Throckmorton chuckled. 

“Yes, Henrietta, young Lorna Jane will be more careful in the future about how she uses that pretty mouth of hers. But it seems we still have some unfinished business,” the stately woman observed. Was it not true that Mrs. Throckmorton knew Imogene Standfast, the Chairman of the Maydith College Board of Governors? Indeed it was. 

“I suggest, Henrietta, dear,” Evelyn Goddard’s tone of voice was purposeful, “that you and I pay her a visit and let her know what that junior civics instructress is up to. I refer, of course, to Miss Amy Knowell.” 

“An inspired idea, Evelyn, dear. Inspired!” Mrs. Throckmorton could barely conceal her enthusiasm. Junior instructress Knowell’s fate was well on the way to being sealed!

Privilege and Authority 

The meeting took place on the idyllic Maydith College campus in the richly paneled and spacious office Mrs. Standfast used for college-related matters. The gray-haired 57-year-old woman welcomed her visitors warmly, ushering them to comfortable, chintz-upholstered chairs grouped around an impressive marble fireplace. 

Despite her impeccable grooming and manners, there was no mistaking the fact that Mrs. Standfast was a person very much at home with privilege and authority. Apart from her own important position, her husband—J. Harding Standfast—was President of the First State and National Bank. She listened with care as Mrs. Goddard and Mrs. Throckmorton carefully recounted what had transpired with Lorna Jane and Miss Amy Knowell’s role in the matter. 

“I am indebted to you, ladies,” Mrs. Standfast responded, “for so kindly taking the time to visit me and provide this full and most informative report. First, Mrs. Goddard, I must applaud the disciplinary action you took with young Lorna Jane. Unquestioning respect and courtesy are traits we seek to instill in our young ladies here and it is obvious that Miss Lorna Jane was sadly deficient on this occasion. Thanks to your sound actions, I doubt she will repeat the shortcoming.”

“I must also state that I am deeply distressed to learn that one of our junior instructresses has put such silly and inappropriate ideas into the minds of impressionable girls by departing from the prescribed text and offering up her wholly inappropriate opinions. I shall immediately strike a tribunal of certain senior Maydith College officials to consider the matter in detail and decide on appropriate measures in respect of Miss Knowell. You may be assured that I shall keep you fully informed.” 

A few days later, Mrs. Standfast’s secretary contacted Evelyn Goddard and Henrietta Throckmorton and invited them to attend an afternoon meeting in the office of the Chairman of the Maydith College Board of Governors. This time, Mrs. Standfast was joined by Miss Ellie McFarlane, Dean of Girls at Maydith College—an imposing woman committed to the highest pedagogical standards and strict discipline! 

Mrs. Standfast wasted no time explaining to Mrs. Goddard and Mrs. Throckmorton what had been decided in respect of Miss Knowell and invited the ladies to witness the proceedings—an invitation they were only too delighted to accept! 

Mrs. Standfast then seated herself behind her large and impressive desk and clicked her intercom: “Clara, arrange to have Miss Knowell brought in. At once, if you please.” Her voice positively vibrated with righteous authority. 

Two minutes later, a crisp knock sounded on Mrs. Standfast’s door. “Come!” the imperious woman responded in a commanding tone. 

A very frightened-looking Amy Knowell was ushered in, her arm firmly gripped by the powerfully built Miss Helen Hardy, Maydith’s Senior Physical Education Instructress. In her form fitting skirt and sweater set, sheer tan nylons and spike-heeled pumps in dark brown calfskin, the bespectacled and distressed Miss Knowell looked more like a hapless college girl than a 25-year-old junior faculty member. 

The girl ended up in front of Mrs. Standfast’s desk, flanked on either side by Ms. McFarlane and Miss Hardy. Mrs. Standfast’s steely gaze caused the girl to bow her head, her sweetly-formed lips trembling. 

“Junior Instructress Knowell,” Mrs. Standfast’s coldly authoritative voice brooked no debate, “I will come directly to the point. This tribunal has heard uncontestable evidence that in the Civics course you teach in this esteemed institution, you have deliberately deviated from the prescribed text, to wit: Principles of Civics by H. Henry Fairweather, PhD.” The young woman’s eyes went wide in recognition of the truth—she had been caught! But Mrs. Standfast was not finished. 

“We have evidence,” the stern chairman continued, “that you have presented to your class your own opinions, opinions that are viewed by my own good self and other senior officials of Maydith College as unsound, improper, and grounds for immediate dismissal without a reference. Accordingly, your prospects for future employment would be bleak. We are, however, this one time prepared to take account of your youth and inexperience and, instead of immediate dismissal, offer you the option of appropriate corporal punishment such as we employ with naughty students at this institution.” 

Amy Knowell felt as if she had been punched in her solar plexus. Her knees became very watery as the tears started to well in her pretty blue eyes. Her head was spinning. 

“Come along, girl,” Mrs. Standfast spoke with crisp impatience. “You are wasting the tribunal’s time! What action shall we undertake to remedy this error?” 

An almost-fainting Miss Knowell could see her academic career evaporating. Haplessly, she stammered, “P-Punishment, p-p-please, M-Madam C-Chairman. . . .” 

Juvenile Justice for Junior Instructress 

Miss McFarlane now turned to the trembling junior instructress and di- rected, “Remove your glasses and give them to me.” Amy Knowell obeyed at once. Helen Hardy now took charge. “Get your skirt and briefs off, young lady, and place them on that chair.” 

A red faced and tearful young woman stood quivering like someone paralysed. Fortunately, Miss Hardy knew just how to deal with the situation. Smackkk! Crackkk! Two hard slaps to Miss Knowell’s prettily distressed face rewarded the girl’s inaction. She broke into choking sobs but her fingers immediately began to scrabble at the side fastenings of her snug skirt. She squirmed out of the garment, revealing an off-white elastic garter belt tautly suspendering her sheer tan nylon hose and form-fitting white nylon panties decorated with an adorable pattern of little red rosebuds. 

“So this is what junior instructresses are wearing nowadays,” observed Mrs. Standfast in an amused tone of voice. Dying from shame and humiliation, Amy Knowell removed her panties and placed them on the chair. Then she stood, head bowed, arms haplessly at her sides, and shuddered as Helen Hardy obsequiously asked Mrs. Standfast for a ruler. 

“My pleasure,” a beaming Imogene Standfast responded, opening the top right hand drawer of her imposing desk and withdrawing the requested instrument. Lightly, she patted her left palm with the ruler, an action that demonstrated its springy pliancy. 

Miss Hardy accepted the ruler with thanks and then forcefully gripped the junior instructress by her left elbow and marched the girl to an armless, straight-backed chair strategically positioned to afford all the spectators an excellent view of what was to come. Miss Hardy seated herself officiously. “Get over my knee, young lady!” she ordered in a commanding tone. With a poignantly tearful whimper, Amy Knowell obeyed.

“And now, young lady,” Miss Hardly coldly observed, “you’re going to get something you should have got a long time ago!” For the next ten minutes, the athletic and powerfully-built Helen Hardy slowly and systematically administered the ruler until Amy Knowell’s girlishly plump buttocks became vibrant hue of scarlet. The miscreant’s heartrending sobs and cries attested graphically to her suffering and repentance. 

When it was finally over, Miss Hardy helped Miss Knowell to her feet and, producing a length of cord from her jacket pocket, promptly bound the sobbing girl’s wrists behind her back. Miss Hardy then produced a shorter length of common string and efficiently knotted the girl’s lovely, honey blonde tresses into a ponytail. The reason for this would soon become evident. 

Once again grasping Amy Knowell’s elbow, Miss Hardy marched the sobbing girl into Mrs. Standfast’s commodious private washroom. The other ladies followed. With remorseless efficiency, Helen Hardy took a plain white washcloth, folded it in half, and proceeded to roll it into a tight tube. This she soaked with water and then proceed to liberally lather with soap. 

Gripping Miss Knowell’s ponytail with her left hand and holding the wet, soapy, and tightly rolled cloth in her right, Miss Hardy gave a solemn command. “Make a nice oval with that pretty mouth of yours, miss. I’m sure a big girl like you knows how to do that.” 

Amy Knowell gasped. Her already red, tear-wet face taking on an even darker hue of scarlet shame. The attractive junior instructress had never dreamed of doing such a thing with a member of the opposite sex and, indeed, her boyfriend—a rather bookish and passive research librarian— would have never dreamed of asking! 

“Want your face slapped gain, missy?” Helen Hardy hissed. Miss Knowell’s trembling lips immediately formed an oval. 

Miss Hardy now inserted the tube of cloth. The girl’s eyes widened in terror as she felt herself beginning to gag. Keeping a firm grip on the girl’s ponytail, Miss Hardy now began to work the cloth tube back and forth inside her mouth. The girl emitted poignant choking, mewling sounds as a mixture of soapy water and sweet tears dripped from her chin, soaking her snugly sweatered breasts.

“You don’t deviate from the prescribed text at Maydith College, missy,” Miss Hardy sternly lectured, pushing the tube in until it seemed Amy Knowell’s tear-filled, terrified eyes would pop! “You keep your opinions, such as they are, to yourself!” 

Evelyn Goddard observed the proceedings with great interest. She imagined how enjoyable it would be to take Miss Knowell under her direct supervision. She would convert one of the lower rooms in her large house into a classroom. She pictured “dear little Amy” standing before a blackboard on which was written a complex lesson in mathematics. Above the waist, the girl would be attired in a skin-fitting short sleeved sweater with a dunce cap perched atop her fair hair, hair which had been coiffed in a deliberately juvenile fashion. 

Illustration by Roger Benson.

Below the waist, the girl would wear the regalia prescribed for a St. Trinian’s Sixth Form girl: a black elastic garter belt, sheer, charcoal-hued nylon stockings with seams, and glossy black patent leather spike-heeled pumps. Amy’s girlishly plump rear end would be embellished with six perfectly spaced, juicy red welts from the Official English Punishment Cane. Her arms would be held out from her body, palms up, balancing (to her tearful distress) two large and heavy learned textbooks! 

Naturally, the young woman’s arduous ordeal would be followed by a strict session of soap and water discipline. A flip of the coin would determine if this discipline would be administered to heads or tails! 

A Dean’s Disciplinary Duty 

Miss McFarlane, the dean of the girls at Maydith College, was well satisfied with the outcome of Amy Knowell’s strict discipline. Two days after that memorable event, she had summoned the junior instructress to her office for a formal interview. Standing before the Dean’s desk—head respectfully bowed and arms at her sides—Miss Knowell blinked back her tears as she answered Miss McFarlane’s innumerable questions. Frequently stammering haplessly, the shapely and attractive junior instructress acknowledged that she had made a grave error, had deserved strict discipline, and would never, never, ever do such a thing again. 

A strict but essentially kindly woman, Dean McFarlane was well pleased with both the content and the manner of Miss Knowell’s responses. The good woman was satisfied that the girl had indeed learned her lesson and, as far as the lessons she taught to the Maydith girls in her class, they would henceforth be strictly “by the book”—Professor Fairweather’s learned textbook, to be specific! 

But there was one remaining piece of business, and that piece was the adorably curvaceous Lorna Jane Welworthy! Accordingly, on the very next day, dear Lorna Jane found herself standing before Miss McFarlane’s desk. 

“Your guardian, Mrs. Goddard, has most kindly provided me with a full report of the disciplinary procedures she administered to you in connection with your discourteous rudeness to Mrs. Henrietta Throckmorton, one of our community’s most public-spirited citizens.” 

Lorna Jane blushed crimson, squirming in her snug skirt and spike-heeled pumps. 

“Naturally,” Miss McFarlane continued, “I endorse and applaud Mrs. Goddard’s wise measures in the domestic realm. However, there is still an institutional matter to be resolved. I refer, of course, to the unacceptable reflection on Maydith College caused by your thoughtless behavior.” 

Lorna Jane felt a stabbing pain of pure, unadulterated fear in her plump little bumhole. The ripely molded flesh of her shapely buttocks crawled with gooseflesh inside her tight nylon panties. 

“When Miss Knowell was lecturing you on Civics, young lady, did you know she was straying from the official text?” Lorna Jane haltingly admitted that she had known that fact. “And, tell me, young lady. Did you do anything about this?” 

Lorna Jane fell silent, tears trickling down her cheeks. The answer, Dean McFarlane concluded, was that this naughty young lady had done nothing. “Through that reprehensible inaction brought discredit on yourself but, far more importantly, upon this esteemed institution. Furthermore, you had the temerity to repeat Miss Knowell’s nonsensical views— views she has now recanted, I am happy to say—to a senior and respected member of our community, Mrs. Henrietta Throckmorton. Is that not true?” 

Lorna Jane’s voice was now choked with tears as she stuttered out an affirmative reply. “Let me advise you, young lady, that if ever again you hear one of your instructors—any of your instructors—doing such a thing again, you are to report the matter to me forthwith. Do you understand?” 

A nearly-fainting Lorna Jane managed to agree to the demand. “Good,” responded Miss McFarlane. “And now I am going to discipline you for the discredit your behavior has brought upon this institution.” 

The dean opened the top right hand drawer of her desk and withdrew a ruler. While Lorna Jane observed through tear-filled, terrified eyes, the older woman proceeded to demonstrate the wicked pliancy of the instrument of correction by patting it against her left palm. It was the same type of ruler that Helen Hardy had used so effectively on Amy Knowell and was supplied to Maydith College by Harold Wisdom & Sons, Purveyors of School and Office Supplies. 

“Remove your skirt and panties, young lady,” Miss McFarlane commanded, “and place them—neatly folded—on the edge of my desk.” Lorna Jane obeyed at once! 

Rising from her chair, Miss McFarlane walked over to a now-stripped Lorna Jane and firmly gripped the frightened girl by her left elbow. Through tear-blurred eyes, the girl imagined herself being marched to a straight backed, armless wooden chair at the opposite end of the large office. She whimpered poignantly as she imagined herself bending over its back. 

But Lorna Jane was wrong! In moments, she found herself in that most juvenile and humiliating of punishment positions—over Miss McFarlane’s capable lap—the older woman’s left arm holding her victim in place with steely, immutable pressure. “If you ever disgrace Maydith College again, young lady,” Miss McFarlane announced in a cold tone of voice, “I’ll strap you until you can’t sit down for a week!”

Illustration by Roger Benson.

SMACKKK! The ruler made sonorous, stinging impact with the plumpest part of Lorna Jane’s succulent right buttock. The girl’s sweet mouth formed a bloodless “O” of dire distress! The pitiless cracks of the ruler echoed through the dean’s office. Slowly and systematically, Miss McFarlane administered an old-fashioned spanking, concentrating on Lorna Jane’s lower buttocks and upper thighs—where they were bare above her stocking tops. From long experience, Miss McFarlane knew that these areas of girlflesh were especially sensitive! 

By the tenth SMACKKK Lorna Jane was bawling like a baby and reflexively kicking her shapely, stockinged legs. It wasn’t over until Lorna Jane had received three ruler smacks for each year of her age. Thoughtfully, Miss McFarlane added three more “to grow on,” rounding the total up to an even sixty! 

An hour later, Lorna Jane was back at home. To her great good fortune, Mrs. Goddard was still out at a social function and the girl was able to avoid Jessie, the maid. 

Safe in her room, Lorna Jane removed her skirt and panties and looked remorsefully at her ruler-streaked curves in her vanity mirror. Then she saw it—a terrible run in her left stocking caused, of course, by her leg kicking during the lengthy and painful rulering! The girl burst into tears and flung herself face down on her bed to enjoy a good, long cry. 

Her burning and throbbing bottom was bad enough, but the shame and humiliation of laddered hose was just awful. Even worse, Lorna Jane had bought the Teen Queen “Tan Temptation” stockings just two days earlier. As her sweet tears of repentance soaked her pillow, Lorna Jane earnestly resolved to do anything to earn Miss McFarlane’s approval proving, once again, the great behavioral benefits of properly administered corporal punishment!

Continue reading – Luscious Lovelies Learn Their Lessons, Chapter 10: Daughterly Comeuppances by Roger Benson

Also, more Roger Benson spanking illustrations here.

Smiles and Spanks,

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