Getting a Detention in the Nude

Five more minutes and school would be over for the day. Emma stared out of the window and watched the rain cascading across the playground. She liked her new private school, but the teachers were very strict, and you had to follow closely a Student Code of Conduct. English was her favorite subject and Mr. Johnson was her favorite teacher but the day was nearly over and she’d lost interest in the intricacies of Othello’s love life. She was planning her evening and her plans didn’t include Shakespeare.

It had been a week since she’d heard from Jennifer, and Elyse seemed to be busy every evening. They’d planned to meet tomorrow but she couldn’t wait till then. She’d have to phone and find out how Jennifer’s interviews had gone. The strident voice of her English teacher jerked her back to reality.

“Emma! You’re not paying attention. I don’t think your work is good enough that you can afford to ignore the lesson. See me in my study after school. Perhaps you’ll be able to concentrate better in your own time.”

At that moment the final bell rang and Emma cursed her bad timing. Another minute or two and she would have been going home and now her plans for the evening were ruined. She hoped that Mr. Johnson wouldn’t keep her behind for long – she was having enough problems with her step-father without having to tell him that she’d been assigned a detention.

She wondered if she’d get away with saying that she’d had to shelter from the rain. The weather had been fine and dry when she left home that morning and she hadn’t bothered with a coat. She looked out at water streaming down the windows and realized that her step-father would never believe her because it looked as if she was going to get wet anyway.

Mr. Johnson’s study was on the other side of the school and she was going to have to walk or run across the playground in the rain to get there. She waited at her desk till the other pupils had left, in the hope that the down pour would stop but she was out of luck again. Five paces into the playground and the rain began to beat down with renewed ferocity as though it had only been waiting for her to step outside.

She arrived at her teacher’s study soaked and shivering. Her long blonde hair hung in lank tendrils about her face and her blouse and skirt were sticking to her slim body like a second skin.

Her teacher had managed to stay dry somehow (secret passageway under the building?), which added to Emma ‘s misery as she stood before him with her drenched clothes dripping water onto the carpet. He took a towel from his desk and casually tossed it to her.

“You’re soaked through. You’d better get those wet clothes off.”

Emma looked quizzically at her teacher.

“Sir?”

“What’s the matter? Do you want to catch your death a cold?”

The youngster looked bewildered.

“No, sir, but I’ve got nothing to change into.”

“Put the towel around you until your clothes are dry and hurry it up, you’re dripping water everywhere.”

“I can’t undress in front of you. I’d rather go home and change.”

Her teacher sighed impatiently.

“I’m sure you would, but in case you’ve forgotten, you’re been assigned a detention.”

Emma hadn’t forgotten. She was still wondering how to tell her parents about it. She shivered – as much from nervousness as the cold.

“I could do the detention tomorrow sir. It’s not my fault that I’m all wet.”

“It’s your fault that you’re in detention. Anyway . . . tomorrow is inconvenient for me. It has to be this evening. Now get out of those wet clothes and put the towel round you. I’ll light the fire and you can sit by it to keep warm while your things dry.”

Emma ‘s heart raced as she realized that her teacher was serious. He actually expected her to undress with him in the room. The youngster felt torn between the discipline that said she must obey her teacher and her instinct to preserve her modesty. He obviously meant what he said, but she couldn’t take her clothes off in front of him.

“Is there somewhere that I could change, sir?”

He gave her a withering glance, “What’s wrong with here?”

“I could go to the bathroom and change,” she suggested desperately.

“And run back here with just a towel around you? I don’t think so.”

The trembling youngster made a final plea.

“Please, sir, could you leave the room while I undress?”

“Are you suggesting that I’d want to look at your body child? That’s a very serious accusation.”

“No, sir, I don’t think that. It’s just that I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m not even looking at you. Now, do as I tell you unless you want detention for the rest of the term.”

Emma ‘s green eyes widened as she stared back at him in astonishment. Then she remembered – Mr. Johnson had kept Jennifer in detention for weeks on end. He obviously meant what he said. Her voice sounded more defiant than she felt.

“You can’t keep me in for not undressing, sir.”

Her teacher picked up a thin cane from the desk top and flexed it casually.

“I can keep you in for disobeying me and I can do even worse for insolence.”

He slapped the cane into the palm of his hand with a loud crack and turned away to study the book shelves as though the matter was closed. Emma felt a cold chill of fear at the casual threat of violence. The frightened youngster hesitated for a moment. There was no telling how real her teacher’s threat was but she decided that it would be safer to obey him than to risk the alternative.

His back was to her as he bent to light the gas fire and he showed no sign of turning round. Emma Lucy hurriedly stripped off her skirt and blouse and grabbed the towel. She struggled to cover herself, but what he had given her was only somewhat bigger than a hand towel. It was obviously too small to conceal her bust and her thighs at the same time.

While her teacher hung her clothes over a chair, she looked around for something larger to cover herself but there was nothing in the room. The young girl stood self-consciously for several minutes and began to fidget nervously as her teacher fussed with her wet clothes. He smoothed and flattened each garment as he spread it over the chair. There was only a skirt and blouse but he seemed to be taking his time over the job.

“Don’t you wear pants Emma?”

“Yes, sir, of course I do.”

“And a bra?”

“Yes, sir?”

“They don’t seem to be here. Are you still wearing them?”

“Y-yes, of course I am, sir.”

“Take them off. You can’t sit around in wet clothes.”

Emma trembled violently. She already felt naked and vulnerable without her skirt or blouse. Surely he didn’t expect her to take her bra and panties off as well. He raised his head and stared at her with an air of expectation.

“I don’t need to take them off, sir. I’m sure they’ll dry all right while I’m wearing them.”

“No they won’t Emma. Please stop behaving like a silly child and take them off.”

Emma set her mouth obstinately and pulled the scrap of towel more tightly round her shivering frame. She had no intention of stripping naked in front of anybody and she was ready to argue the point.

Her teacher crossed the room purposefully and for a moment Emma panicked as she thought that he intended to strip her himself. She clutched the towel more tightly and backed away but her teacher went straight to his desk and picked up the cane.

Emma ‘s eye’s opened wide in horrified amazement as he gripped the end of the cane and flexed it experimentally. It took several seconds for the young girl to appreciate the real enormity of her situation.

Her teacher obviously intended to threaten her with a beating unless she took everything off. He surely couldn’t be serious. The anxious youngster decided to call his bluff. He could say what he liked but she was not going to take her bra and pants off. She wished that she had gone home to get dry instead of meekly doing as he had ordered, but it was too late now. She stood in silent defiance and waited for him to back down.

Her teacher was equally silent. His face was grim and his lips set tightly as he silently raised the cane. Emma still did not believe that he would really strike her until she heard the whistle of the thin cane and felt the stinging lash as it smacked her bare thigh. She screamed in pain and surprise but the cane was already lashing out at her other leg. The blow landed and she squealed again. A thin red stripe appeared on the fleshy top of each leg and she desperately hopped backwards to avoid the next blow.

“You can’t do this. It’s not allowed, I’ll report you to the authorities.”

She heard the swish of the cane before it landed. This time on both legs, just below her buttocks and this time the burning pain brought tears to her eyes. She wondered if her teacher had used his cane on Elyse. She’d had plenty of detentions but she’d never mentioned being caned. Now that Emma thought about it, she realized that Jennifer had never really discussed her detentions at all. Was this the reason for her secrecy? Had Mr. Johnson done the same things to her?

“You’re in no position to tell me what I can do Emma, and it will be your word against mine if you report it. The marks will have faded before you get home. Now get those wet things off before I give you a real caning.”

The tearful youngster was too frightened to reply. She was sure that if she said anything at all, he would hit her again. Hot salt tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned her back on her teacher and removed her bra. She dropped it to the floor and struggled to peel off her wet panties with one hand while she clutched the towel around her with the other.

Her teacher picked up the flimsy garments in silence and sat down at his desk. To Emma ‘s surprise, he ignored her but instead studied the flimsy damp scraps of material in his hand. She waited silently, expecting him to hang her underwear with the rest of her clothes but he appeared to be absorbed in his thoughts. It was as if he had forgotten she was in the room.

The tension was unbearable – half of her hoped that he would continue to ignore her but the other half wanted the ordeal to be over as quickly as possible. Too embarrassed to speak, she coughed nervously. He looked up and stared at her as if he was surprised to find a near naked girl in the room.

“Yes? What is it?”

She pointed to her underwear.

“My things – aren’t you going to hang them up to dry . . . sir?”

He looked down at his hand

“Ah yes, sit down then Emma.”

He indicated an old armchair opposite his desk and, still struggling to preserve her modesty, Emma sank into it. The sagging springs gave no support to her weight and she slumped into an almost horizontal position that allowed her teacher to see to the top of her legs and beyond.

She hastily crossed her legs and frowned in bewilderment. He’d said that he wasn’t interested in her body but his gaze was focused intently between her bare thighs. She noticed that he was still holding her panties and bra, turning them in his hand and manipulating them between his fingers. He seemed especially interested in her small bra, and momentarily put a couple of fingers into the cup and gently poked where her nipples recently had resided.

Her legs still smarted but the pain was fading away and a warm pulse was spreading through her thighs.

The bizarre situation was more frightening and confusing because it was so unexpected. She had always liked her English teacher – in fact, like most of the girls in her year, she’d fantasized about him. Her fantasies had never included pain and humiliation. They had mostly been romantic situations based on what she’d read in magazines. This was real and she was no longer sure that she even liked her teacher. She had always been a good student and had thought that Mr. Johnson liked her, but now everything seemed to have turned upside down. He’d beaten her and forced her to undress. Now she was alone and naked in his office and he was in complete control of her fate. She chided herself for letting her imagination get the better of her.

So he’d hit her. Plenty of pupils got caned didn’t they? Not many of them sat in their teacher’s study without their clothes on though. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault that she’d gotten wet. Maybe he really was thinking of her welfare when he insisted that she strip totally. Of course there was no more to it than that. He was her teacher and, even if he was quite good looking, he was almost old enough to be her father. As if he would be interested in a sixteen-year-old girl who had next to no experience with boys let alone men.

She fretted nervously as her teacher continued to stare silently at her semi-naked legs. It was becoming more difficult to convince herself that he had no interest in her body. He shifted his gaze to where the inadequate towel barely covered her firm breasts and cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you Emma, but you must see that I can’t allow a student to defy me.”

“Yes, sir,” she said sullenly.

“I don’t expect you to like me much at the moment, but I’m as upset as you are about it.”

Emma doubted that,, but decided to say nothing. Her thighs were still throbbing with . . . what?. . . It wasn’t pain now. It was a pulsing warm glow that made her think about Mike her boyfriend for some reason.

“If you’re wondering why I kept you behind Emma, it’s because your work has been slipping, and I want to know why.”

“There’s no reason, Sir. I didn’t realize that I was behind.”

The teacher got up and paced slowly around her chair.

“Is something worrying you? Boyfriend troubles perhaps?”

“I haven’t got time to think about boys. My step-father says there’s plenty of time for that after my exams.”

“And what do you say?”

“I suppose he’s right. My school work should come first.”

“That’s true but all work and no play sounds unhealthy to me. You’re sixteen now aren’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

“Most girls of your age think about boys and sex all the time and I doubt whether you’re any different . . . especially if you haven’t got a boyfriend. No wonder your work is slipping.”

“I don’t think about it at all,” she lied and hoped that he couldn’t see her flush as she said it.

“What? When there’s a dozen boys from St. Marks hanging about by the school gates every afternoon. Are you expecting me to believe that you can walk past those boys and not even think about sex for a moment?”

“It’s embarrassing walking past them, sir.