This time it took him longer and I relished his wiry hair gently pricking my naked flesh. He finally sent his love juice against into my womb. It is impossible to describe this bliss. It is different from the usual flooding of our nests by a man's cock, which baths th «inside only, but does not often squirt into the womb, or if so, only a drop now and then unless it well opened which happens sometimes in a very passionate girl. Now I must hasten along my journey of sex knowledge and pleasures. I was then teaching school, as stated, and was on the look out among the boys of my grade, who range from ten to fourteen years of age, for one or two could be trusted. I wanted a sweet boy now, one to whom it would be a treat to see my naked body, and whose eyes would open in wonder, who would be bashful and blush deeply — it is such a pretty and lustful sight to see a young and pretty boy or girl blushing deeply and who know not what to do to hide their confusion. There were boys in my grade who were very free with little girls I knew well, the latter accepting them only too readily to their dear little charms, and I often admonished my girls by sensible talks, showing them that boys only talked very lightly about girls who lapsed from the dignity and modesty of their bearing. These talks only seemed to arouse passion in both boys and girls alike, which, to tell the truth, I really had wanted to, but had to be careful not to arouse suspicion in them, and it was only by such guarded talks I could get an inclining to their young hot natures. The girls would slyly rub their pussies under their clothes or over them when they thought I was not looking, and I'll bet many a pair of little panties was soaking wet from the pee that escaped in their suppressed longings for the boys cocks to poke them, and I'll bet every cock in the room was stiff to maddening to be at the hot girlsies. Three or four of the older boys I could easily have had as lovers, but I could not trust myself to them, believing them merely scorners of our sex and “smarties", they were on their proper behaviour to Miss Mary as they called me. Let me here say, that this was a school of the old type where the rod was well applied to bottoms for even little faults, such as getting lessons wrong. The boys were put across the bench in front of the entire class of boys and girls — the girls sat on one side of the room and the boys on the other — and I'd go through bench after bench with rod in hand and smack the nice chunky little bottoms before me, making them dance and squirm — to the suppressed delight of the girls who were all eyes. For great faults I'd take them into a small private room, pull down their pants and belabor their naked bottoms across my knee, aways taking care to hold their cocks and balls in my hand to protect them from the blows of the cane, which I applied thoroughly to thighs, bottom and in under to the crotch. In every case the little cocks would soon stiffen and fill my hand nicely. But I never make any remarks, but kept a stern face, reprimanded them all the time so that no suspicion of my secret pleasure became evident to any of them. The same with the girls, only they were never flogged or humiliated in the classroom, but only in this little private room. And oh, how I loved to fondle those dear, pretty little girls bottoms and cunties were I gave them the cane. I often found excuses to stick a finger into cunt or bottom as it lay across my lap, showing their forms up the better with their legs being well and neatly stockinged, and the kickings they made only added to my lusts. How I did delight to whip their little fat pussies that peeped up so well between the upturned cheeks of their smooth and velvety bottoms and fat thighs. Sometimes they would wet my dress with little jets of pee they could not control in their excitement. Each classroom had one of these special “punishment rooms” for the same purpose, and in each one was a specially constructed “whipping horse” to which culprits were tied hand and foot. Culprits were always blindfolded when went to the “horse", so they could not let an inkling of what was being done to them. I often lifted up my skirt and rub my belly up against their protruding bottoms or cunts that would bulge beneath them. When a girl was very bad, extra punishment was inflicted on her in this way. After her bottom, thighs and slits had been well thrashed, a smooth, round stick, about the thickness of a mans cock, was inserted into her bottom and worked very rapidly in and out while her cunnie got some more caning. Oh, how this treatment made them toss about, how those young, agile bottoms would bounce up and down and pound the horse. They'd cry out, “Oh-o-o-oh, do take that thing out of my bot-t-o-m, OO!” They would then be left for half an hour in that position, with the stick still stuck in their rumps and a threat that, if, when I returned they had let the stick fall from behind they'd get more beating on them. I'd then leave them and go to the classroom and proceed with the lesson, and go back to the tortured culprits when the half hour of her punishment was up. It ever inspired me with hot passion as I'd open the door and see the first glimpse at the upturned dress of the girl, with her naked bottom still clinging to the stick in the center of it. At times, it would happen she could not hold ft and the stick would fall out, then she'd be treated to another cunt whipping. This was the regular punishment in the school, and while the other teachers did likewise, they never had mentioned or referred to it. taking things, as did the pupils, as a matter of course. Whether the other teachers got a thrill out of it or not I do not know, probably they did, who would not? Then too, the class would know the kind of punishment the culprit was undergoing, and I could see the boys surreptitiously put their hands to their pants to shift the position of their young, stiff cocks, or the girls give a sly rub to their itching bellies It was always a keen sight of pleasure to see the boy or girl emerge from the punishment room into the class room and face the penetrating glances of their mates who devoured them with curious eyes. A girl would come out with her head bent down, blushing scarlet, weeping, more from shame than pain, and, if she was strong willed, she would keep her hands down by her sides no matter how much her bottom or cunt hurt her, if not, she'd put her hands to either place and rub no matter what the class saw, and go back to her desk.
Of course, she would be joked after school by both boys and girls, who'd ask her, tauntingly, “How is your pussy now? Did you piss? How did you like the cane up your bottom? Did you drop it? I'll bet you did and got another good puss puss warming for it?” To which the girl would retort, blushing very deep and pouting as only girls can do — “No, I didn't, there, smartie. Your turn will come soon, just see.”
Some of the worse boys or girls would crowd around her and all hands would try at once to get up her clothes and feel her up, the boys would say, “Her cunt is wet, gosh I got two fingers right up it, see,” and he'd put it to his nose and smell it. — Some would succeed in inserting a finger into her tiny bottom and remark how easy it went in, saying they'd love to put their cocks in there right now, and, “Won't you let me cock your dainty bottom, Susie?” They'd tease and tease her and each other till, as they went through the woods there would be a general fucking match, changing partners. Though all belonged to well-to-do families, they all acted like other children, being roisterous, and culture did not show well in some of them, in others it did.
After about four months close observation I finally selected two I wanted to work on, but, of course, taking only one at amp; time and have him well in hand for a month then taking the other. I set out to watch them without their knowing it. I felt sure both were accustomed to jerking off, for they were bashful, retired, and very refined, so unlike the rest of the boys, and even mingling with the girls to any great extend, but they were both real boys with boys.
The first to be my victim was Harold — He has gone away long ago. He was then just twelve, large for his age, blond curly hair, pretty blue eyes, and a most sweet, angelic pretty face and form. Very mannerly and courteous, with a certain diffidence of manner toward his teacher that showed the sentiment and high regard, but he was shy, timid, not showing the usual boyish initiativeness. I knew there was but one cause for such traits in a boy with his natural endowments.