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Mr. Jenkins The Teacher
- Thread starter riwa
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Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
Oh i have just taken 16 strokes of the cane, it`s brilliant
i`m glad the audio files turned up
i`m glad the audio files turned up
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
Looks like it`s going to be a long bleak winter for this lady,
changing the manager does`nt help at all, i am going to
have two grumpy men on my hands this weekend
changing the manager does`nt help at all, i am going to
have two grumpy men on my hands this weekend
riwa
Governor
A couple weeks later my daughter brought a note home from school. It was parent-teacher night and I was to report to Mr. Jenkins promptly at 7:30. The note said only my presence was requested.
As the hour approached I kissed James goodbye, told my daughter I was going to see her teacher and then left the house. I took my purse with me, wondering what he had to tell me. I thought her grades had improved and I’d heard no reports of any misbehaving.
When I arrived, there were only three other vehicles in the parking lot. I thought that odd since it was parent teacher night. I assumed the other parents had been called in the same way I had.
I had just entered the building when I encountered Mrs. Smythington scampering my way. She was clutching her purse and sobbing uncontrollably. “Is something wrong, Ann?” I asked as she approached, feeling sorry over what had brought her to such distress.
“It’s just my son, Mrs. Brown,” she sobbed. Then she rushed on by and out the door. I watched her go, finding her behavior a bit odd. I hoped her son was ok and the situation could be straightened out.
I walked down the hall to Mr. Jenkins study as memories of my last visit came to mind. There were a couple chairs outside his door, one of which was already filled by the prim and proper Mrs. Edelson. “Good evening, Elizabeth,” I nodded politely.
“Evening, Mrs. Brown.” Then she winced as though she had just been hit. At the same time I thought I heard a sound coming from the other side of the door.
The sound was repeated and she winced again. I vaguely thought I heard “Five…” Then I heard it again, a distinct smack followed by a female crying out “Six…” But Mrs. Edelson had jumped again at the sound.
Smack… “Seven…” and Mrs. Edelman jumped….
Smack… “EIGHT…” and she jumped again. Were her eyes beginning to water?
Smack… “NINE!” The voice inside was sobbing as Mrs. Edelman jumped yet again.
Smack… “TEN!” A female inside was now bawling like a baby.
I looked at Mrs. Edelson in alarm. Then I pointed at the door and mouthed, “What’s going on in there?” She shook her head, but I plainly saw her cheeks were wet with tears.
There was no sound from beyond the door. I heard some sort of rustling. Then I recognized the voice of my daughter’s teacher… “You can go now, Mrs. Ailes. Please send the next one in.”
I looked at Mrs. Edelson who stood up. A moment later the door opened. Mrs. Ailes hair was a mess and she was sobbing as she declared, “You can go in now, Mrs. Edelson. Good evening, Mrs. Brown.” Then she went rushing down the hallway, sobbing loudly as she clutched her purse in her hands.
Mrs. Edelson look at me as though she was going to face the firing squad. Then she turned the knob, opened the door and numbly went inside. I sat down in her chair, wondering what was going to happen. Since I had nothing better to do I listened in on the conversation that was loud enough to be overheard…
“I’ve called you in before, have I not, Mrs. Edelson?”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.”
“I’m afraid your son is still being disruptive in class. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Please assume the position.”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.” I found myself wondering what position she was supposed to assume. Then I remembered my last visit and I decided I did not want to know.
For a moment there was silence. Then I heard Mr. Jenkins voice telling her, “Call them out, Mrs. Edelson.” There was a distinct smack followed by… “One…”
I winced at the sound, wondering what I’d just heard…
Smack… “Two…” I winced again…
Smack… “Three…” My breath caught in my throat as I remembered what had happened last time I was in his room…
Smack… “Four…” I winced again as I heard Mrs. Edelson’s voice cracking…
Smack… “Five…” That one sounded like it really hurt!
Smack… “Six…” Her voice sounded like she was breaking down…
Smack… “Seven!” I jumped again; that too sounded as though it really hurt. Now my own eyes were getting wet as my knickers began to moisten…
Smack… “EIGHT!” Inside she sounded almost to the point of hysterics…
Smack… “NINE!” and by now she was sobbing…
Smack… “TEN!” I heard Mrs. Edelson wailing inside the room.
“That will be all, Mrs. Edelson. I trust your son’s behavior in class will improve?”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.” She was sobbing openly now.
“Very well. You may go. Please send the next one in.”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.”
I waited until the sobbing approached the door. Then it opened and she came out. The prim and proper Mrs. Edelson looked all disheveled as she clutched her purse while sobbing openly. “Mr. Jenkins will see you know, Dorothy,” she said as she bawled like a baby. Then she ran wailing down the hallway.
I gulped nervously as I picked up my purse. Then I walked inside. To my horror I saw a caning horse standing prominently in the center of the room as Mr. Jenkins sat at his desk.
“Ah, Mrs. Brown,” he said as he looked up. “Still having problems with your daughter’s homework I see.”
“What problems? There are no problems.”
“She has not been turning it in on time. We’ve been over this before, Mrs. Brown.” Then he motioned over at the horse… “Assume the position, please.”
I gulped nervously as I started to tremble. My knickers were wet; I was embarrassed as hell. I slowly placed my purse down on a nearby table and then bent over the device.
He cuffed my wrists to the front and then flipped up my skirt, revealing my moist knickers. He pulled them down my legs, ordering me to lift my feet one at a time so I could step out of them. That’s when I really began to tremble.
“No, Mr. Jenkins!” I pleaded. “Please. I’ll shag you if you desire. Please don’t cane me!”
“Mrs. Brown; you know better than that!” he replied sternly. “That’ll be fifteen for you. Now count them out!”
“No – WAIT…” Smack… and I flinched.
“I’m waiting.”
“One…”
Smack… “Two…” and I jerked from the pain…
Smack… “Three…” Bloody hell, that one hurt!
Smack… “Four…” I wasn’t going to have to face eleven more, was I??
Smack… “Five…” I flinched and nearly cried out, painfully aware there might be someone outside the door listening to me have my turn…
Smack… “Six!” That one hurt too!
Smack… “Seven!” Now the tears were welling up in my eyes. Bloody hell; had he caned every parent that had walked in here??
Smack… “Eight!” I jerked and yipped as the tears started trickling down my cheeks. I was trying desperately not to cry.
Smack… “NINE!” Bloody hell; I think he enjoyed that one…
Smack… “TEN!” and I started sobbing, knowing I still had five more to go…
Smack… “ELEVEN!” Now I was openly crying…
Smack… “TWELVE!” and I flinched as I cried out, my sobs growing louder…
Smack… “THIRTEEN!” My bum stung like hell; I wasn’t going to be able to sit for a week…
Smack… “FOURTEEN!” Now I was sobbing hysterically, shamefully aware I was crying loud enough to be heard outside his door…
Smack… “FIFTEEN!” and I wailed mournfully.
He released me from the cuffs and I straightened up. He bent over, daintily picked up my knickers and handed them to me. I shamefully tucked them into my purse.
“That will be all, Mrs. Brown. I trust your daughter’s homework will be finished on time. You may send the next one in.”
“Yes, Mr. J-Jenkins.” Then I rushed for the door, bawling like a baby.
Mrs. Stevens was sitting in the chair when I emerged from his office. “He’ll see you now, Laura!” I sobbed. Her lead lowered as though anticipating what she was going to receive. Then I scampered on down the hallway, bawling my head off while feeling more infatuated with Mr. Jenkins than ever before…
(written for Dorothy Sep 19 ’16 by Riwa)
As the hour approached I kissed James goodbye, told my daughter I was going to see her teacher and then left the house. I took my purse with me, wondering what he had to tell me. I thought her grades had improved and I’d heard no reports of any misbehaving.
When I arrived, there were only three other vehicles in the parking lot. I thought that odd since it was parent teacher night. I assumed the other parents had been called in the same way I had.
I had just entered the building when I encountered Mrs. Smythington scampering my way. She was clutching her purse and sobbing uncontrollably. “Is something wrong, Ann?” I asked as she approached, feeling sorry over what had brought her to such distress.
“It’s just my son, Mrs. Brown,” she sobbed. Then she rushed on by and out the door. I watched her go, finding her behavior a bit odd. I hoped her son was ok and the situation could be straightened out.
I walked down the hall to Mr. Jenkins study as memories of my last visit came to mind. There were a couple chairs outside his door, one of which was already filled by the prim and proper Mrs. Edelson. “Good evening, Elizabeth,” I nodded politely.
“Evening, Mrs. Brown.” Then she winced as though she had just been hit. At the same time I thought I heard a sound coming from the other side of the door.
The sound was repeated and she winced again. I vaguely thought I heard “Five…” Then I heard it again, a distinct smack followed by a female crying out “Six…” But Mrs. Edelson had jumped again at the sound.
Smack… “Seven…” and Mrs. Edelman jumped….
Smack… “EIGHT…” and she jumped again. Were her eyes beginning to water?
Smack… “NINE!” The voice inside was sobbing as Mrs. Edelman jumped yet again.
Smack… “TEN!” A female inside was now bawling like a baby.
I looked at Mrs. Edelson in alarm. Then I pointed at the door and mouthed, “What’s going on in there?” She shook her head, but I plainly saw her cheeks were wet with tears.
There was no sound from beyond the door. I heard some sort of rustling. Then I recognized the voice of my daughter’s teacher… “You can go now, Mrs. Ailes. Please send the next one in.”
I looked at Mrs. Edelson who stood up. A moment later the door opened. Mrs. Ailes hair was a mess and she was sobbing as she declared, “You can go in now, Mrs. Edelson. Good evening, Mrs. Brown.” Then she went rushing down the hallway, sobbing loudly as she clutched her purse in her hands.
Mrs. Edelson look at me as though she was going to face the firing squad. Then she turned the knob, opened the door and numbly went inside. I sat down in her chair, wondering what was going to happen. Since I had nothing better to do I listened in on the conversation that was loud enough to be overheard…
“I’ve called you in before, have I not, Mrs. Edelson?”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.”
“I’m afraid your son is still being disruptive in class. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Please assume the position.”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.” I found myself wondering what position she was supposed to assume. Then I remembered my last visit and I decided I did not want to know.
For a moment there was silence. Then I heard Mr. Jenkins voice telling her, “Call them out, Mrs. Edelson.” There was a distinct smack followed by… “One…”
I winced at the sound, wondering what I’d just heard…
Smack… “Two…” I winced again…
Smack… “Three…” My breath caught in my throat as I remembered what had happened last time I was in his room…
Smack… “Four…” I winced again as I heard Mrs. Edelson’s voice cracking…
Smack… “Five…” That one sounded like it really hurt!
Smack… “Six…” Her voice sounded like she was breaking down…
Smack… “Seven!” I jumped again; that too sounded as though it really hurt. Now my own eyes were getting wet as my knickers began to moisten…
Smack… “EIGHT!” Inside she sounded almost to the point of hysterics…
Smack… “NINE!” and by now she was sobbing…
Smack… “TEN!” I heard Mrs. Edelson wailing inside the room.
“That will be all, Mrs. Edelson. I trust your son’s behavior in class will improve?”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.” She was sobbing openly now.
“Very well. You may go. Please send the next one in.”
“Yes, Mr. Jenkins.”
I waited until the sobbing approached the door. Then it opened and she came out. The prim and proper Mrs. Edelson looked all disheveled as she clutched her purse while sobbing openly. “Mr. Jenkins will see you know, Dorothy,” she said as she bawled like a baby. Then she ran wailing down the hallway.
I gulped nervously as I picked up my purse. Then I walked inside. To my horror I saw a caning horse standing prominently in the center of the room as Mr. Jenkins sat at his desk.
“Ah, Mrs. Brown,” he said as he looked up. “Still having problems with your daughter’s homework I see.”
“What problems? There are no problems.”
“She has not been turning it in on time. We’ve been over this before, Mrs. Brown.” Then he motioned over at the horse… “Assume the position, please.”
I gulped nervously as I started to tremble. My knickers were wet; I was embarrassed as hell. I slowly placed my purse down on a nearby table and then bent over the device.
He cuffed my wrists to the front and then flipped up my skirt, revealing my moist knickers. He pulled them down my legs, ordering me to lift my feet one at a time so I could step out of them. That’s when I really began to tremble.
“No, Mr. Jenkins!” I pleaded. “Please. I’ll shag you if you desire. Please don’t cane me!”
“Mrs. Brown; you know better than that!” he replied sternly. “That’ll be fifteen for you. Now count them out!”
“No – WAIT…” Smack… and I flinched.
“I’m waiting.”
“One…”
Smack… “Two…” and I jerked from the pain…
Smack… “Three…” Bloody hell, that one hurt!
Smack… “Four…” I wasn’t going to have to face eleven more, was I??
Smack… “Five…” I flinched and nearly cried out, painfully aware there might be someone outside the door listening to me have my turn…
Smack… “Six!” That one hurt too!
Smack… “Seven!” Now the tears were welling up in my eyes. Bloody hell; had he caned every parent that had walked in here??
Smack… “Eight!” I jerked and yipped as the tears started trickling down my cheeks. I was trying desperately not to cry.
Smack… “NINE!” Bloody hell; I think he enjoyed that one…
Smack… “TEN!” and I started sobbing, knowing I still had five more to go…
Smack… “ELEVEN!” Now I was openly crying…
Smack… “TWELVE!” and I flinched as I cried out, my sobs growing louder…
Smack… “THIRTEEN!” My bum stung like hell; I wasn’t going to be able to sit for a week…
Smack… “FOURTEEN!” Now I was sobbing hysterically, shamefully aware I was crying loud enough to be heard outside his door…
Smack… “FIFTEEN!” and I wailed mournfully.
He released me from the cuffs and I straightened up. He bent over, daintily picked up my knickers and handed them to me. I shamefully tucked them into my purse.
“That will be all, Mrs. Brown. I trust your daughter’s homework will be finished on time. You may send the next one in.”
“Yes, Mr. J-Jenkins.” Then I rushed for the door, bawling like a baby.
Mrs. Stevens was sitting in the chair when I emerged from his office. “He’ll see you now, Laura!” I sobbed. Her lead lowered as though anticipating what she was going to receive. Then I scampered on down the hallway, bawling my head off while feeling more infatuated with Mr. Jenkins than ever before…
(written for Dorothy Sep 19 ’16 by Riwa)
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
I Did`nt even know you had posted that, you really
kept that quiet. Mr Jenkins is dishy though and my
kids seem to like him, and i would`nt say no to a
caning, or even an over the knee spanking,but
sadly that is not allowed anymore. now i need
to change my knickers i wet them through
reading that
kept that quiet. Mr Jenkins is dishy though and my
kids seem to like him, and i would`nt say no to a
caning, or even an over the knee spanking,but
sadly that is not allowed anymore. now i need
to change my knickers i wet them through
reading that
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
Instead of calling yourself a Guard, why don`t
you change it to Professional Teaser
you change it to Professional Teaser
pontiopilato
Governor
I wonder how Mr. Jenkins feels about, uh, whipped potatoes.