Chapter 1

I had just graduated university with my English degree and was back at my dad’s house for one of his barbeques in the village where I grew up. Grew up until my parents divorced that is. That was five years ago and this was my first time back since.

When my parents split up I went to live with my mum in London, Chelsea to be exact. Dad had been having an affair and I blamed him totally for mums near breakdown. It was two years, on my eighteenth birthday, before I saw him again. I had missed him terribly but was so angry with him for ruining my life and forcing me to leave the school I loved for some horrible private school in London, that I cut off my nose to spite my face.

I soon forgave him and we became best friends again. But I was on my way to Uni and dad was always traveling, especially in the summer, so it was just bad luck that I never got to go home to my childhood house until I was twenty-one. It was so strange driving up to the house; it hadn’t changed at all and I was instantly transported back five years.

Dad was so proud of me for getting a first-class degree he told everyone in the village and for miles beyond, whether they knew me or not. When I walked into the house, the barbeque was in full swing and there were people everywhere. There was a huge garden so it could easily accommodate the hundred or so hungry guests.

‘Imogen,’ My father shouted loudly. ‘Over here darling. Everyone, this is my very talented and beautiful daughter who has just graduated from Oxford University with a first-class honours degree.’

I immediately blushed very hard and walked very awkwardly over to where he was burning some stakes. Some people were clapping, which added to my embarrassment, and the others were all staring, probably thinking I was some stuck-up snob.

‘Daddy! Stop it, please.’ I begged him, letting him hug me tightly.

After an hour of meeting people I hadn’t seen for five years and some I never had, I escaped to a secluded part of the garden and drank my beer under the old oak tree. I sat there looking around and remembering all the great times I had here, my pussy twitching a little as I recalled my first experience of a boy’s willy in the shed by the bushes. I smiled and giggled.

‘Hey you, remember me?’ A voice said behind me.

I looked up and screamed, jumping to my feet and hugging my best friend of five years ago. We had kept in contact for a year or so after I left but then just kind of drifted in different directions. Oh, we sent birthday greetings and the odd photo but being so far apart, especially at that age, meant we both found new friends and moved on. But seeing her in the flesh just brought it all back. We were so alike and caused so much trouble, it was terrific and I really missed her when I left.

‘Oh my god, look at you, you’re so fucking ugly and when did you get so fat?’ She asked, wrestling me back to the floor.

‘You can talk, the ground was shaking five minutes before I saw you, lard arse.’ I replied, trying to stop her from lifting my dress.

‘No, no, you bitch, I haven’t got any knickers on.’ I cried, though of course I had.

‘Typical, always ready to be fucked by any boy with a spare ciggy.’ She teased.

At school we were always lifting each other’s skirts whenever it would be most embarrassing, no matter the occasion. I can’t remember how many times we got in trouble for this but it was a lot. It didn’t help that we were by far the two sexiest girls in the school and had every boy after us, all of whom loved our little games. Sarah, on one occasion had an accident and had to take her knickers off, leaving her vulnerable all afternoon. I waited for my chance like a ninja and pounced when the headmaster was showing some men from the church around the school.

She was in the corridor near the offices as they approached and was oblivious to me sneaking up behind her. I timed it perfectly, Mr Peawhistle, the head, and the three gentlemen visitors, had stopped to talk to her and where all looking at her. As soon as the first man spoke, I took the hem of her skirt and lifted, holding it there as they all stared open mouthed. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing and none of them said a word, all losing the power of speech.

Sarah reacted first, grabbing her skirt and pulling it down, her face bright red. I tried to escape but Mr Peawhistle suddenly regained his composure and shouted at me to go straight to his office. Sarah was sent with me, though I knew I was in more trouble.

‘Are you still angry I showed your smelly pussy to Mr Peawhistle and his friends?’ I asked her, losing the fight to keep my dress below my waist.

‘How could you? I never lived that down, people still call me the flasher.’ She giggled, triumphantly showing off my panties to a small group of women who were looking to see what all the noise was about.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please let me go.’ I cried, the women laughing at my predicament.

‘Ok, but only if you promise to let me do the same to you at the school reunion in ten years’ time?’

‘Ok, ok, I promise.’

She let me go and we laughed loudly, hugging each other tightly. She hadn’t changed a bit, still gorgeous and as mad as a box of frogs. Her tits had definitely grown, as had mine. She was blond and I had black hair, though we both had it long, almost to our bums. I was always taller but as we stood up, she was now a good two inches taller. We were both athletic and used to run and play hockey all the time, very competitively as well. I couldn’t say who was faster or the better player we were too similar and one could never beat the other consistently.

‘God, you’re still beautiful and that figure, wow.’ She gushed, almost in tears.

‘Me? Look at you, Miss World. How fucking tall are you and those tits? Bitch.’ I replied, crying with her.

‘I missed you so much when you left, it was never the same.’ She added, her tears running down her face.

‘I’m so sorry, I hated going but had to. Forgive me.’ I blurted, hugging her again. ‘Fuck, your tits are firm!’ I added, giggling again.

She took my hands and put them on her tits. ‘Feel, nice huh?’

‘Wow, very nice.’ I chuckled, squeezing them.

‘Have you seen Mr Grant? He’s here you know.’ She asked, squeezing mine now.

‘No way, really, where?’ I gasped.

‘You really liked him, didn’t you? Slut.’

‘Shut up. Where is he? Are you lying?’ I demanded to know.

‘Oh my god, you still want him.’ She teased.

‘He was so sexy, all mature and so strict. God, the times I fingered myself thinking of him.’ I sighed, like a school girl once more.

‘He looks even better now with his hair slightly graying. He still teaches here you know. Come, let’s find him so I can embarrass you.’ She teased some more.

‘No, don’t. Promise me you won’t, promise.’ I begged, scared now.

‘I promise, as if I’d do anything to embarrass you at your dad’s party.’ She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

‘I’m not going, I’m staying here. You are so mean, I hate you.’ I said, pouting like a child.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me, telling me to grow a pair. I tried to resist but she was stronger, her hand gripping mine tightly. I begged but to no avail, her giggling mocking me as we made our way through the garden.

‘There he is,’ She gasped, stopping. ‘Look at him in his tweed jacket and chinos, so sexy. Shall we go interrupt him?’ She asked.

‘No, no. Please, let’s just admire from afar, I’ll do anything if you don’t embarrass me, I promise.’ I blurted, knowing how dangerous that could be.

‘Anything?’ She asked.

‘Oh god, yes, but we must stay here.’ I answered, nervously.

‘Ok, deal. Oh, oh, he’s on his own now. Wait here, I’m gonna go say hello.’ And with that she was gone, walking over to him.

She looked so sexy in her summer dress, tall with big tits, long blond hair and legs that went on forever. Bitch, I thought, she’s going to steal him. I waited there in agony, the two of them chatting like old friends for ages, even laughing together. She then had his phone, doing something with it as he watched intensely, as if she was explaining how it worked to a child.

Eventually she came back, smiling like the cat that got the cream. I tried to grab her dress but she was ready, giggling and holding me off easily.

‘We’re going out for dinner tomorrow night.’ She told me, looking serious.

‘What? No, you wouldn’t, say you wouldn’t.’ I asked, my bottom lip quivering.

‘Oh my god, your face.’ She laughed. ‘Of course not, silly. But I told him you were here and had a crush on him at school.’

‘You didn’t?’

‘I did. He said he never knew. Go say hello, he wants to see how you’re doing.’ She told me, smirking.

‘I can’t yet, maybe in a bit. I need some more alcohol, come on.’ I said, my turn to pull her.

We got another drink and sat outside away from everyone, chatting and catching up. It was as though I’d never been away. We laughed and reminisced for ages, so at ease with each other. I had a new phone and she wanted to look at it, putting in her number and going through some of my photos, laughing at some of the silly ones.

She sent herself a text from me and took some photos of us, sending that as well. When she gave it back to me, she was giggling uncontrollably, rolling away from my grasp as she told me to look at my sent messages. I scrolled down and gasped with shock, looking at the message she sent to Mr Grant from me.

‘But I don’t have his number so it can’t be to him, ha ha.’ I said, so relieved.

‘Oh but you do, I got it from his phone when I was showing him how to change his password, so there.’ She replied, sticking her tongue out.

I went pale and rad it again. ‘ Hi Mr Grant, this is Imogen. I hope you remember me; you were my favourite teacher and I had such a crush on you. I was wondering if I could come to your house while I’m here at daddy’s, perhaps tomorrow? Xxx’

‘Oh my, you have gone too far this time, I’m going to kill you, come here.’ I said, lunging at her.

She was too busy laughing to get away and let me jump on her, not caring what I did now. I tried tickling her and lifting her dress but she took it all, giggling even louder. She even let me pull her knickers down, showing me her bald pussy and telling me the boys love it.

‘What’s he gonna think?’ I asked, throwing her panties at her.

As I lay on my back looking up at the sky, Sarah pulled my panties down, too, gasping at my bald pussy. ‘Great minds.’ I said.

She lay next to me, our panties on our chests. ‘Maybe we’re even now for showing my pussy to Mr Peawhistle.’

I looked at my phone, dreading what he might reply, if he bothered at all. ‘He thinks I’m a lunatic, I can’t say hello now.’

Sarah just laughed, telling me his wife left him four years ago and he hasn’t got a girlfriend. It didn’t help but at least I wouldn’t have an angry wife chasing me. It was worse because he lived here in the village, just up from the church and the chance of bumping into him while I was here was quite good. I remembered sitting in the field behind his house looking in at him when i was younger, hiding in the bushes. His house was quite isolated so I could get away with it.

‘You know I used to hide behind his house and watch him.’ I told her.

‘What! Oh my god, you didn’t?’ She screeched.

‘Shhh, someone will come.’ I told her, looking toward where the others were.

‘Imogen Darcy the mad teacher stalker, if only people knew.’ She gasped, acting all shocked.

‘Sarah Hughes, the pussy flasher of Brampton high school.’ Was my retort.

‘I should warn the poor man, give him a chance to get a restraining order.’ She continued, a horrified look on her face.

‘That won’t stop me, nothing can, he’s mine and when he realises we are meant for each other he will love me too.’ I whispered, trying to look as mad as possible.

We both then screamed with laughter and went for the others dress, desperately trying to lift them. Just when she achieved her goal and had my dress up to my waist, daddy came round from the bushes. Sarah saw him first but said nothing, holding up my dress as I struggled to with hers, without getting anywhere.

‘Oh my, it’s like going back five years, you two will never change. When your done with ... uh ... whatever this is, maybe you could join the party?’ He said, his eyes on my pussy and his head shaking.

He turned and left with just a hint of a smile on his face, happy these two were friends again. He had invited Sarah hoping they would reconnect and thus give Imogen a reason to stay longer and visit more. They were inseparable once and even though they created mayhem, they were delightful and always fun to be around.

‘Did you see his face?’ Sarah, giggled.

‘Of course I bloody did, he was staring straight at my pussy. Oh god, he saw my bald pussy, he’ll think I’m a slut now.’

‘You are, and I think he liked it; I saw desire in his eyes’ Was her response.

I pinched her hard on the tit, making her cry out. ‘You did not, don’t say such a thing.’

She giggled some more and put on her panties before saying. ‘Come on, he’s a good-looking man is your dad, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.’

I lunged for her but she was too quick, still laughing as I fell on my bum. She ran off before I could get up, shouting if I didn’t want daddy she would have him. I lay there for a second, giggling as well, thinking how much I loved her and how much fun I was having. But she needed taking down and that was my mission now. I jumped up and went after her.

I found her with daddy, her arm in his and her wicked grin taunting me. Daddy seemed to like her giving him some attention, his hand on her waist as they chatted intimately. She was such a tease, I thought, using daddy like this. I tried to pinch her again but she used daddy as a shield, telling him I was being mean and trying to hurt her.

‘Imogen, stop it now, please. I know you haven’t seen each other for a while but try to behave like a lady, if only for this afternoon.’ He said, sternly.

Sarah stuck her tongue out at me and added.’ Yes, enough is enough, Imogen, I won now get over it.’

I opened my mouth to reply but daddy stopped me. ‘Imogen!’ He gasped, his face very serious.

All I could say was, ‘Yes daddy, sorry.’ Sarah had indeed won and smiled triumphantly, squeezing daddy some more.

‘I’m going to mingle and leave you two lovebirds alone.’ I told them, very sarcastically.

‘Thank you, that’s all we ask.’ Sarah taunted, grinning.

Daddy gave me a look but said nothing. I went off looking for Mr Grant, defeated but eager for revenge. It was hard going with everyone trying to say hello and asking me what I had been up to. There were so many people from the village that by the time they had all finished with me, I was told Mr Grant had left.

I went back to Sarah and daddy, both still together but with another couple now. At least she had let go of him, the thought of her and daddy making me giggle. I nodded for her to come to me, smiling sweetly at daddy as he looked at me with suspicion.

‘He’s gone.’ I told her, looking at my phone again.

‘God, you scared the poor man to death. Are you going to spy on him from the bushes now?’ She teased.

‘I could, couldn’t I. He’ll never see me, I’m a ninja.’ I answered.

‘And I’ll spy on Gordon.’ She said, winking.

‘You leave daddy alone, he’s mine.’ I joked.

We got another drink and sat near daddy, gossiping and making up sex scenarios for all the people there, nothing off limits. Sarah’s story of Mrs Bottomley and her golden retriever by far the most outrageous, leading me to believe she was much more perverted than me.

‘What part of your sick mind did that escape from?’ I demanded to know, pretending to throw up.

‘Maybe it’s true and I saw them at it, so there.’ She answered, getting on all fours and barking.

My dad looked at us again and raised his eyes, his expression of disapproval very plain to see. Sarah smiled meekly and sat back down, blaming me for not controlling her. By the time her “friend” picked her up, a local lad called Tommy who was only casual, we had arranged to meet tomorrow afternoon at 3pm. I wanted her to stay the night but she and Tommy were going out on a double date that had been arranged for ages. I tried tears but she saw through me, promising after that night she would be all mine.

I helped daddy clear up before going up to my room for a shower. When I was finished and drying myself in front of the mirror, admiring my body and wishing I had a date, my phone pinged with a text message. I grabbed it expecting it to be from Sarah, but it was from Mr Grant.

‘1pm tomorrow. Don’t be late.’ It read.

I stared at it in disbelief, not knowing what to think. My heart was pounding in my chest and I began to sweat, my eyes glued to the words in case they disappeared. ‘Fuck, fuck, what the fuck!’ I said out loud, falling onto the bed.

I thought he would answer like a teacher, thanking me but reminding me how inappropriate my text was, and I was too young for him. But this, what the fuck. Yes, I had a crush on him five years ago but I’m a woman now, does he really think I still think of him that way? I asked myself.

‘Ridiculous.’ I said out loud, laughing.

God, Sarah was going to pay for this. I began thinking of what I could do to get her back, something big enough to match her transgression. I read Mr Grant’s message again, wondering what he was thinking inviting me to his house. Dirty old man.

I was going to text Sarah but didn’t, thinking it would make her too happy and smug. So, I went to bed still thinking of Mr Grant at his desk texting me. When I woke the next morning, he was my first thought. Daddy was already at the golf course, leaving me a note saying he would be back late afternoon. There was still some tidying up to do so I kept myself occupied for a couple of hours, Mr Grant never far from my thoughts.

After lunch I showered and did my make-up, trying on several summer dresses before deciding on the white one with red roses all over it. It was very nice and accentuated my figure perfectly. It was midthigh length and buttoned up to my tits, though with two of them left undone it showed off just the right amount of cleavage. It was 12:45 when I left the house.

I stopped at the church and paid my respects to Nan and Grandad, clearing a few weeds that had grown up. It was one pm when I walked back out onto the road, Mr Grant’s house five minutes away just around the bend. When I got to his door, I hesitated, my brain telling me not to knock and walk away. I checked my watch again and it was seven minutes past one. I knocked and waited; my breathing heavy.

No one came and it was now eight minutes past one. I knocked again, louder, my heart still racing. After waiting again, I was convinced he wasn’t going to answer, deciding not to bother with me. As I turned to go, the door opened and a very annoyed looking Mr Grant stood there.

‘I told you not to be late. You were in my class for five years; do you ever remember me tolerating lateness?’ He asked, standing there staring at me.

I felt like a little girl again, scared of being given a detention and getting a bad report. I couldn’t hold his gaze and looked down, answering: ‘Uh ... I bumped into someone and couldn’t get away in time, sorry Mr Grant.’

‘And I never accepted silly excuses either.’ He said, sternly, turning and walking into the house.

I was left standing there, watching him disappear down the hallway not knowing if I was to enter or leave. In the end, I entered, following where he went. The house was just as I imagined it would be. The ceilings were high and the Victorian cornicing was beautiful and ornate with nymphs above each door that I passed. When I got to where he disappeared, there was an open double door that led into a big room with long glass doors on the other side leading out into the garden.

Mr Grant was not there so I ventured further in, admiring the room and thinking this is just perfect for a teacher like him. There were huge book shelves on the wall with hundreds of books and a red leather couch and armchairs. Mr Grant obviously sat in the one next to the big old desk near the glass doors, it was such a cliche I almost giggled.

The garden was so green and beautiful with a table and chairs just outside on the concrete patio, perfect for afternoon tea. The fire place was big with a lovely mantlepiece and a framed mirror just above it. There were logs ready to use if the evening got a little chilly.

I then heard some noise from the other room connected to this one. It was the kitchen and Mr Grant was making some tea. I stood in the doorway and watched him, his corduroy trousers and white shirt looking immaculate as he turned to face me. He was so handsome and I smiled at him, hoping he wasn’t still angry with me.

‘You’ll see a desk in the other room over by the entrance to the garden, go to it and bend over, I’ll be in shortly to punish you for being late and rude.’ He said matter-of-factly, turning back to his teapot and cups.

I stood there dumbfounded, staring at the back of him as he continued with his task of preparing tea and cake. I knew he was serious, Mr Grant didn’t do jokes, or at least he never used to. Of course, I should have left straight away and gone home, but I didn’t. Instead, I looked back into the study at the desk, thinking I would need to clear a space for my body.

When I got to the desk, I pushed some books and papers out of the way and laid over it, my head resting to the side watching and waiting. As ridiculous as it was, I didn’t feel out of place or wrong doing what he ordered. Mr Grant came through a minute later carrying a small tray, his eyes on the small table between the sofa and the armchair as he placed the tray. He then walked past me over to the other side of the room, going to a large cabinet with glass doors filled with yet more books.

I couldn’t see what he was doing when the doors were open, his back was to me and hiding his hands. When he closed the doors, he turned around, a long thin cane now in his hand. I gulped but remained still, my heart pounding. I had never been canned before; it wasn’t allowed in schools anymore and hadn’t been for decades. What was he doing with one, I wondered, not seeing the stupidity of this question as I waited to be beaten.

‘Lift your dress up.’ He told me when he reached the desk.

He could have easily lifted it but wanted me to do it, forcing me to make another decision and give him permission to punish me. I reached behind and did as he asked, exposing my white panties and bum. He then did something himself, delicately putting his fingers under my waistband and pulling my panties down, all the way down and off. He then placed them on the desk just in front of my face, close enough that I could smell them.

I was now naked from the waist down, my bum hole and bald pussy clearly on view. All the time I was watching him, my eyes on his even though he never once looked at my face. My hands reached for the far edge of the desk and gripped it tightly, readying myself for what was to come.

‘I am very disappointed in you, Imogen. I hope this lesson will help you regain those values you have obviously lost.’

His expression never changed, he was so calm and collected, as though he did this every day. He looked even more handsome if that was possible, his confidence and dominant personality rendering me completely at his mercy. When his arm moved up in the air, I gasped and shivered but kept my eyes open.

When the thin, bamboo cane landed, I let out a yelp, unable to hold it in. The pain was real but not as bad as I thought it would be. The next one landed quickly, just as painful but bearable. This was so humiliating and shameful but at no point did I consider getting up and leaving, it was as though I wanted him to punish me.

The third strike was a lot harder and I let out another cry, gripping the desk with all my might. The fourth was just as hard but I kept quiet this time, wanting to take it like a brave girl for my teacher. He glanced at me after I was quiet, our eyes meeting for the first time. The fifth was the hardest yet, making me jump but not so painful that I had to cry out.

‘One more, Imogen.’ He announced, his eyes back on my bum.

I steadied myself and watched his hand descend, wanting the pain. When it landed, I gasped but not from pain, it was a delicious feeling being canned by Mr Grant and something I had never felt in my life. I knew my pussy was wet, I could feel it and it was aching. I wondered if he could see it, hoping he could.

He walked back over to the cabinet and put the cane away, leaving me prostrate over his desk with my bum burning from his punishment. I watched him as he went to his armchair and sat, pouring himself a cup of tea. Did he want me to join him or stay where I was?

He sipped his tea and took a bite of cake, still not looking over at me. I decided to join him, standing and brushing my dress down, my legs feeling a little wobbly as I walked the few feet to the sofa. When I sat down the cool leather felt nice on my bare bum, making me realise my panties were still on the desk.

‘So, Imogen, tell me all about your experience at University.’ He said, offering me some tea.

For the next two hours we chatted as though nothing had happened. He was the perfect host, listening to my stories and laughing when appropriate. It was relaxed and pleasant, two people enjoying each other’s company and catching up on each other’s lives. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to him considering we had never spoken outside of school. He was the most interesting man I had ever met and I hung on his every word.

Not even my old professors could talk on a subject with such command and knowledge. We argued but only as adults and I never once thought my point of view was superior to his, and he made me feel the same way, never being condescending or trying to belittle me. When it was time to leave, I was in even more awe of him.

‘I’m really sorry I was late; it won’t happen again Mr Grant.’ I said, softly as he walked me to the door.

‘Good, and call me Patrick, we’re both adults now.’ He answered.

I blushed for some reason and quickly kissed him on the cheek. He smiled and closed the door. As soon as I got home, I rushed upstairs and took off my dress, looking at my bum in the mirror. I gasped loudly at the sight, six deep red lines clearly visible across my bum. I touched them softly, caressing them and remembering how everyone was given.

Thinking of my panty’s on his desk, I began masturbating, moaning as the images of Patrick beating me played in my head. God, why didn’t he just fuck me? I wondered, my orgasm hitting within seconds. I cried out in ecstasy, the feeling out of this world.

I had three orgasms in ten minutes, all of them amazing, my body demanding satisfaction. When I was calm and relaxed, I began to think about what had happened, trying to work out if it was sexual on his part. It definitely was on mine, it was so exciting being punished like that by my old teacher, especially with my pussy on display. There was no way it wasn’t for him either, not with him pulling down my panties, he must have wanted to see my cunt.

What now? I asked myself, knowing I wanted to go back.

I showered and dressed, daddy coming home just as I came down the stairs. He was in a good mood, telling me he had beaten his friend for the first time in a year and offering to take me and Sarah out for a nice meal and drink. I called her and she was more than happy to accept, especially after a bad night with Tommy, which she would tell me all about later.

I wanted to text Patrick but was scared I might look like a silly teenage girl desperate for attention, although that’s exactly how I felt. I resolved to wait, hoping he might even text me first. Sarah arrived at six, looking absolutely stunning in a short black dress that showed off her legs and her tits.

‘Bitch, look at you, are you working as an escort tonight?’ I gasped, stomping my foot and heading for the stairs to change from my jeans and t-shirt.

‘No, we don’t have time, the taxi is here and the table is booked. You look beautiful darling, just not as beautiful as Sarah.’ Daddy teased, making Sarah laugh loudly.

‘No, it’s not fair, look at her daddy, she’ll get all the attention and I’ll get none.’ I protested, pouting like a child.

‘No, we’re going now!’ He said, sternly, ignoring my plea.

I stomped my foot again but followed them, telling Sarah I hated her and wouldn’t talk to her all night. Daddy tutted but said nothing, walking out to the taxi with Sarah deliberately taking his arm to annoy me. And Daddy let her, obviously liking the attention.

‘Oh my god, kill me now.’ I sighed, Sarah turning and sticking her tongue out.

When we sat in the back seat, her short dress rode all the way up to her panties, exposing them to daddy as he turned from the front to say something. His eyes feasted on her beautiful thighs and red, silk panties, his mouth opening to speak but nothing coming out. She was a goddess in that dress and her body was something else, poor daddy stood no chance.