Emma Wets Herself

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“Emma, please go and visit the Headmasters study immediately!” barked Mrs. Rodgers, Emma’s English teacher.

“Yes Mrs. Rodgers.” replied Emma.

Emma stands up from behind her desk. Emma Beresford is 18 years old, in her final year at South Downs High School She’s known as a good student but has a wild way with some of the boys. Her reputation is that Emma teaches the boys how to lick pussy and she uses her own for demonstration purposes.

A good looking girl. Auburn hair worn to her shoulders, a pale complexion which she needs to keep out of the sun. Size 36C breasts adorned by pretty pink nipples. 5′ 8″ tall. Unknown to Mrs. Rodgers, Emma has been shaving her pussy since her first pubic hairs started sprouting. She is very smooth and likes the feel against her navy blue regulation school cotton knickers. Her gymslip suits her, coming to her mid thigh. As its summer, school rules allow bare legs. She walks elegantly across the room, back held ramrod straight like a soldier.

Emma rushes out of the classroom. Not that anybody would have known but her mind was in turmoil.

“What have I done now?” she thought to herself.

“I know I sucked James Wills’ pitiful little dick last week, but it can’t be that, and I let John Carstairs lick my smooth pussy.” She gave a slight gasp at that thought. John has a mighty long tongue that hit just the right places.

Emma rushes to the headmasters study, a long way at the end of the school building and known to be soundproof. Mr Fox the headmaster was known to give sound thrashings to miscreant students, male ataşehir escort bayan or female and it was rumored he’d even had sex with one or two.

Emma arrives at the oak door at the entrance to Mr Fox’s study. An intimidating sight, which has made some students quiver and brought them to tears at the very sight of it.

Emma taps lightly at the door and waits.

“Come in.”

She opens the door and steps through.

Mr Fox must be at least 80, Emma thinks. In fact he’s 56 but Emma thinks everybody is old if they’re over 30.

Mr Fox is sat in a large leather chair, behind an imposing desk. He’s writing in a large A4 book. As she walks to the desk she sees her name written there. He shuts it, puts his ink pen to the side and Emma sees with a gulp, and a reddening of her cheeks that the books title is punishment book.

Oh no! thinks Emma.

“Do you know why you are here Miss Beresford?”

“NNNo sir!”

She stands tall, but now starts to hop from one foot to the next. Nervous situations like this make her desperate to wee.

“Stand still!”

Emma does as she’s told, desperate to cross her legs to take the pressure of her bladder.

“Its been reported to me by John Carstairs’ Mum that you let him lick your pussy. Is that true?”

“No Sir.” Emma thinking denial is the best plan.

“Are you saying Mrs Carstairs is a liar?”

“No sir, she must be mistaken.” Emma starts to sway from side to side.

“What is wrong with you girl? Cant you stand still?”

“I…I…want to wee escort kadıöy Sir!”

“Well do it there!”

“Sir, you cant mean that?”

“I do, wooden floor, easily mopped up, but remove your knickers first i wish to see this famed shaved pussy i’ve heard so much about.”

Emma thinks this can’t be happening, he wants me to wee on the floor and remove my knickers in front of him.

“Get on with it girl!”

Emma, desperate, can’t see a way out. She lifts her gymslip, showing Mr Fox her navy blue knickers. He must notice the damp spot as she’s already leaked a little.

She puts her hands in her waistband and slowly lowers them down, over her pale white thighs, over her knees and pushes them to the floor where she then steps out of them.

“Hold your dress up girl, Let me look at you.”

Mr Fox comes round the table to a quivering Emma, on the verge of losing it. He didn’t mean look, he meant feel. He roughly runs his hand over Emma’s pussy, pale, her clit just protruding. A rush of excitement runs through Emma, causing her to let go.

Her warm yellow wee runs over Mr Fox’s hand, over the floor, a pungent smell in the air.

“God dammit girl couldn’t you have waited one more minute.”

“Sorry Sir, I’m really sorry Sir.” stammers Emma, flushed, relieved but definitely aroused. Her cheeks blush, unknown to Mr Fox, Emma’s chest has gone red as well, her nipples erect, brushing against the inside of her bra.

Mr Fox drags Emma to his desk puts his hand on the small of her back and pushes her down onto his desk, maltepe escort flicks her dress over her back, leaving her white bottom exposed to Mr Fox’s stare. She feels his hand exploring her arse, fingering a place that nobody has ever been. She shudders at this invasion. She’s often wondered what it would be like to be arse fucked, but hopes it’s not today.

“You were getting 3 strokes of my special slipper today Emma, but I’ve doubled it as you have pissed over my hand and my office floor.”

Mr Fox produces a leather slipper. Black in colour, large, must be a size 11. A smooth sole, no doubt as a consequence of spanking many boys and girls over the years.

Without warning Emma Mr Fox crashes it down on to her arse. Emma jumps.

“OWW!” she squeals, and tries to rub her sore arse.

Mr Fox flicks her hand away. “Now stand still or it will be worse for you Emma.”

“Yes Sir.”

CRASH, another spank over the first one. Emma trys not to cry out. Her white arse glows red like a traffic light at stop.

Crash, Spank, Crash. 3 alternates one after another. Emma starts to hop around and starts again to pee uncontrollably.

“What do you think you are doing?” barks Mr Fox.

“Sorry Sir, i cant help it.”

CRASH…The harshest yet, 6. Emma screams in Mr Fox’s sound proof room.

“Get out of my room Emma and leave your knickers there.”

Emma runs, thankful its all over rubbing her bare arse as she goes and shuts the door behind her.

Mr Fox picks up Emma’s knickers from the floor, sniffs them, beautiful he thinks. I knew she had peed a little he says to himself and puts them in his drawer.

“I must invite her back for another session before term ends and i must remember to ring Mrs Carstairs to thank her, maybe i’ll invite her to observe next time.” mused Mr Fox.

THE END

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