Peeping Tom Spanked Publicly
Pete found himself alone in the college weight room, waiting for cheer practice to conclude. The weight room shared a wall with the ladies' locker room, and fortunately, the hole in the upper corner stayed undiscovered. He got accustomed to routine workouts during cheer change and shower hours. Peeking through the hole was a must for him.
The locker room door swung open, giving Pete a sign to move closer. Checking the corridor for any noticeable presence, he stealthily made his way to the hole. Perched on the bench press, he could view the energizing sight of the lovely college girls unprettily diminished. He slipped his hand into his briefs and rubbed his penis in fascination as he watched the cheer captain's naked figure. But then came an unexpected call, causing him to panic.
"What the hell are you doing!?" a loud voice echoed through the room. Pete hastily took off his hand, swiftly turning to his right to find Mrs. Anderson, the female P.E. teacher, standing in the doorway.
Caught red-handed, he stood trembling, offering a flimsy response. "I was just stretching against the wall and had an itch."
Rather than using the opportunity to escape, he chose to remain frozen. Mrs. Anderson strode over to the bench, overlooking him. "If I turn you in, you'll simply get suspended and miss a few classes. That's hardly enough to compensate for what you've done. You disrespected these girls, and I intend to deliver a far harsher punishment. Sit down on the bench. I'll be back shortly."
Celestial Pete settled on the bench, his stomach in a rehearsed knot, as he awaited what was to come next. Mrs. Anderson walked out of the room and back in with another partner—the cheerleaders—lining up. His stomach sank further as he stared at them, avoiding eye contact. "Align yourselves against the wall, so you can all witness Pete," Mrs Anderson instructed the group of girls. As they formed a crowded group, she pointed at him. "What were you up to when I intruded five minutes ago?" she asked angrily.
Pete offered a timid response, "Working out." He knew this wouldn't be deemed good enough. A menacing look flashed across her face. "You're lying. What were you doing?" she repeated forcefully. "Watching the girls in the locker room," he whispered.
Infuriated, she glared at him, "Speak up so everyone can hear you." He repeated his response audibly. A subtle intake of breath from the girls was audible as they turned their attention to him. "You were jerking off while ogling us," she declared, generating audible gasps from the group of girls.
Dismayed by guilt, Pete lowered his head, apologizing. Mrs. Anderson, however, silenced him. "Don't try to apologize to me. Instead, pull down your pants, shirt, and undergarments, and stand on the bench press. Face away from us with your hands on the barbell." Pete, shaken, obeyed, standing quiveringly with his achievements visible for all the girls to see.
Remaining silent, Mrs. Anderson shifted next to him, eying her target. "Bend over the barbell and rest your hands on the headrest." As ever-compliant Pete bent over, Mrs. Anderson faced a dilemma—utilizing his urge for humiliation against him.
She placed her hand firmly on his back, pushing him against the cold, hard bar. She stroked his belt up and down his body and between his legs, reminding him of how exposed he was to everyone. She laughed maliciously as she jerked the belt back, hitting his bare ass with a loud smack. There was a collective gasp from the girls behind him. He cried out in pain as she swung the belt again, leaving two bright red stripes across his cheeks.
The pain intensified with each whip of the belt. Pete tried to remain balanced on the bench and hold back his tears. He was able to maintain his composure, but the fallen drops reveal his efforts. She halted and stepped back to admire his reddened rear. She tossed the belt aside and addressed the girls, "Your cheer captain, could you fetch my cane? It's in my office." The cheer captain quickly departed and returned after a few moments, brandishing a long rattan cane. She handed it to Mrs. Anderson and returned to her seat, anticipating the show.
Mrs. Anderson stroked Pete's body with the cane, poking and prodding his hanging testicles. She also rubbed the cane around his hole, pushing the tip in and out a few times. A soft moan escaped his lips. His growing erection made his arousal noticeable. Mrs. Anderson smirked and swung the cane back with a crack. The cane left a thin red line across the center of both cheeks.
The caning continued with great intensity. The strokes became more severe, causing Pete to struggle to remain in a standing position. His cries became louder, almost hysterical. He begged and tried to shield his ass from the blows, but there was no escaping them. He had to stay on tiptoe to avoid the bar from digging into his sensitive skin. Mrs. Anderson didn't relent as she delivered the cane to his ass repeatedly. His entire body shook from the agony.
She finally stopped and stood up. His ass was covered in purple welts. "Get up!" she commanded. He trembled and attempted to hide the tears streaming down his face before carefully climbing off the bench. Mrs. Anderson straddled his back, sitting down and facing the crowd. "Spread your cheeks," she commanded. He reached back with both hands, spreading his ass cheeks as far as he could, bare hole exposed. She raised the cane over her head and brought it down directly on his hole. He cried out in agony as she caned his anus and perineum multiple times, leaving him sobbing.
Mrs. Anderson motioned for the girls to gather around and inspect. They circled him, observing his bruised bottom.
"Would anyone like to try?" she asked while flourishing the cane. The cheer captain eagerly approached. "Yes, please!" she exclaimed. She seated herself on his back and began striking him five times with the cane while he held his cheeks apart. On the fifth strike, the tip of the cane accidentally struck his balls, causing him to jerk and nearly toss her off his back. "Oops," she laughed, "sorry about that" as she patted his ass.
A few more girls tried their hand at hitting him. They were rougher than Mrs. Anderson, inflicting a few stray marks on the backs of his thighs. When they finished, Mrs. Anderson complimented them. "Excellent job, everyone." She turned to Pete. "Have you learned your lesson, Pete?"
Choking back tears, he said, "Yes, ma'am."
"Good boy. Right now, walk to the nurse's office. You're going to need treatment." He got up and reached for his clothes.
"You don't need clothes. Just go see the nurse," Mrs. Anderson stated. He reluctantly left, walking past the girls, and down the corridor to the nurse's office. He felt utterly embarrassed and unsure how he could ever look at these girls in the eye again.
A knock sounded on the nurse's door and a "come in" was heard softly. Surprised, a naked boy entered the room, explaining the situation and showing his behind. The nurse stood up and gently ushered him to the back room: "It's all settled now. I'll take good care of you," she said tenderly. He let out a deep sigh and confessional tears. She embraced him, comforting him through his distress.
She stated: "Come now, let's get you cleaned up. I'm going to have you climb on the table." He cautiously crawled up, positioning himself. "I need you on all fours, so I can get a good look."
Her empathetic words calmed him down. On his knees, he bent forward with his forearms on the table. He lifted his buttocks, offering them up to her. "Oh, that looks so painful," she remarked sympathetically while gliding her hand over his sizzling buttocks. "Wow, that's hot!" she exclaimed, worried. "I must check your temperature."
She retrieved a thermometer and healing cream from a nearby cabinet. She untangled the thermometer and held it to the edge of his anus. He elevated his hips, invited her. She thrust the thermometer deep inside his tight hole, moved it around, causing pleasurable moans. She left it in place and generously painted his sore cheeks with cool, soothing cream. Her touches were gentle yet solid, soothing his muscles. His breathing deepened, as he found relief in her care. His excitement was visible. "I'm sorry, miss. I didn't mean..."
She interrupted: "Don't be embarrassed." She stretched around him and stroked his erection. He moaned, letting her hands wander over his sensitive equipment from behind. She gently squeezed his testicles in sync with his movements, stroking his penis faster and faster until he released on the table.
He apologized for the unconscious act, but she interrupted: "It's alright. Just stay there. I'll clean that up." Swiftly, she got a towel and wiped down the table. "Please lie on your back, legs up and spread apart," she directed. Obeying, he complied, and she professionally cleaned him up and removed the thermometer. She used moist towelettes to clear his genitals and surrounding area.
"You may stand up now. Let's find your clothes," she urged kindly. She escorted him down the hallway, back to the weight room, and stood guard at the door as he changed. "I hope you have a lovely rest of your day. Remember to visit me in the future," she said sweetly before heading back to her office.
Peter couldn't believe his good fortune and found every opportunity to see the school nurse after that.
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