Encounter with the Schoolmarm : A Victorian tale of pain, domination and female empowerment (JPECHO#07)

Man enters a schoolhouse to be unexpectedly dominated by his stern ex-teacher

SPOILER: Young Victorian iron worker reminisces in the pub with his friends over Miss. Savage, the fierce old School-Mistress from their childhood who is still terrorising the village kids. On his drunken way home he finds himself outside the old schoolhouse. Seeing lights on he enters recalling his bad memories of his schooling and the cruel sadistic Schoolmarm. Suddenly a loud domineering voice from his nightmares shouts out and he whirls to see the harsh School-teacher from his past, now a short, slender, grey-haired old lady. Her provocative clothings and arrogant manner combined with the alcohol causes him to grab the woman in his arms. Demonstrating amazing defensive skills the shockingly aggressive old woman overwhelms him and tries to cane him. Rebelling he fights back but finds the old Schoolmarm too good a fighter and falls under her dominance.
(c)Jim P 2016

Good to hear from you, Jim. Yes, we should meet up when things are less hectic. Project Gabriel examined how women in the past adopted roles of combat par excellence contrary to the preconceptions of the time. The army wanted to understand what made an otherwise ordinary woman a fearful fighter so this could be applied to modern training. Knowing your interest in the subject I enclose an interesting case from the Victorian era in a iron-working village near Ironbridge, Shropshire.
Yours Sincerely,
General Philip Warpinton.
***
Working at the blast furnaces smelting iron all day long gives one a thirst that one or two pints of beer just cannot quench. So it was not surprising to find me in The Red Lion with the lads supping ale after a hard day’s graft for naff-all pay. Harry was going on about his nipper’s first day at school. I wasn’t paying much attention as I’m not even married let alone got kids of my own. There was only one school in the village. We’d all gone there when we were young and hated it.

Sited at the edge of the village, the small single-storey red-brick building with a double slate-tiled roof had two schoolrooms. One small in which Miss Savage taught, the other much larger which a succession of teachers, sometimes male, occupied. I remembered with a chill in my bones those tall windows that lit up the barely furnished rooms yet positioned high up to prevent you seeing out of. The high-ceilinged rooms lit by gaslight were gloomy and stuffy.

School began at 9.00am and ended at 5.00pm with a two hour lunch break so kids could go home for a midday meal, except those from outlying farms who remained at school. Condemned at 5 years old, you suffered until you reached 12. A low brick wall enclosed the small playground penning in children like sheep. Waist-high to a man, they could have easily jumped it and escaped to freedom. That was something you only tried once for the teachers were very strict and very scary. I think they only became teachers because of their extreme hatred of children so that they could exercise their physical and mental sadism with the full blessing of the state. Kids soon learnt to do what the teacher asked or they’d get a rap across the knuckles with a ruler, or a clip around the ears, if they were lucky. The favoured instrument of discipline was the cane or the strap which was delivered with relish for the slightest misdemeanour. Perhaps it is then unsurprising that teachers were usually unmarried ladies. Dried up prunes who a man would never bed, taking out their inability to mother on the offspring of others.

My ears suddenly picked up something Harry was saying. “Miss Savage was barking orders at the little kiddies and glaring at them like she could turn water to ice” He said as a shiver went down my spine. “Christ! I nearly wet myself when she dismissed me with a sharp rebuke and a frightening stare, the old sourpuss”. “The old witch is still alive?” I gasped feeling badly shaken. “Aye and still ruling those kids with an iron hand” he replied. “Came from Coven Heath that one, I wager” Mark added. “She still makes me shake with fear, and I ain’t set foot in that place for nigh on 12 years” Matthew said. He and me were of the same age. “God! The old crone really had it in for you didn’t she Peter?” He chuckled. “Aye that was the truth of it for I was no more a rapscallion than any other lad yet I was laid across her lap more than most” I muttered into my beer recalling the feel of my belly laying across her firm upper thigh covered by a long skirt as she raised it and crossed her knee with my shorts pulled down around my legs.

“Do you remember what we called her?” Harry asked “Aye, Iron-hand” Mark replied. “Lord could she wield that cane like it were an iron poker” he reminisced “She’d tan your hide so raw you couldn’t sit down for at least a week without crying and that’s the truth”. “No wonder she never got married”  Matthew said “real scary looking lady”. I remembered her small narrow shrew-like face with a large prominent nose and a wide thin-lipped mouth always set in stern disapproval. Small beady brown eyes glared coldly from behind a large pair of horn-rimmed glasses that magnified them making them even scarier. Arching above these, her eyebrows were thick and dark while her long mousey-brown hair was worn up in a bun adding to the austere look. Prim and proper, Miss Savage wore a simple full length black skirt with a high collar white cotton blouse fully buttoned at all times while upon her feet were stout flat boots. “Let me tell you, time has made no improvements” Harry remarked. “That voice” I shuddered with the memory. Miss Savage had a terrifying loud strict voice that demanded absolute obedience.

“And what was it with those corsets?” Mark asked. “How could I forget those?” I remarked. The stays the stern woman wore imparted a remarkably exaggerated hour-glass figure with a wasp-like waist while accentuating a large bosom. Too young to appreciate it at the time, my pubescent self often recalled that remarkable figure looming over me as she scrutinised my work for the slightest of errors with that massive white cliff face thrusting forward as it poised above me looking as stiff as rock. So big, so heaving, so strangely exhilarating a thing for such a frightening stern woman to possess. I am ashamed to admit that magnificent bosom kept me awake during my formative years with rather unfortunate discharges in the night. “Time Gentlemen please” the barman called and with a sigh we downed our last pints then went to the gents to empty our bladders before saying our farewells and departing for home.

Light-headed and giddy with the ale, it took me a few minutes of confusion before I realised that I was walking down a poorly lit street nowhere near home. There were lights on in a building ahead so I headed there to get my bearings. To my surprise I found myself outside the low walls of the schoolhouse looking lonely and forbidding in the dark. Maybe it had been all that talk in the pub that had drawn me here. I should have turned and walked home but curiosity got the better of me. Why were the lights on? Who would be there at this late hour? It was far too late for the cleaners and they daren’t forget to turn off the lights when they left. Maybe some ne’er-do-wells were robbing the place. Well I’d soon sort them out, I decided and opened the gate then headed across the playground to the entrance door around the side of the building.

Entering the small narrow hall with its rows of hooks and low wooden stools for removing dirty shoes brought it all back in a rush. The brick walls were painted green from waist height to the wooden floorboards and white to the high ceiling above. Caught up in a sea of memories I opened the rough wooden inner door. Curiosity mixed with nervousness as I entered the smaller schoolroom. Separated from the much larger room by just a curtain it now seemed to my eyes small and cramped. Four long iron-framed desks bolted to the floor faced the front of the room in rows. The bench seats were so closely aligned that I doubted that my modern self could ever squeeze between them to sit on the unforgiving wood. The wooden table top allowed room only for a slate-board and inkwell for each student with a narrow groove for pen and chalk. Here I would have sat facing the wooden blackboard and teacher’s desk where the bell rested on a small shelf. A globe for learning geography and an abacus for mathematics stood near by. A tall black iron pot from the foundries sat in the corner, with the curving handles of the canes as visible deterrent to free will. To the right was the old fireplace and boiler that I rarely remembered being lit. “Hardiness builds character” I could hear her strident voice lecturing one unfortunate who dared complain of the cold. “It will be warm enough once you get in those iron-mills, mark my words”. The room was sparse and utilitarian. It’s tall walls completely barren other than maps of Britain and the Empire and, in pride of place, a portrait of Queen Victoria, God save the Queen.

It was such a dismal gloomy place designed to crush the spirit and souls of working class kids that I felt quite mournful. I perched cautiously on the end of one of the benches, the alcohol haze clouding my brain, looking up at the forlorn walls with depressing memories of what had seemed an eternity of suffering in this hell-hole instead of enjoying my childhood. Surely that was the right of all children? And not be subject to this institutionalised torture to suppress the masses while their fathers killed themselves slowly at the foundry for bugger-all pay helping some rich upper-class bastard make himself even richer. The bitterness rose as I recalled being a small kid in this God-forsaken place with the terrifying old dragon with the large bust and pinched waist towering over me like a giantess, her small piercing eyes glaring down upon me through her spectacles. A stern disciplinarian only too keen to use the cane to beat compliance into me. The ghosts of a raw bleeding backside stoked my resentment towards figures of authority and women in particular.

Nervous unease filled me, like a naughty child afraid of being caught in this place now denied as an adult. It was Harry’s fault mentioning Miss Savage after all these years. I couldn’t even remember her Christian name or whether she even had one. Eleanor, Prudence it would be something like that. Something with allusions to the middle classes while preaching servitude to the rest of us. I tried to laugh at my nervousness, it was only the alcohol talking. I was no longer a cowering kid but a strong fully grown man. How old must she be now? In her late 60’s if not more? Nothing for a man to be afraid of except her sharp tongue and wagging finger.

“You lad!” the loud commanding voice from my past that used to give me nightmares made me jump. “You have no business being here. Explain yourself” I spun around in horror at the voice I’d never thought I’d hear again only to see a short slim old greying woman. She’d must have been in the other schoolroom and had snuck up quietly. She recognised me before I her. “Peter Shelduck. I always knew that you were a bad penny” a knowing smirk appeared on the wide thin-lipped cruel mouth pushing up her harsh cheekbones either side of a long prominent nose. “And here you are like a thief in the night and like a thief you shall be treated”. There was no mistaking that strict commanding voice or her stern face. “Miss Savage!” I gasped as irrational fear took hold of me. My mouth became dry and my heart beat faster in my chest while starting to sweat. The thin face of the woman showed it’s age looking more haggard and lined with wrinkles than I remembered. Her hair was still worn in a tight bun at the back of the head but now was predominately grey.

“I’m no thief Marm” I found the courage to speak up for myself “I saw the lights on and thought to check naught was amiss”. The severe old woman just glared at me with small beady eyes through large spectacles folding her arms across her chest. An arrogant smirk graced her thin mouth as though she had caught a naughty boy in the act and was enjoying making him squirm. Minding my manners I rose, somewhat unsteadily, in the presence of a lady and was somewhat taken aback by her lack of height. The haughty old woman was a lot shorter than I recalled. As a kid Miss Savage was a terrifying towering giantess but now that I was 24 and 5 foot 10 tall I saw that in truth she stood only 5 foot 2 inches, a slender frail old crone. What a cold hard woman she was, as unfriendly and stern as cold steel on shattered glass. There was nothing likeable about her cold aloof authoritarian arrogance. Even the way she addressed me was demeaning and spiked.

“An unlikely story as you live in the South of the village” The lines creased her harsh ageing face as the knowing smirk got wider as though she had caught me out. “Well, you see…” I began to explain when the old harridan interrupted. “Ah!” her sharp exclamation resounded in the austere schoolroom while raising her left hand and extending her index finger into the air. “Silence is golden” she said. I found myself automatically falling quiet nervously awaiting her displeasure. “Maybe all that alcohol I can smell on your breath has rotted your brains and you lost your bearings from the Inn” she said with cutting sarcasm, her small cold eyes glinting with amusement. “You’ve been drinking. Haven’t you?” she accused, wrinkling her nose as if I had just trodden in something nasty. Inexplicitly I found myself behaving like my younger self, flushing and hanging my head with shame while muttering “Yes, Marm”. Her thin mouth widened in a grim smirk of victory. “Ah-ha! Now we get to the bottom of it. In your drunken stupor you came in here to perform thievery in order to fuel your addiction to the bottle” she crowed. “I am no thief!” I protested. The old crow ignored me, scolding “Drink is the enemy of the working man”.

Looking at the belligerent old woman as she berated me, her slim hour-glass figure with the pinched waist and large thrusting shelf-like bosom was more exhilarating than my pubescent dreams. Yes she was a wrinkly sour-faced little bitch but my eyes wandered over her exaggerated feminine figure with strong stirrings of lust. An emotion that I never thought I’d have for the spiteful arrogant old hag outside my hormonal teenage dreams. Maybe it was the alcohol slowing down my brain or the shock of seeing this nightmare from my past but only then did I notice her unusual attire. Shimmering shiny patterns of shifting light reflected from a white high-collar silk blouse as it stretched over the wide protruding cliff that was her bust, contrasting with the small waist beneath. It came as quite a shock to see such a prudish woman wearing something quite so sensual and softly feminine. Despite her harsh gaze burrowing into my skin, I lowered my eyes and was astounded to see a long black skirt made of leather. Highly sensual, the soft smooth clean polished appearance suggested higher quality than it’s use for safety clothes. It too reflected the light in a provocative and exciting manner that stirred the loins giving me the urge to reach down and run my hands all over it. Although Miss Savage’s gaze could make a rose bush wither and die, I let my eyes sink to the hem of her mesmerising skirt. The prudish righteous ways of the Schoolmarm were well known so I was astonished to see the toes and arches of high-heeled black leather boots so highly polished and reflective that it were clear that these were for fashion rather than working boots. The toes were also narrow and sharply pointed for no obvious practical purpose I could fathom.

“You interrupted my exercises” the hard-faced woman declared haughtily seeing my lingering gaze upon the soft sensual clothing that had transformed her slender aged body into a desirable figure of reflective high sheen that called directly to my groin. The way that shiny silk blouse clung to her huge bust drove me to distraction. No less was the effect of the way the leather skirt tightly moulded itself to the outline of her hips, rear and thighs with an animal attractiveness. Stiffness spread across my groin despite the withering gaze of the old grey-haired crone and I realised that I had been wrong. There was indeed one very likeable quality about this cold-hearted nag and that was her tantalising slender hour-glass figure with the huge bust. Before I could ask what sort of exercises would a lady do dressed like, she snapped “Are you leering at my body, boy? Avert your eyes you drunken deviant”. Her voice was never softly-spoken and strident as her appearance. “For I now clearly see what sort of man you have become” her shrew-like face snarled in malice. “A masher, a pervert, a raper of women. Do you intend to rape me,lad?” her scathing tirade continued. “For I warn you that you will be sorely sorry” she warned, her voice hard with menace.

There was something about this nasty old lady as she stood before me verbally lashing me with her tongue. Even though I was now looking down at this nightmare from my past, she was not cowed by my height or strong build but projected self-righteous confidence in her own authority and superiority that was oddly stimulating. Maybe it was the alcohol or the alluring shiny clothes that emphasised her very feminine body, for never normally would I lay hands uninvited upon a lady and certainly never one as old as this harsh looking crone. Yet suddenly that slim body was in my arms as I pulled her against me afraid to hold her too tight for she seemed so delicate. The feel of her ample bosom against my belly made my senses soar while her slender body yielded to my arms. Giddy with the elicit touch of a woman’s body and her expensive but subtle perfume in my nostrils I slid my hands down to her posterior, amazed at how compact, firm and rounded her buttocks felt beneath the seat of the tightly clinging leather skirt. Miss Savage did not scream or struggle but glared with steely ferocity with a wide knowing smirk upon her lips. “And there you have it. The animal urge of the uneducated” She exclaimed with venom. “I..I’m sorry” I said and began to withdraw my hands feeling ashamed.

“Will you throw me down and take a respectable lady upon the floor like a horny dog?” The old crone accused vindictively as her large bosom heaved with indignation. “Respectable!” I cried. “What sort of respectable lady wears a polished blacksmith’s apron as a skirt?” I snarled in her face slapping my hands back upon her leather-clad rump then running my hands around that firm compact peach with relish. I was amazed by how sexy it felt and how it made the stiffness in my groin grow. Pulling her slender body tight against me I stared into her beady eyes hoping to see fear but instead there was just haughty cold arrogance. “You have heard of the suffragettes?” She began to lecture even though I was caressing her in my arms. I had but could not believe that she would be having with any of that modern nonsense. “And Mrs. Pankhurst’s all-women Bodyguard?” she continued oblivious to the fact that I was enjoying feeling the leather sheathing her backside. I had heard tales of a gang of super-strong Amazons who could throw Policemen around like skittles and whom the Government were sorely afraid. But I did not believe such nonsense. “Scare stories told by feminists to gain the vote” I muttered in dismissal. An amused smirk appeared on her shrew-like face before continuing making no attempt to struggle. “Mrs. Regina Wendover-Thompson herself recommended to me the virtues of leather for its primal sensuality to confuse the male of the species and it’s stout-worthiness during battle”. I assumed she meant the struggle to give women the vote.

She pointedly glanced down at her large bust and my eyes automatically followed. Oh Lord the size of it thrusting out like a wide shelf shimmering in silk tantalised my dick making it soar uncontrollably. “What sort of decent lady wears such a provocative blouse?” I cry sliding my hands up that hour-glass figure, my fingers tingling as they slid over the silk aware that beneath was the body of a living breathing woman. That thought stayed my hands from moving closer to that statuesque bust shimmering like spun silver. The smirk on her lips wavered between amusement and disdain “One who can befuddle the senses of a drunken simpleton like you” she snapped with callous spite. Her incessant degrading scolding made me lose my temper. “Why you shrivelled old crow” I cry. “No wonder you never married, you don’t know what love is. You’ve never had the touch of a man to ignite your cold shrivelled heart. I bet you are gagging for it. That’s why you are dressed like this” I exclaimed then stopped shocked that I had spoken thus. The sound of cackling laughter shook me for I’d never knew her capable of it. “What need have I of marriage? I do not wish to have children and I have suitors plenty down on their knees begging me to be their mistress” she laughed. “By the look of you I think you will do the same”.

I was about to tell her never when she thrust her bosom against me in a most exciting aggressive manner. “Do you think you could handle these?” she asked looking down at her massive silk-sheathed bust with a wicked grin. “Most men do”. “Orrrr!” I groaned at the sight of temptation writ large. Those forward thrusting peaks called to me and I could not resist placing my hands upon the vast silky slopes. Expecting objection all I received was a bemused smirk as I tried to cup the massive overhang. “Bigger than you can handle, aren’t they lad?” she sneered. “Orrr! So big” I groaned. Never had I handled a woman with breasts anywhere near as large low-slung and as wide as these forbidden fruit. “Heavy aren’t they?” she stated with cold emotion. “Orrr yes!” I groaned unable to contain my stiffening resolve as my hands gave the contents of her blouse a good feel. Her body felt good pressed up against me with her soft pliable breasts beneath soft silk in my hands, like a real woman should be. “Orrr! You may be a shrivelled old shrew but your body makes me so hard” I groaned unable to stop running my hands in amazement over the double pointed breasts held so stiff by her brassiere pointing towards me, a wide heavy shelf that was too big to cup in my hands. “What a pair! What a pair!” I repeated struck with awe and soaring lust. “Orrr! such a waste” I groaned for truly was such a wonderful chest wasted on a nasty shrivelled old shrew like this. Besotted with lust I squashed and squeezed the mammoth bust enjoying the feel of the big stiff brassiere beneath the soft silk blouse. And boy did they need to be stiff for what they constrained were heavy rounded and full. “Remove your drunken hands. I am a strict teacher and demand obedience” the narrow-faced lady rebuked in a stern tone. Although short and slender she projected the haughty authority of someone who expected to be obeyed at every word. Maybe it was the alcohol or the cold authoritative air of superiority she projected but it just made her all the more desirable. In a moment of craziness I leant towards her and pressed my lips against hers. The feel of her thin aged lips sent exciting tingles that made me kiss her with more passion while continuing to cup her big bust in my hands. I expected her to put up a struggle and wriggle like a worm but no. The stern disciplinarian with cheeks so pinched it seemed she was sucking lemons just glared at me through her spectacles with an outraged expression that made me kiss her even more. She was old enough to be my grandmother and nowhere near as homely yet my cock was stiff as a poker for the emotionless buxom old crone.

Moving with a speed I never expected, the glowering shrew flung a slim arm around my elbow pulling it tight against her side then locked her forearm beneath. Instinctively I tried to pull my arm away and was shocked to find that I couldn’t. “Hai!” an unladylike shout made me jump and in disbelief saw the palm of her hand rushing towards my face. BAM! it slammed into my mouth like a steel plate, the heel punching solidly against my mouth bruising my lips and painfully flattening my nose. “Arghh!” I cried out in shock as my face was pushed sharply back with such speed that it disorientated my senses. “Hai!” I felt the swift movement of her leather skirt between my legs. WHOMP! “Aieeee!” I squealed as her knee pummelled my groin like a jack-hammer driving me to my toes. With terrible pain between my legs, I was stunned by the sudden violence and that her prudish sensibilities permitted striking a man below the belt.

My body had barely began to crumple around my injured pride, when she made that scary cry again. “Hai!” the long leather skirt unfurled with a sensual movement of light. WHOMP! “Hargg!” my breath spilled noisily as her knee struck with shocking power against my belly. Stunned to find the old woman’s knee deep within my gut, I was astonished to find myself helpless as my stomach cramped up and my lungs were unable to draw breath. I could only stare in disbelief as the old schoolmarm held onto my wrists with a grip of steel and an amused smirk before stepping back. “Hai!” I nearly wet myself as the leading edge of her sensual skirt fanned open with the toe of her boot streaking towards the apex of my legs with frightening speed. WHOMP! My mouth fell open in a noiseless scream, unable to put voice to the sharp stabbing agony flaring between my legs as the sharp-pointed toe cruelly bit into my balls.

Without pause, her skirt flicked up again to fling her right foot around my ankle. “Yah!” a jerk of her leg and my foot is swept from the floor tripping me up and sending me falling backwards. “Ouch!” I yelp as my back hits the hard wooden floorboards with my weight behind it. I am shocked to find myself on the floor at the feet of the old crone startled that she managed to trip me up like that. With dismay I watch the light reflect from the surface of highly polished black leather boots peeking out from the hem of the skirt of the elderly woman who had shamed me. A cackle made me look up, my eyes longingly following the difference between slender hips, pinched waist then out again to large bust. Above this the bemused harsh-faced old shrew smirked in victory. “See how the empowered modern woman defends herself from a masher” her authoritative voice crowed in triumph.

Looking up from the floor, that stirring leather skirt and the mountain front of a bust left no-doubt that I had been humiliated by a woman. The leather clung provocatively to the outline of her legs and hips making her seem dominant, contrasting in an exciting manner with the silky softness of her blouse. The pulsing ache in my groin and winded belly was testament to the unexpected violence she had inflicted. Not only had I thought it impossible for such a cultured and aged lady to be capable of such abilities, the astonishing confident manner in which she delivered blow after blow in quick succession left me stunned. The knowledge that she could ably defend herself made her seem somehow exciting which I found arousing. “A woman’s self-defence is not for the faint-hearted” the narrow-faced shrew sneered with wry amusement. “Urr…” I failed not to groan at the pain in my belly as I sat up at her feet. “You struck me below the belt” I complained. “Needs must when the honour of a lady is to be protected” she smirked with amusement over her large heaving bosom. I knew the trouble she could cause for me and thought it best to appease her. “Please Marm. I apologise with great remorse at my poor behaviour which I can only attribute to over-consumption of alcohol”. With a wry smile, she stretched out her arm and extended a finger directly at me. “Apology accepted but still you must be punished!” she proclaimed in frightening tones. “Get up to your feet and bend over the front desk this instant” she demanded. “But…No!” I spluttered with outrage. “I will spare you lowering your trousers if you wish although that will give little challenge for age has only strengthened my caning arm” She snarled with obvious relish that made her narrow harsh face even crueller. I was having none of it and began to rise to my feet. Without warning she reached out and grabbed my left ear then gave it a sharp twist. “Ouch! Ouch!” I yelped as she twisted my ear in a grip of steel that threatened to rip it right off. It was like a nightmare come true as the nastiest teacher in the school led me by the ear with a satisfied smirk. Forced to bend forwards at the waist the old crone gave me no choice but to hobble at her side with my head bowed level with her stiff bust as she led me to the front row of desks. The familiarity was all too real as she lowered my ear towards the desk forcing me to lean right over with my backside sticking in the air ready for horrible painful ritual humiliation.

“This is going to hurt you more than it will hurt me” the phrase awoke dread memories as the evil woman reached over and pulled out a dreaded cane. The thin flexible stick was made from rattan and I saw the look of excited anticipation in her cold eyes. “Hold still boy. You are going to get six of the best” I found myself trembling as the wicked instrument rose into the air. Stern and joyless in her silk blouse and leather skirt, old iron-hand prepared to deliver 6 brutal weals along with the accompanying bruises that would last many days after the immediate pain had worn off. “No! I’m not a little boy, I’m not going to stand for it!” Fear and indignation made me act. Standing up straight I whirled around and managed to grab the cane before she could wield it. Her grip was as strong as her nickname suggested and I struggled to retain hold. Fumbling my grasp, the cane fell to the floor. “Hah! There lies your torture device for children. It is cruel and should be banned. What do you think of that?” I swelled relieved it was no longer in her hand. Miss Savage glared at me through her spectacles with her face pinched like she was sucking on sour grapes. “The punishment of children is entrusted to me through law. When you knock that cane from my hands, you insult the British Government and The Queen herself. God save The Queen” “God save The Queen” I muttered. Her wide lips widened into a scary predatory smile. “Pick up that cane and return it to my hand and no-one need hear of your treason” her words were cold and cunning but instead of gaining my obedience it stoked the flames of my insurrection.

I pointed to the cane on the floor. “Without that in your hands you are just a sad little old lady defenceless and weak. I am no longer afraid of you” I proclaimed. “Really? And what do you intend to do to this weak defenceless old lady?” she mocked with a smirk upon her wrinkled face. Her small hands darted out as fast as snakes, enclosing my wrists in a surprisingly firm grip then pulled my palms onto her large protruding bosom. Her wide low-slung slopes were so magnificent that I couldn’t bring myself to remove them. “I shall now demonstrate the scientific method to remove your groping hand from my chest” she announced. With a quick twist of her right wrist I was shrieking in agony as lances of pain shot through my elbow and into my arm. “Eeyoww!” It felt like my wrist would shatter and splinter. I couldn’t believe that a little old lady could render me helpless with just a simple twist of the wrist. It was like a bad drunken dream. “Observe how by means of this grip I can twist your elbow joint and readily break it if I so wish” the thin-faced shrew lectured, looking so strict that a twinge went through my dick.

“Alternatively. To render you powerless I only have to bend your wrist forcibly forwards and to the side” She explained. “Yeeouch!” I yelped as she bent my hand double while forcing me to lean over towards her side. “Argh argh!” she was going to break my wrist! I pride myself on my physical condition wrought strong from working hard in the forges yet this smirking little old authoritarian was overpowering me with ease. “Argh!” I yelp as she twists my arm then pressed her right hand against the back of the shoulder joint. “Arghh! No no please!” she forced me to double over in fear of a dislocated shoulder and a splintered elbow. The wooden desktop came up fast and I turned my face to avoid smashing it only for my cheek to be pressed against the rough surface. “Do you remember how I used to do this to you?” the old crone asked as if reminiscing a treasured memory. A long buried memory arose recalling when indeed she used the same punishment on a young boy with the pain as my cheek was forced against the desk and the feeling that my arm was was about to shatter. “With this arm-hold I can break your arm in several places by applying simple pressure like so” “Argh! No no!” I cried as my arm began to bend back the wrong way. A cruel chuckle left her thin lips although thankfully she did not follow the demonstration through. Instead she kept me in that degrading position letting me suffer while she exerted full control over me with a simple twist of my arm. “Thus are you rendered into submission by the dominance of a woman” she proudly proclaimed. “It would be inadvisable to attempt escape as you would only break your arm” She informed me. It was indeed a humiliating position to be in and I prayed no-one would walk in and see me thus. As the cruel woman continued to stand over me exerting her dominance, I found myself very aroused.

“I can do anything I want to you and you are powerless to stop me” I felt her body press against my backside then her leather skirt slipped between my legs and spread them wide. “Hai!” WHUMP! “Aieeee!” the shin of her boot swung up between my legs crushing my balls like a cricket bat. As I suffered in agony, the wicked old shrew maintained her domination of my arm keeping my wrist twisted and arm straight driving my cheek hard into the desk. “Hai!” WHAP! “Arghh!” the edge of her hand struck just above my elbow. My arm tingled with numbness and with alarm I felt the domineering woman bend my arm and wrist in a tight bundle behind my back. “Come with me, Peter” the sadistic old bitch barked then without further ado led me away keeping me folded sharply forward at the waist. “Argh! Argh!” every jarring movement threatened to break my arm in several places. Relishing her control over me, the old schoolmarm furthered my embarrassment by manhandling me across the room with deliberate slowness towards the curtain separating the schoolrooms. “As you can feel, muscle is no match for the scientific method” she lectured in smug tones slowly propelling me towards the separating curtain. That gave me plenty of time to savour the humiliating position that I was in with no way out that did not involve breaking my arm. She may be a little old woman but she was in complete control and disturbingly that kept me very stiff.

Entering the larger room I am puzzled by thick matting covering the floor at the rear. “This is where I perform my exercises” she informed me. “Now I will perform them upon you” she added glaring at me over the top of her glasses with a gaze that surely could turn a man to stone. “Let me show you the true meaning of female empowerment” She stated in a sharp tone, her narrow chin lifting slightly in arrogance. An act that only highlighted the wrinkly nature of the skin beneath her chin and made unflattering cords stand out in her thin neck.

“Hai!” the edge of her hand struck hard upon the base of my bowed neck. WHOP! Fire seared throughout my nerves. My face flew back with my eyes creased in agony as stars and black patches filled my vision as my neck and shoulders stiffened and hunched. “Hai!” her long leather skirt rushes towards my face. BLAM! “Arghhh!” I taste leather as her knee mashes my mouth. Her knee continues to climb, driving my face upwards with bruising force. The blow is so powerful that my body snaps up straight in the blink of an eye as my head flies back over my shoulder. I stagger backwards trying desperately not to fall over.

“Pathetic” The pinched hour-glass figure blurred by my tears of pain spat in derision. “Is that really the best you can do?” The vicious woman sneered with a wide mocking smirk. Stern and severe Miss Savage was dominant and supreme. Although short in statue and noticeably aged, her harsh but undoubted femininity was emphasised by that shimmering silk blouse clinging to a massive bosom contrasting with a small pinched waist, together with the long black leather skirt and high-heeled leather boots made sensual by the way the light played off the highly polished surface. As the austere woman glared coldly through her large spectacles I had a really strong unnatural desire for her. “Come on lad, are you going to let a little old lady beat you up?” she taunted with a tight pout of her lips. “Wait until I tell Joan the village gossip of your humiliating demise” She chuckled.

That the smirking cruel old hag had humiliated me with a few wrestling tricks that she must have read in a book was shameful enough but to spread the knowledge around was malicious. The combination of rage and the unusual desires I had for her made me approach her and pull her slender body into a close embrace. The aged woman reacted without hesitation. “Hai!” both hands swung in towards me upon either side, open-palmed and stiff-fingered. WHUMP! The sides of her hands chopped my lower ribs. “Orrpph!” I groaned as the wind was sharply knocked out of me. “Hai!” her small hand shot forwards clenched in a tight fist. WHOMP! WHOMP! Fist after fist strike in rapid succession. “Woarrrrgh!” I cry at the solid strong punches that pound my gut in a very unladylike fashion. WHOMP! WHOMP! They keep hammering with no time to catch my breath, much stronger than a lady had a right to be. WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP. Her fists pound my belly like a punch bag at a terrifying pace, sinking deep into my gut. “Do I take your breath away, Peter?” she sneered as she watched me crumple up in cramped agony.

In horror I find myself so badly winded that I am helpless as the arrogantly smirking biddy grabs my right arm then whips it up behind my back with such violence I was afraid she would dislocate my shoulder and break my arm. “Hai!” WHAM! I screamed silently as her hard knee slammed into the small of my back with such force that she almost dislocated my back. “With the scientific method, a woman with brains can easily defeat a man with muscle” The stern disciplinarian lectured from behind as I grasped my back which flared with agonising pain. “I am a dominant woman and you will submit to my dominance” she arrogantly declared then grasped my hair and pulled my head right back. “Hai!” her knee drove into the back of my right knee kicking my leg forward from the floor while pulling me backwards by my hair. The back of my leg bumped into her thigh positioned right behind me tripping me up. WHUMP! “Nnnrffhhh!” I hissed landing hard on my backside in an undignified heap at her feet. “Just see how I sweep you off your feet” the tricky old woman cackled. Her hand shot forwards like a snake and seized my wrist in a grip of steel then bent my hand hard forward. “Aghh arghh!” I gasped as she twisted my hand forcing me to roll into a humiliating position upon my stomach laying at her feet. The hard sharp pointed toe of a polished leather boot was thrust against my mouth. Raised upon a high heel the top of the foot formed a beautiful sensuous curve. “Kiss it or I will break your wrist. Your choice” she coldly declared. “Argh argh!” I yelped as she bent my hand. I had no choice, my wrist was on the point of shattering and so puckered up my lips and kissed the toe of the boot before me. “Again!” she ordered “with more feeling”. With my wrist in agony, I grovelled at her feet kissing the toe and the side of her foot as she directed with barked orders like an Army drill sergeant. She was a harsh disciplinarian and I was taken aback by how utterly helpless I was and found my manhood growing all the stiffer as I grovelled stomach down on the floor at her feet. As if that humiliation wasn’t enough, she stepped the sole of her boot on my cheek and forced me to lick the high heel positioned in front of my mouth as she brutally tormented my hand some more.

“There!” she exclaimed in a self-righteous tone as she finally released me. “A simple but effective demonstration of the dominant superiority of women” she lectured as I got to my knees nursing my injured wrist. “If a man lays his hands on me unasked, I will harm him most severely” She declared pompously then added “And not a cane in sight”. I looked up at her standing over me glaring down at me through her large spectacles with derision. I didn’t understand how the scary harsh-faced woman was able to do these things to me. It almost seemed like magic yet it filled me with an unnatural desire to be restrained by her in one of those extraordinary armlocks increasing my arousal as she dominated but as play before worshipping and making love to her. “Please Marm I apologise for my earlier actions caused through inebriation” I tried to placate the harsh cold-glaring schoolmarm while getting to my feet. “Ha!” she spat out a demeaning laugh. “Is that why you are constantly staring at my body?” she accused “With visible lust in your trousers”. I was scandalised as this respectable pillar of society reached out and placed her hand upon the front of my trousers and gave the stiff bulge that had formed there a good firm feel. “Orrr!” I groaned in shock at the mean woman’s hand upon my manhood. The firm grip of her small wrinkled hand was not hard enough to be uncomfortable but made it grow even stiffer. Under her withering gaze I lowered my eyes over that large forward-thrusting bust and that sexy leather skirt and realised that what she said was true. I wanted to run my hands over her silk blouse and give those big breasts a good working over while I humped away at her leather-clad thigh like a dog in heat. “Look at you” the wrinkled hard-faced woman smirked “Every time you look at me your cock throbs in your pants” She was so strict and stern that I dared not object as her hand gently stroked my bulge. I felt disappointment as she removed her hand but dared not speak out. “You desire this body?” She stated bluntly. “Then attack me” She astounded me with her words. “If you can overwhelm me, you can run your hands over this magnificent body that you can only dream of having and take me anyway that you desire”. Maybe it was the alcohol but I really wanted to sink myself inside the wicked old bitch and put a smile on her severe face. “Failure to do so will result in your treason being reported to the proper authorities” she added.

That clinched it. Without a second thought I made a grab for the cold-hearted old crow. Surprisingly she moved into my arms turning herself sideways on and slipping her right arm around my waist in an unusually intimate manner. “Orrrr!” I groaned as a leather-clad buttock slid across my groin as she turned to step her right leg in front of me while seizing my other wrist. Without warning the little old crone bent forwards at the waist. For a split-second there was an electric thrill as her hip pushed sharply against my groin but with alarm I found my feet leave the floor as I fell forward across the old woman’s leather-clad hip. “No!” I cried momentarily looking down at the floor while my legs rose behind me pivoting over her hip. Terrified, my body arced around her slim hip with great speed, my head plummeting towards the floor as my legs curled over behind me. Within a heartbeat I had flipped right over with my back facing the onrushing floor. BERLAM! “arghhh!” I slammed heavily against the thick mat on the floor. I lay looking up at the ceiling as my back burned completely unable to get my head around what just happened. She had just thrown me! A frail looking old lady had thrown me like a rag doll! Suddenly the old shrew had become much more dangerous than just her sharp tongue. The haughty narrow-faced grey-haired woman was now truly terrifying possessing strange wrestling skills.

“Up, lad! Sharpish or I’ll break your wrist!” It was only then I realised that the cruel cow retained hold of my wrist as she stood smugly over me and now proceeded to bend my hand back at the wrist. “Argh! No no!” I screamed as it felt that it would shatter. “That was a truly pathetic attempt” the harsh hard-hearted woman snarled looking down her long prominent nose at me. “Is that the best you can do? Pathetic” she sneered “Try again and put some effort into it or next time I will break your wrist such that it will never heal properly” her harsh tongue and brutal wrist-lock brooked no argument. Miss Savage was in complete control as she forced me to my feet, once again humiliated and utterly helpless. The way she could control me with just a twist of the wrist and throw me around liked I weighed nothing, was like nothing I had ever encountered. She was no tough working woman who could exchange fists as good as any man but a small slender ageing middle-class lady. That she was not only dominant in speech but physically too was strangely exciting and highly arousing. The wide victorious smirk on her lips pushing up the high flat cheekbones on her craggy lined face irked me so much that no sooner had she released my hand than I threw myself at her to try and take her by surprise.

Slamming myself into the body of the arrogant high-handed woman, my larger bulk forces her up against a row of desks where I pin her with my bodyweight. A sudden crazy urge to see her humongous breasts makes me start to rip open her silk blouse. “Cease! Desist!” she shrieks struggling to stop me but her small hands can’t dislodge mine. Buttons come flying off as the soft shimmering blouse parts from the neck down to reveal large rounded orbs of sexy womanhood cupped in place by a scandalously purple lacy brassier. The sight of such massive breasts enclosed in the stiff garment makes me stop and stare with absurdly rigid lust. “Orrrr Miss Savage!” I groan, my hard dick throbbing in my trousers for the wrinkly old shrew. “You are magnificent” I lean forwards to kiss her passionately on her dry old lips but she turns her face aside from my advances with a glare that could freeze water. “Hai!” a white blur streaked towards me. WHAP!. The edge of her hand, held open with the fingers straight chopped against the base of my neck like an axe. “Argh!” I cried as fire seared through my nerves causing the tendons in my neck to strain tight as my shoulders bunched up. My fingers fell from her blouse as my arms went stiff and shook violently. For a moment I feared that I was having an epileptic fit although I never had one before. “The modern woman must be an expert in Savate as well as Jujutsu” the scary woman crowed smugly.

I didn’t understand the foreign sounding names nor how an elderly woman could disable me with this strange affliction just by striking me with just the side her open hand. With great unease at this wooziness I was powerless to stop the strict arrogant high-handed old crone pushing me away. With a fierce look upon her wrinkled face she moved in a stiff aggressive manner into a confrontational stance with legs wide, fanning the leather skirt, and both hands raised open palmed, fingers stiff like axe blades. Fixing me with a ferocious stare, she held the pose like a pugilist awaiting combat that actually made me feel nervous. “Hai!” her right hand flashed towards me like a lightning bolt and a short sharp edge-of-hand blow struck the other side of my neck. WHAP! “Argh!” searing pain and my senses darkened towards a faint with a sickly sour taste in my mouth. In horror I felt myself edge towards passing out. Oh God no! I can’t let a little old woman knock me out! I’d never live down the shame. Like a nightmare, my body was swaying around feeling light-head, blind and desperately clinging onto consciousness.

“How dare you tear my blouse!” an aged female voice shouted at me in anger. A steely hand seized my left wrist and raised it into the air as she swiftly turned her back on me. My eyes admired how her leather skirt moulded itself to the shape of her small compact backside. Then suddenly I was pulled close to her back as she pulled my arm down over her shoulder. The stiffness in my dick soared as she thrust that sexy leather-clad backside into my groin, a most arousing sensation as she bent forwards pushing that arse harder against my groin. “Woah!” I cried in alarm as my feet left the floor as I was lifted onto her slender back looking over her shoulder with my aching dick in full contact with her behind for the fleetest of moments. “No!” With dizzying speed I was flying over her shoulder, tumbling through the air at a terrifying rate helpless to stop it. The room span wildly around me until I sensed the floor rush up to meet my back. BERLAM! “Orrph!” the heavy impact of my body crashing into the thick mats knocks the wind from me.

She threw me! She did it again and threw me! The old crone destroyed me so bad that all I can do is lie there waiting for the room to stop spinning. That Miss Savage was so skilled in combat  had made my cock so hard it was upright in my pants pushing up a throbbing tent in my trousers. “Ha! Just look at you” a harsh aged voice barked “Whenever I soundly beat you, you get a massive erection”. As my head slowly stops spinning, I look up at the terrifying lady who had vanquished me in such a dramatic fashion although small, slender and aged. It was true that being thoroughly dominated by such a respectable lady had stoked my manhood to excess. “How?” I gasp barely able to get the words out. However she is not listening but examining the state of her blouse as it hangs wide open either side of her large stuffed brassiere. “Maybe the seamstress can do something with this” she says to herself lifting one side and examining it. Fully exposed is a deep dark cleavage with soft mounds piled high either side. “Orrr!” I groaned for she may look like an old crone but she had a truly beautiful rack that could get any red-bloodied man rock hard. “I suppose I did ask you to try harder” she conceded.

The sight of those big beauties had me on my feet again with rampant desire. The thin-faced woman fixed me with an expectant stare and proudly puffed up her magnificent chest as if I needed more encouragement. “Orrr!” I groaned at the sight of so much female cleavage and stepped forwards reaching for the objects of my desire. Miss Savage instantly threw up her hands between us. Remembering those fearful open-palmed strikes I quickly grabbed her wrists and held her arms apart so she could not use them. “Hai!” she shouted, her wrinkled face stony-faced and scary. The knee of her leather skirt lifted with the sensual shimmer of reflected light as a cruel pointed toe streaked towards the top of my legs. BLAM! “Aiiiieee!” the sole of her boot pounded my erection like a hammer while the heel drove into my nut-sack like a nail. The force of the kick was so strong that I was lifted bodily onto my toes as excruciating pain flared in my groin.

Barely had my feet returned to the floor when the smirking old hag gripped the front of my shirt with both hands. Leaning away from me her sexy leather skirt rose to plant a foot in my groin. “Woah!” I cried as she lent right back and began falling towards the floor pulling me down with her. The old shrew’s back hit the floor, her raised leg with her foot in my groin stopped my much larger weight from falling on top of her and crushing her. But her leg was strong and did not buckle under my weight. In the blink of an eye her leg straightened and with a strong surge that I felt through my groin I found my back-end lifted up into the air as her leg propelled me right over her body at great speed. In a heartbeat, my body was flipping over as my head descended towards the floor with my legs tumbling over way above me. BLAM! The floor came up fast and I was stunned to find myself lying with the wind knocked from me, thrown once more by the fierce haggard old lady. The speed and skill with which she executed that throw using her legs was beyond my comprehension. I now knew the domineering stern old schoolmistress was a far superior fighter and dangerous woman. Yet that very factor was highly arousing.

With an arrogant satisfied smirk, the fierce old battleaxe placed a foot on my chest in victory. “In my school house I am the Mistress and males the slaves” she stated, her small cold hard eyes staring like daggers behind the large-lensed glasses. I watched in fascination as the hem of her long leather skirt slid slowly up her leg to reveal the leather boots covering her shin and calves. Raised upon high heels, the reflective form-fitting boots made her lower legs seem long and unbelievably sexy. My eyes followed the beautifully feminine lines of her shins with the long gently sweeping curve of the calves behind pushing out the sensually reflecting leather into gently curved semi-tear drops. I had seen women wearing working boots but they were not as smooth and highly polished as these. They made the old woman’s legs incredibly arousing. To my surprise the hem kept rising with deliberate slowness teasing my manhood into unbelievable stiffness. “I am old enough to be your grandmother and yet your erection is hard and strong for me” she stated the truth boldly “You desire me. You will do anything for me. You will worship me”. Her brazen words went right from my mind as the hem slid over her knee with no end of the amazing boots in sight. “Long are they not?” she teased as the sexy boots curved around her knee and continued along her thighs. They reminded me of riding boots, although with those heels they would be completely impractical for that. The soft leather boots clung to the contours of her slim legs making them very sexy indeed. A very strong surge swept through my dick at this very unusual leather fashion wear. With my heart racing and sweat forming on my brow, my cock felt stiffer than it ever had, throbbing hard as the hem of her skirt slid almost to her hip. The incredibly long boots ended mid-thigh beyond which was a saucy glimpse of stocking leaving me gasping in lust. “Japanese female fighting boots” she explained. “With steel reinforced heels and a pointed toe for disembowelling” she added sending a chill down my spine.

“I can see from your expression that you want to worship my boots” the harsh-faced spectacled woman remarked. She might be a strict and dominant old crone but with those long shiny boots and that corset pinching her waist and her blouse hanging open, she was the most arousing woman that I had ever seen. I wanted her badly yet her fiercesome fighting skills terrified me as much as they aroused me. “Please Marm. You are so incredibly sexy in leather. I just want to run my hands along your boots and skirt to touch your magnificence”. A harsh dried-up chuckle left her lips, a sound I’d never have associated with the mean old crone. “That’s right lad, experience the natural dominance of a woman skilled in unarmed ccombat” she stated. The high-heeled leather sheathed boot slid from my chest towards my groin, a tower of sensual eroticism raised upon wonder arches. “I was your school mistress” the wrinkled dominant woman stated “now I am your mistress” she stated firmly “Kiss my boots of dominance. Submit to my superiority” She demanded. Towering over me in those long high-heeled boots, Miss Savage seemed like a booted Goddess, strong, powerful, commanding and extremely erotic. I was so excited being dominated by this stern grey-haired woman that I forced myself to sit up and lean forward until my lips reached part-way up her wonderful long boot. I smelt the intoxicating aroma of her leather boots as my tongue and lips worshipped those seductive boots as the leather-clad erotic goddess glared down at me scrutinizing my devotion. Never before had a woman had this strong an effect on me, and despite her age and scary looks she had me in a higher state of arousal than any woman my age. Maybe it was the allure of her sensual clothing or maybe it was her stern dominant attitude and unstoppable skills for combat, or perhaps the remains of the alcohol but this little old woman in the long boots had my cock beating so hard inside my trousers that it felt as if it would wear a hole and escape.

As I kissed her knee and upper thigh area of her boots I ran my hands up and down the back enjoying the firm feel of her calves beneath the soft tactile leather. “Beautiful, so sexy” I groaned full of hardened lust between kisses for boots were truly the sexiest things that I’d ever seen. The elegant shiny long boots transformed this haggard old schoolmarm into a Goddess filling me with achingly rampant desire. “Orrr I want you marm!” I groaned my lust ready to explode. “Mistress!” she corrected in an authoritative bark “Let me hear you say it”. At that moment I would do anything with a woman that wore such sexy form-fitting thigh-high boots. “Oh Mistress!” I groaned “I want you so bad”. I could contain myself no longer and moving the madly arousing boot from my groin, prepared to rise with unconstrained desire. The wrinkly shrew-faced woman with big glasses just smirked with wry amusement. “Orrr, you may be an old crone but you inflame my senses, such sexy boots, oh so sexy legs” I groaned running my hands once more along the sensual long leather flowing over the sweeping curves of her leg before getting to my feet. The severe narrow-face woman glared at me through her big spectacles with haughty expectation then pointed a finger at me. “If you want me, come and get me. If you are able” she smirked.

As if needing a red rag for a bull the now unbelievably arousing old woman tucked the hem of her skirt beneath the belt leaving the entire remarkable length of the right boot scandalously exposed like a Soho showgirl. I couldn’t stop marvelling at that form-fitting length of leather with open longing. I looked at the small narrow face of the woman barely able to believe the effect this wrinkled old crone was having upon my loins. The pupils of her small eyes were open wide behind her large spectacles with barely suppressed excitement. With shock I saw her tongue flick out to lick her thin lips while her large bosom heaved in anticipation. I thought she wanted me to take her but I was wrong. “Hai!” that sensational long boot soared into the air with amazing speed and flexibility like a can-can dancer. BLAM! “Argh!” the hard sole pounded my jaw like a hammer. My head whipped back so hard I saw stars and felt giddy. Not only was I stunned that such an elderly woman could kick so high but the power left me speechless and weak-kneed with fear. “Hai!” she swivelled her hips while leaning slightly to one side. Her right leg shot out to one side, bent at the knee then straightened as it swung around towards me in a blur of motion. WHUMP! “Orrraghh!” I groaned loudly as the hard pointed toe of her long boot punched me right in the middle of my chest like hammering a nail into the centre of my ribs while the hard sole was like a hammer blow leaving me winded and stunned. Without pause she spun right around on one heel, her skirt billowing as the other leg lifted high behind her. “Hai!” a black blur shot towards my face. BLAM! The sole of her boot pummelled my face sending waves of pain across my face as it was driven back with a warm trickle of blood dripping from my nose and mouth.

“Hai!” BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! The old woman’s kicks came frighteningly fast and furious. Much too fast to stop and far too strong to ignore. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! A constant barrage of kicks battered me from every which way. The blood poured from my nose and mouth as the high-heeled boots cut it up and bruised it at the same time. Despite all my efforts to protect my face, her amazingly flexible legs and hard soled boots kept blasting through my defences, battering my face with relish. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! My head jerked back and forth as her boots kept pummelling my face non-stop as her slender body twisted this way and that kicking me from all angles with intimidating speed and power. The old crone was boxing me with her feet! and I was completely powerless to stop her. That a woman should box with her feet rather than her fists somehow seemed right. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! The brutal kicks kept coming. Her flexibility and stamina was staggering, more so for one so aged. Panicking from her leggy onslaught I covered my battered face with my arms but she just gave a nasty chuckle before swivelling on one foot while leaning away. “Hai!” her knee rose high in front as the foot angled towards me. In the blink of an eye, the leg snapped straight rushing towards me. WHUMP! My breath rushed into my mouth pushing out my cheeks as the hard sole of her boot pounded my stomach like a hammer-blow while the high heel drove like a spike into my belly. The old lady’s kick was so powerful that my body lurched onto my toes while the air escaped through my lips in one big explosion. “Nnnnaarghhh!” I wailed, my body folding right over as I gasped for breath.

“Oh yes!” Miss Savage shouted in a throaty voice full of passion looking as fierce as her name. “That’s it you Neanderthal, make me perspire!” she shrieked. I glanced up at the uncharacteristic outburst to see her face alive with excitement, her pupils fully dilated and panting with heightened arousal. “Hai!” WHUMP! A hard-pointed boot toe nailed my groin. “Hai!” WHUMP! Knee to my chest. “Hai!” the top of a boot arced around and smashed my face. The little old teacher had become a wild woman beating me mercilessly, those sexy boots now a thing of dread. The rate of her devastating kicks increased dramatically, those sensuously shimmering leather boots pounding my body relentlessly with a stamina and energy I couldn’t comprehend. “Hai!” WHUMP! Kick to my chest, “Hai!” WHAP! spinning back-kick to my face, “Hai!” Paf! “Arhhaa!” powerful kick to my jaw that scrambled my senses. Her kicks were too fast and coming too rapidly, just a blur of light reflecting off the form-fitting boots before it struck like a lightning bolt jerking and bruising my body.

“More! Make me perspire!” she cried with unrestrained excitement. Panting with exhaustion and too battered and bruised to go on I raised my hands in supplication to show my submission. With a cruel laugh and a unrestrained glow of pleasure the fierce old woman balled her fists then knocked my hands aside with lightning fast punches. “Hai! Yah!” BAM BAM. My arms fell away tingling and numb leaving myself totally defenceless. “Yah! Yah! Yah!” the old lady went ballastic pounding my belly with her fists. I tried turning away but her small fists kept punching with short sharp blows peppering my side with bruises. I tried using my bigger size to push her away but she caught my hand by the wrist, turned her back on me and sharply pulled the back of my arm down upon her right shoulder. “Yah!” “Argh!” I cried as my arm bent back the wrong way, almost breaking. “Hai!” the point of her sharp elbow drove hard against the middle of my chest. WHUMP! “Orrrghh!”. Without pause, she stepped sharply to one side while holding onto my right wrist with both hands. Whipping my arm right up into the air, she suddenly brought it down again in a forward arc. “No!” I cried as my whole body jerked into the air whipping right over in a dizzying forward spin. The whole room was a sickening blur as in less than a heartbeat I was bodily thrown by a little old woman. BERLAM! my back slammed with tremendous speed against the thick matting covering the floor knocking the wind from me.

“Get up!” Miss Savage barked, her eyes wide, her wide mouth spread in a terrifying smile. I am too beat and winded to answer. “Disobey me at your peril” the old dragon warned, her eyes glaring through her spectacles. I felt such powerful surges of lust as she stood over me with her skirt tucked into her belt laying bare the highly arousing tailored boot that was a shapely column of feminine magnificence. I was highly aroused yet terrified of her. Scared of her wrath I forced myself to my feet. With her torn blouse flapping wide open proudly showing her large bosom packed into her big brassiere, my yearnings for her were mixed with terror as the little old shrew came rushing at me with great eagerness. A desperate attempt to stop her approach by swinging my fist towards her head was stopped by a kick as quick as lightning as her swung up between my legs with cruel precision. “Hai!” WHUMP “Neeeeee!” I screamed in anguish going onto my toes with the excruciating power of the kick with tears stinging in my eyes.

As I slumped forward over my aching groin her knee rose swiftly to meet me. “Yah!” WHOCK! Even the soft leather of her boot could not cushion the crushing blow delivered to my jaw. “Arghh!” my teeth gnashed together as my jaw compacted. The old lady didn’t even wait for my head to stop jerking over my shoulders as she stepped forward with a manic grin. Her hands grabbed the front of my shirt and her right knee raised to plant the toe of her boot in my belly before throwing herself backwards. This time it was over before I’d barely knew it had started. One second I was falling towards the old woman lying upon her back with a long leather boot stuck in my belly, the next I was hurtling away at tremendous speed flipping right over. BLAM! “Arghh!” my back hit the mats with a really loud sound. My head was spinning so badly even with my eyes closed that I thought I would pass out. I didn’t understand how she had did it, but being thrown by her legs was just about the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced that the front of my trousers was thrashing like I had a ferret down there. “Up!” the sour-faced woman demanded, the edges of her blouse no longer concealing the big cleavage or over-stuffed bra. “Please no more, mistress. I am beat” I admitted while my dick lurched as I acknowledge the shameful truth, I had been beaten up by a little old school mistress.

“Arggh arghh!” I yelped as she leant over to seize my wrist and bend my hand right back then rose forcing me to follow suit yelping and writhing in her merciless iron-grip. “I’ll decide when you have had enough and not a moment before” she snarled as she whirled me around to face her. Although I stood 8 inches taller I was trembling with fear for I knew that this little old crone was truly too powerful and dominant for a man to handle. She glared at me through her glasses looking supreme. A dominant fighting mistress that made my cock harder and tighter than I’d ever dreamed possible yet I was too terrified of her to try to touch her.

“Hai!” that frightening cry left her thin lips and once more her long leather boot kicked up again and again. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!a barrage of fast kicks pummelled my face, battering my head and senses harder than a bare-knuckle boxer. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! my body jerks uselessly and my head is in constant motion with each powerful kick. I find myself looking along that sensual long leather boot as it repeatedly kicks up giving a tantalising glimpse into the deepest recesses of her skirt before the sole smashes my face once more in a blinding blast of pain. VLAM! BLAM! BLAM! My mind is numb and I can barely co-ordinate my feet. I am punch-drunk and know that I am no match for her. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! The old school mistress is too much for me to handle and my dick is rigidly stiff with the knowledge.

Suddenly the brutal barrage stops and I sway unsteadily with my head feeling too heavy to stay upright. “Yes. I think you’ve had enough now” the strident tones of the strict disciplinarian cut through the haze. “Look at me Peter!” she commanded “I want you to remember this”. Trembling I saw Miss Savage’s shrew-like face glaring in fierce concentration. “HAI!” she shouted loudly making me jump with fright. Time seemed to slow and in the blink of an eye I saw her thigh-length boot rise right up before her moving with frightening speed. BLAM! her foot hammered my jaw with shocking power whipping my head right back over my shoulders. I remembered falling backwards while the old lady’s boot continued to soar way above me to an incredible height until the top of her thigh bounced off her voluptuous bust. Oh what incredible flexibility! What a woman!. BLAM! my back hit the mat hard leaving me in a swoon that I couldn’t shake off.

I made out the form of the dominant schoolmarm as she crouched over me with a smug victorious smirk as she balled up a fist. “Hai!” her small fist punched downwards towards my face. WHOCK! Blinding pain then all went dark.
***
I dreamt that Miss Savage was kneeling by my side with a firm hand around my manhood which is very hard and exposed outside of my trousers. The ice-hard Schoolmarm is slowly sliding her hand up and down the shaft. “Orrrr so good” I moan as my dick grows harder in her small hand. “Yes I know” a firm stern voice says. In alarm my eyes fly open to see that it was real! The strict School Mistress was kneeling with a firm hand at the base of my shaft while the other hand slowly pumped up and down. Her harsh face watched me with amusement as I noticed her torn blouse was fully open yet showed no embarrassment that I was staring right at her lust-inducing wide ample breasts as they met in a deep cleavage. She had also removed her corset, her slender stomach retaining a natural hour-glass although with a more natural waist. Whereas I had expected wrinkles and flabbiness, Miss Savage’s stomach was very flat, wrinkle-free and looked very firm to the point of hardness. “I’ve always had my eye on you Peter” she said with cold emotion staring at me through her large spectacles while her hand continues to work my dick incredibly stiff. As shocking as it was, I was content to lie there enjoying the manipulations of her hand which was very skilled at maintaining and increasing my erection and was too scared of her otherwise. “I have a talent for identifying the big ones” she added with a subtle smirk. “Now is the time to reap the rewards” she stated then led me by my dick pulling me to lean over her on all fours as she laid back on the matting.

I was shocked as she spread her legs wide, two sexy leather columns bent at the knee. Her open thighs drawing my eyes to her crotch where scandalously I saw she wore no underwear. I couldn’t stop staring at her hairy patch blatantly exposed like a whore silently calling to my loins. “Take me, Peter. Satisfy your mistress” my stiff dick gave a big lurch at those words. Without pause and looking very predatory, the old shrew guides my aching dick between the tops of her thighs at the apex of her legs. I gasp as she slides the head just inside the flabby entrance to her love hole. Before I can thrust it inside her, a strong meaty force clamps down all around it. A powerful muscular force that overwhelms me stopping my dick in its tracks and taking complete control. “Ohhhh amazing!” I groan as the all-encompassing force pulls my dick inside her all the way to the base of my shaft. The woman then keeps me there fully embedded within her with a pulsing sensation surrounding my whole shaft that has me moaning my love and allegiance in all kinds of lust-crazed ways.

“Ohhhh!” I moan in blissful pleasure. “Just a little something I learned in India. Practitioner’s of the art have no problems stopping their husband’s attentions from wandering” She informed me. “Ohh ohh!” I moaned loudly going crazy with lust as I was pushed back and forth along her channel by this unseen force. As her love tunnel slowly slid my manhood back and forth I leant over to kiss her wrinkly old mouth with unbridled passion. “Ohhh!” I moaned as that powerful muscular love tunnel completely swallowed my shaft and held me there while she glared straight in my eyes. “I could bring you to the peak of ecstasy and beyond in a matter of seconds” she stated. “Ohhhh yes please” I groaned then fell silent at her steely gaze. “Do you think I’m a whore?” she asked in a tone that could cut steel while her love held my dick solid in a slowly pulsating mass. “No Marm” I replied sheepishly. “No. For I am your mistress. Now pleasure me like your life depends on it” she said then added “because it does”

The indescribable sensation around my dick vanished and I found myself back in control. Insane with lust I took her hard, humping my hips as I banged away with a wild frenzied love. I took her with a raging passion I could not quench. Thrusting my hips back and forth I rammed it inside her again and again. I also kept kissing her while thrusting away at her, finding her thin lips an irresistible pleasure. The sighs and moans that she made spurred me on with an even greater desire to satisfy her like no other man had. Building up speed despite my tiring hips she begins to cry out loudly and buck her hips in combined frenzied rhythm of passion. “Nnnnarr nnnnarr nnnarrr” I keep blasting my seed inside her but that strange muscular love tunnel starts pumping keeping my dick hard and spurring me on to greater and greater passion. Over and over I keep unloading more of my seed inside her. I just can’t seem to stop while the woman’s cries of passion gets wilder and louder. The normally stern-faced old shrew was moaning and crying out so loudly in the throes of her pleasure that I am surprised that no one had came to complain about the noise. Soon her cries of pleasure tail off as does that pulsating love tunnel and I find that I can seed her no more for she had drained me dry. Utterly exhausted my dick fell out of her limply as I withdrew from the amazing old woman.

Just as I was crawling back from between her legs, the thigh-high polished boots rose and closed in on either side of my neck stopping me. The soft leather pressed against my skin as her long slender calves exerted a gentle but firm pressure. I raised my palms to the sexy boots on either side enjoying the sensual feel of the leather. My hands tentatively slipped to the top of her stockings above the boots but stopped as the old shrew cast a ice-cold glare. “Where do you think you are going?” she asked her small narrow face stern with the beady eyes glaring at me through her glasses. Her harsh coldness sent a twitch through my groin.

Taking hold of my hair she slid my head between her thigh boots towards her hairy patch until that completely filled my vision with her slender thighs holding me firmly in place. “Now clean your mess” the old crone growled in command. Without waiting for a response she shoved my face right against her hairy patch with the entrance of her love tunnel against my lips. “Get in there and be sharp about it” her strict voice snapped while giving me a hard glare “Lick it to my satisfaction” she demanded. I was horrified by the order. Never had I heard of such an unnatural perverted act of a man putting his tongue in a lady’s private parts. The thought of sticking it in there where I had just unloaded what had felt like buckets of seed revolted me. I feel her legs move as she folds the calve of her boot across the back of my head preventing my head from moving. “Mmmmmm!” I moan into her love nest as a strong pressure squeezes on either side of my head. Her legs may be slender and feminine sheathed in sensual thigh length leather boots, and she may be an old grey-haired crone, but her legs felt like steel bars beneath the soft leather.

“Start licking, lad, or I’ll crush your skull like an egg” the dominant old lady stated. An increase in the power flowing through her slender thighs crushed down upon my cheeks. I had no reason to doubt her so with trepidation I stuck out my tongue and began waggling it about. I nearly gag at the nasty slimy taste but her strong legs clamp down hard encouraging me to continue. “Oh for heaven’s sake. Do it right lad” she scolds as a hand slapped on the back of my head and another on my forehead positioning my face in what was apparently just the right spot. Her slim strong legs hold my face firmly imprisoned against the entrance of her love tunnel. “Orrr lick it lad. Worship your mistress” she commands in a voice laced with yearning and I realised that this was turning her on. Oddly I no longer noticed the taste and so began licking in earnest. I must have been doing it right as she begins to give little gasps of excitement causing a stiffness in my groin with strong desire to lick her to the peaks of ecstasy. “Orrr yes. Worship my old demanding vagina, show it your devotion” she exclaimed in excitement. “Orrrr!” she gave a moan then began to move her hips in small movements rubbing her slimy old love box up and down my face. “Ohhh!” she moaned loudly and rubbed my face with such vigour my nose was being driven up and down her fleshy channel. “Orrr! Yes that’s the spot Orrrr!” she began moaning louder and thrusting faster against my face. Her lustful excitement was contagious and I found myself with another rapidly stiffening erection just wanting to give the stern narrow-faced old shrew a climax that would put a smile on that hard frosty face.

“Ohhh!” her moans got louder and more frequent but then she began to stop momentarily to squeeze out a long cry that caused her legs to contract with painful force against the sides of my head. These little interludes would soon pass as she resumed rubbing against my face with renewed vigour and increasing speed but they began to become more frequent, each time squeezing a bit harder and for a bit longer as she cried out louder. “Ohhhh ohhhh ohhhhh f*ck f*ck f*ck!” the foul expletives from her mouth were shocking but I did not care as her slender thighs were crushing down around my face with a terrible painful force. Her wild animistic screams of ecstasy as she climaxes are blocked out as the power pouring through her thighs upon my head became unbearable. Crushing with an intensity I never expected from such a slender old woman I welcome the encompassing darkness.
***
CRAK! A hard slap across my face awakens me with a start to find myself lying upon my back on the floor with a stiff dick sticking upright from my trousers. Standing astride my body is the dominant old schoolmarm. A long high-heeled slender leather column of unbridled feminine sexuality rises from each side of my body disappearing beneath a long leather skirt. “You will be here on Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights at 9 o’clock sharp to assist with my exercises” the strict voice came down from above in no uncertain terms. Her right boot lifted and moved over my erection where it slowly pressed it down beneath her sole as if pressing a pedal. “And I expect this in full working order. So no dalliances with girls or I will break them” she warned. “On your knees before me” she commands sternly with her hands upon her hips. I did as I was ordered, looking up in expectation at this wonderful strange goddess of a woman. “You will only contact me here at those appointed days and times” she lectured with no sign of affection after the intimacy that we had just shared. “If you are late or attempt to speak with me outside them, I will punish you severely and not go easy on you as I have tonight” If that had been going easy then I did not dare to dwell upon facing her in a bad mood. “If you even think about not attending, you may as well reserve a bed in in Shrewsbury hospital. Is that understood?” she asked. “Yes mistress” I answered as humbly as I could trying not to allow her see the fear. The wrinkly old shrew glared at me through her glasses perched on top of her prominent nose for a few seconds making me feel uncomfortable, which I suspect was her intent. “You are dismissed” she said curtly.

She suddenly reached down and slid her right arm around my neck such that my throat was in the crook of her arm. Although the silk sleeve was soft against my skin I gasped in shock as the slender arm folded steely tight as she clasped her left forearm positioned behind my head. Placing her left hand at the back of my head, she pressed my head forward pushing my throat tight into the crook of her right arm. “Grkkk!” I felt my windpipe close up. Her slender arms must be deceptively strong for she was choking me. In alarm my hands flew to the arm around my neck and tried to pull it away with all my might and was horrified to find the old lady’s arm was locked tight. “No use fighting it lad” she cackled as a feeling of helpless dread came over me. I tried to twist and turn to shake off the crazy old woman’s arms but they were dreadfully tight like a steel vice. “This rear naked blood choke applies pressure to the carotid arteries restricting the blood flow to your brain” she coldly informed me as I pulled and tugged at her forearms to no avail feeling myself go red in the face as her stranglehold made me feel light headed. “If I were generous, you would be rendered unconscious in a matter of a few seconds” Her words made me panic thinking that I could feel the blood stop flowing to my brain. I clutched frantically at her solid firm arms trying to throw back my head to gain a space around my neck with which to breathe. Yet my head remained lock tight as within a clamp. “…..!” I managed to force open my mouth and with eyes clenched as I tried in vain to draw breath. “However by controlling your windpipe I can apply a slower more painful choke allowing you bathe in my dominant superiority as I slowly knock you out” her voice sounded triumphant. In horror I found I was losing energy fast and no longer had the strength to pull on her arm. My heartbeat sounded loud in my ears and a sour taste filled my mouth. “If I wished, I could put you to sleep permanently and The Police would be none the wiser” My cock went rigid at those words and with shaking arms I stretched out my hands in submission. Her only reaction was a cruel cackling laugh as she continued to apply a steady pressure on my neck with her slender arms. “Are you going to ejaculate in my honour of my all-encompassing supremacy?” she jeered “Most men do”. My eyes began to loose focus and I felt dreadfully weak. “Feel the power of my dominance. You don’t stand a chance” My body heaved and thrashed in one last desperate attempt to reach air. The old woman was just too much to handle and my dick soared harder than I had ever felt it before. Suddenly my eyes began to flicker and I felt my body go into a spasm. As my eyes glazed over and my hands dropped to the floor, I gave one last act of worship to this superior old mistress. Nnnnarrr Nnnnarrr Nnnnarr I groaned silently as three massive eruptions of seed blasted from my dick before my body relaxed and I gladly slid into the darkness.
***
Cold, darkness, uncomfortable. I awoke to find myself lying on the gravel path outside the schoolhouse now in darkness as was the street. For a moment I wondered how a petite slender old lady had moved my body. The strict dominant woman was stronger than she appeared and had an arsenal of ferocious fighting tricks. I quickly got to my feet and got my bearings for home, not having the desire to encounter the leather-wearing old school mistress on a dark street in the middle of the night.

Not that I got much sleep for all night I kept thinking of the things the old crone did to me. I become highly aroused and mess my sheets as I used to as a teenager. All the time I think of the old schoolteacher and know that I will be there as she demands because although she fills me with dread, I desire her with indescribable passion.

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