David Shaw - Naughty Schooling

"OK, take her over to the bars." Jodi snarled, stepping back, but giving

Ma Dunkley's nips a squeeze to be going on with. They were swollen out to the size of half eaten plums, a natural match for the tits they belonged to. Jodi picked up his knife again and slashed through the tape still securing her left wrist.

"Mark, get another javelin," he ordered.

I guess we all wondered what was in his mind, but it was a fair bet it was going to be pretty entertaining. Not that we didn't have entertainment enough, frog marching our now firmly cowed cow of a teacher on her way to the grand finale of a public screwing. I was holding one of her arms and

Jacko had the other, still up over her head and still entangled in the sleeves of her jumper. That way the material was down over her eyes again, which was a pity because what Jodi was arranging near the mats was quite a scene.

Not that it mattered much because as soon as we stopped by the mats the first thing we did was to lift the sweater off and throw it aside. Ma

Dunkley's mouth dropped when she saw Linda. A long time ago a section of climbing bars had been taken down from off the gym wall and stacked away inside the storeroom. Too many kids falling off and hurting themselves I suppose. Anyway, there it was, about eight feet high and ten feet long, leaning against the end wall. And on it, arms and legs outstretched, was

Linda, still wearing that school tie and her shoes, but nothing else. Her feet were about three feet off the floor and standing in front of her was

Andy, holding the javelin. The back end was tilted down; the sharp end was nestled between the lips of Linda's cunt. She was staring straight down at

Andy's hands and if Doctor Who's Time Machine had appeared in the storeroom right then I don't think she would have even noticed it.

Of course Andy had never thought of that by himself. It was Jodi who'd arranged the scene, just as it was Jodi who was enjoying himself most by watching Ma Dunkley's reaction. Mark handed him another javelin and Jodi made a mock show out of feeling the tip for sharpness and blowing on it.

"OK, Christine, put your back to the bars and climb up alongside Linda.

It's easily done, just like going up a ladder backwards and plenty of hand grips to help you." He held up the javelin. "If you think you need any extra incentive, just let me know."

She was plainly baffled, but certainly not in any mood to argue. She let us push her unresistingly up against the inclined bars, then grunted and puffed as she went up a few bars, until she was level with Linda and in the same position, arms outstretched at the level of her shoulders to keep her balance. There was something of a double crucifixion scene about it, an impression reinforced by the spear-like javelins. Nothing but sinners here though, or at least they would be by the time we'd finished with them.

Maybe the religious thoughts lingered for a moment or two though, because when I looked up at the teacher's swaying tits I thought it was a pity we couldn't take her into church and lay her out on the alter at harvest festival time – just the way she was, naked, plump and full of nature's bounty. Maybe it would have put the Vicar off his sermon but what the hell, it was the thought that counted. Jodi's next words certainly gave

Christine even more to think about.

"Right, let's have some teat pulling here."

No problem. It was like a crowded tube train with everybody strap hanging though a lot more interesting. I started off with the only free tit I could get hold of – one of Linda's, worse luck. Never mind, I also found that her pussy was at just the right height for me to give her clit a good licking and I also had another hand in the complicated manoeuvring going on underneath the teacher's skirt. Perhaps it helped to take her mind off the assorting handling her massive boobs were getting, though not very much. Not judging by the squeals she was making and the way the bars were rattling – you'd have thought a gorilla was shaking them. Linda was doing plenty of squirming and shouting herself. When I let somebody else tongue her and looked up her head was arched back, her mouth hanging open and she was twitching her hips around as if she was being tickled up the twat with a feather duster.

"OK, Andy, fetch the camera."

Trust me to get stuck with the worst job. Still, somebody had to keep a nicely detailed record of the teacher and her best looking pupil being put through their paces.

When I came back with the Olympus 35 and the flash bulbs both of our victims cried out in protest. That camera was going to be an instrument of fate for them and they knew it. Linda had probably been expecting it from the start but the teacher gave a despairing wail as I started getting in some good exposures.

And it was when we started getting some good exposure of Christine herself that I began to suspect that maybe she had expected to find herself doing some pin up work. Because once the lads had pulled her skirt and girdle off, there were tiny little lilac collared panties underneath her pantyhose. Well, tiny compared to the width of her hips, which shook like a Turkish belly dancer's when Jodi trailed his fingertip along the damp gusset of the panties.

"For God's sake, Jodi. I can't stand much more of this," she moaned.

"Don't keep me hanging around anymore, just fuck me, please!"

Yeah, well, she had a sense of humour, you had to give her that. We grinned at each other, and at Jodie. And Jodie, the bastard, he told the other guys to leave Linda alone for a while and everybody to squeeze

Christine's tits and put their hands up between her legs. While they were doing that he slit the pantyhose on the seams, rolled it down her legs, and then slashed it again until it was in shreds around the top of her boots. It was skilful work, leaving her with nothing on but her sexy panties as hand after hand rubbed her mound of Venus and twiddled with those big nipples. And whilst all that was going on I took snaps of the teacher, some standing back, some in close up with hair all over her face, lips drawn back, mouth open and her teeth clenched like a fox going down underneath a pack of hounds.

Oh yeah, and I also got a couple of nice shots of poor deserted Linda, hanging up next to the teacher and with one of her hands down at her cunt, giving herself a wanking and not caring who took a picture of her doing it. But then I made her stop it, and got another nice shot of her clutching the bars and swearing at us with every filthy word she could think of as we left her on the shelf for a while.

"You rotten bastards, do it to me then, if you're going to! Fuck me, fuck me!"

"Me as well!" Christine wailed.

That caused some serious laugher before Jodi finally got things back on track by slashing Ma Dunkley's panties and pocketing them as a trophy. She had a patch of black hair as coarse and curly as a short horn's forehead and the same kind of bovine stupefied satisfaction as the guys lined up to lick her, with Linda as a side order. If Christine had been swinging her hips before, what she did then would have made her the toast of the

Istanbul belly dancers' academy.

I guess that if you want to talk about tenderising your meat that was the time. The meat was hanging up there, fondled, stroked, tongued and their nipples sucked as if it were milking time. The lads were yelling and holding up their fingers in triumph to prove that love juice was coming out of both cunts like honey oozing out of a hive: there was nothing those two hanging on the bars weren't game for by then and they wouldn't have cared if they were on the newsreels, let alone any photos I was taking.

Jodi got Linda to stand face to face with the teacher on the bars, her legs on both side of Christine's, her face against the woman and kissing her in full French style as we fingered both of them like fury. There were yells of approval as they did a full bumps and grind routine against each other. Then we let them down and put them on their knees, side by side.