|
Seeing red
When I was fifteen
years old, we lived next door to a schoolmistress in her middle
thirties. One day she appeared in a red rubberised mackintosh
which immediately aroused rather special feelings.
A few days later my mother
sent me on a message to her house and when I arrived she asked
me in. She said that she was pleased that I had called as she
had a little which I could do for her. There was a large pile
of books in a bedroom and she wanted them moving downstairs.
She took me upstairs to show me where the books were. And there,
laid out on the bed, was her mackintosh.
After she had told me what
to do I started to carry some of the books downstairs and placed
them where she wanted them, she then left me to carry on with
the task.
On my second visit upstairs
I tentatively touched the mac, electrified at that glancing touch
by its soft rubber texture.
On the next visit I succumbed
to temptation and slipped it on, fastening all the buttons and
the belt, and then pulling up the hood and tying it under my
chin.
Ecstasy! Absolute ecstasy!
- but so overwhelming that I did not hear its rightful wearer
coming up the stairs... She caught me redhanded - also red sleeved,
redskirted, redbelted.
She turned rather red herself.
Very angry, she told me to take it off immediately and to go
and wait downstairs for her.
When she came down, which
was some minutes later, she was wearing the mac herself: and
from her schoolmistress' wardrobe she had looked out a cane.
She cut a formidable figure as she stepped down the stairs, tightly
buttoned and belted into her mackintosh, her knuckles white where
she gripped the cane. I had to choose, she told me, between on
the one hand her telling my mother what I had done and on the
other accepting her punishment, which would secure her discretion.
To save face I chose the latter.
She made me bend over and
touch my toes, and proceded slowly and deliberately to give me
a very hard six of the best, her mackintosh swishing enthusiastically
each time she swept the cane down. It hurt a great deal - brought
me to tears in fact - but knowing full-well that I had deserved
it, I bore my punishment with as good a grace as I could muster.
Afterwards I felt the ordeal
had certainly been worth it. I had only worn her lovely long
mackintosh for a second or so, but the thrill of those few moments
was something I have never forgotten.
Ron |