Sister Mary

So, I was 15, pushing 16 and a highly confident masturbator. I could cum anywhere I felt like including in class. Cross my legs, start bouncing a foot or squeezing a thigh and away I went. 

But Sister Mary, that gimlet-eyed old crone was wise to our ways. She was old, old school. We would file into her room in total silence and stand by our desks. She would hold us there for a few moments fixing us with her steely glare before, “Sit!” would crack out and we would hastily sit ourselves smartly down. But she wasn’t done. She would then walk between the desks, ruler in hand, and then  she would rap it hard on the desk of any girl sitting with her legs crossed, hissing, “Feet!”  

So, cumming in her class became a challenge…and I love a challenge! 

Oh but she was, as we would say a “savage auld biddie.” But I’m nothing if not determined! So when I hit on the idea of an eraser in my panties, the game, as Sherlock Holmes would say, was afoot. 

To get the full picture you have to know we had to sit bolt upright, feet flat on the floor, elbow and palms of hands on the desk. No fiddling with anything. 

But this day, I had the tightest pair of panties I owned on, and between my labia was one of those long erasers, black, supposedly for ink (never worked) one end, and white for pencil at the other. And it was positioned just right. 

I couldn’t cross my legs, but I could squeeze my thighs….and on that first squeeze I knew it would work! 

And so did Sister Mary! She locked eyes with me, and I knew I was ‘flushed up’ as we called it. You know, that pink flush we get on our necks and upper chests… she definitely knew, but she couldn’t work out how! Her evil little black eyes flickered from mine to my knees which were in the mandated position and then back to mine. 

Although we were all holding our text books and everyone (apart from me) was reading, she knew I was getting myself off…she just couldn’t work out how. And I knew she knew. As her eyes bored into mine so it seemed to open a corridor of communication between her and me. 

With a sudden rush of realisation, I knew beyond all doubt that masturbation was Sister Mary’s greatest pleasure as a young girl and young woman. Before she took the veil, it was her go-to pleasure….and I knew she did it often! 

Like a penny hitting the bottom of a tin bucket it fell into place. That’s why she was so obsessed with us not crossing our legs. In vivid flash of imagination, I saw the young Sister Mary cumming in her panties in class. 

Our eyes remained locked as I came into my panties. I came, she knew she’d just watched me cum, I knew she knew, and we both knew she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

It wasn’t the last cum I had in her class, and each time, she knew and the look of annoyance masked something else…a profound regret and sadness. 

Some girls, usually the youngest daughter, were coerced into Holy Orders, similarly, the second or third sons had pressure put on them to enter the priesthood, but I often wonder, was it worth it? 

And how many times has that suppressed sexual frustration resulted in abuse?