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Discipline on The Croft 1

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Discipline on The Croft 1I’d never known or even met my father and when I was young my mother always told me he was working overseas. I later found out from a friend of my mothers that he’d come to work in Fort William at the aluminum smelter in 1958 and had met my mother at a dance. They’d gone out together for a few months but when my mother had become pregnant with myself, he’d simply disappeared, and nothing had been heard of him since. I’d grown up in a small crofting community and had attended the local primary school followed by Lochaber High School in Fort William where I’d met Kirsty, my first real girlfriend. Like myself, Kirsty was quite shy, and we’d frequently found ourselves at the end of a queue of volunteers, for whatever task, on a number of occasions. She was a pretty girl who’s father was the local policeman and they’d moved to the area from Stornoway, in the Western Isles. I enjoyed her company, although we spent long periods in silence, walking by the river or along the beaches at Morar, not really having much to talk about, but sharing much together. It took many weeks for me to pluck up the courage to even kiss her and in the end it had been herself who’d taken the initiative, one evening in June, as we’d stood in the doorway of the police house in Arisaig. From there we progressed to my feeling her breasts through her t shirt or top and placing my hands on her bottom over her jeans as we kissed, but that was as far as we’d gotten before school broke up for the last time in June 1976. During our final year we’d both joined an activity group at school where we’d walked many of the local hills, led by a history teacher from the school, or taken to the water in sea kayaks. The kayaking group was led by two teachers who were married to one another. Iain MacDonald taught mathematics and his wife Morag taught physical education, or PE to us pupils. Morag was an attractive athletic woman, perhaps in her early thirties, and all of the lads lusted after her at school, especially when she led the netball practice in her short pleated skirt. We’d often get a flash of her knickers as she demonstrated how to throw the ball and her heavy breasts would bounce nicely in her top as she ran around the gym hall. She had olive skin and her dark hair was cropped short and she played with her friends at a local tennis club where I was also a member. Back in May the club has hosted a major regional competition and like many of the younger members, I’d been asked to be a line judge and collect the balls etc. Mrs MacDonald was representing our club in the woman’s singles and had got through to the semi-finals where bursa escort I was judging one of the side lines. For almost two hours I stared at her bottom, swaying from side to side as she bent forward with her legs apart, ready to receive serve only a few yards in front of me. She wore a very short white tennis dress which rode up her hips each time she bent forward, giving me a clear view of her plain white knickers, beautifully stretched across her arse cheeks and disappearing between her thighs. Along the edge of her knickers in the area between her thighs I could clearly see dark curly hairs protruding from within. I was mesmerized by the sight and had to force myself to concentrate on the match. Mrs MacDonald easily won the first set 6-2 but her opponent rallied in the second and was serving in the eleventh game with the set tied at five games each. The game was a classic battle between the two women, now playing at the top of their game, but Mrs MacDonald had the upper hand and after seven deuces she had a break point to go 6-5 up. As she bent before me I noticed for the first time that her knickers were quite damp at the bottom, presumably from her exertions, and this had made the thin material quite see through. It appeared the material had also been stretched and twisted. The area between her thighs, which had once been a broad band of white cotton, was now like an off-white cord which was pulled tightly up between her thighs. Her dark curly hair was bursting out on both sides, but at the very edges of her knickers a thin strip of bright scarlet skin could be observed. My cock had been partially erect since she’d first bent over in front of me, but it was rock hard now, and my eyes were glued to the spot where her tight knickers were forcing the lips of her fanny apart. Suddenly everyone was looking at me – the players, the spectators and the umpire. I was aware of the ball bouncing near my line, but I hadn’t seen it! My eyes were glued to that bottom as she’d returned serve, but her opponents passing shot had been lightning fast. My mouth opened and closed like a fish but no sound came out, as they all looked at me expectantly. “Deuce!” was the umpire’s response. The decision was taken for me, but Mrs MacDonald stood staring at me, then the umpire, then me again, shaking her head as she did so. Her eyes dropped to stare at my groin and then fixed me in a glare, her face bright red, clearly furious at the decision and my part in it. She turned to the umpire and was almost about to say something before changing her mind and instead walking slowly along the baseline with her shoulders slumped bursa escort bayan to the other court. Her opponent clearly rallied at the decision and took the game, then broke serve for the set shortly after. The third set was a blur, and I can remember little about it, but Mrs MacDonald hardly made a shot, and was beaten 6-1. On leaving the court she stared at me briefly before marching off towards the changing rooms. I was confronted by the gent’s captain as I left the court. “What happened Angus? That ball was clearly out and yet you said nothing?”“I just didn’t see it – I missed it somehow!” “It’s your line for God’s sake – you’re supposed to be watching it! Morag’s absolutely furious – you’d better have a good explanation for her!”With those words he stormed off, shaking his head and muttering something about “bloody k**s!” I thought I’d make myself scarce and I was just making my way through the cars in the car park when I heard her shout.“Angus? – Angus!! Come here lad!” She was making her way towards me at some speed and I was caught like a deer in the headlights, as she grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going? Were you sneaking off for a wank and a good laugh at my expense – was that it Angus?” “No Miss – I was just going home Miss, for my tea Miss.” I babbled. “Get in the car Angus” She spoke calmly as she placed her bag in the boot of her silver BMW before climbing into the drivers seat and closing the door. I hesitated and considered making a run from it, but she caught my eye and pointed at the seat beside her. I got in and closed the door behind me. Suddenly it was very quiet and she turned to face me placing her left hand on my shoulder. She leant towards me and for a fleeting moment I thought she was about to kiss me, but her face stopped inches from mine and her free hand grabbed my balls in my tight shorts. “You cost me that match in there Angus, and I want to know why you did it! That ball was out, and you know it! I can’t think why you did it as I was always kind to you as a pupil? So what’s your story Angus? Why did you?” she hissed.I was speechless! I couldn’t believe she thought me capable of such deceit, but clearly she did? My mind was racing, as I tried to think of some plausible excuse.“I’ll tell you what I think Angus! I think you’re a dirty boy who spent most of the afternoon leering at my fanny – didn’t you? You were so engrossed in watching my bottom that you didn’t pay attention, did you? No Angus. You were thinking about Angus and my fanny and what you’d like to do to me, weren’t you Angus?” Her raised voice was quite scary and she had a tear in her eye escort bursa now. I felt truly ashamed of my actions but she was exactly right of course – I’d fucked up because I was a pervert – but I hadn’t meant it! I shook my head and pleaded with her.“I didn’t Miss, I didn’t mean to do it – I just couldn’t help looking Miss – I’m sorry Miss”Suddenly she seemed quite calm and confident, as if she’d reasoned and reached a decision, and I saw the glimmer of a smile before she spoke. “You’ll come to my house tomorrow morning Angus, where you’ll explain why you did what you did, and how you’re going to make amends. You’ll describe your thoughts while you watched my bottom and what you’d like to do to it. I’ll expect to hear about your experience with girls and how you relieve yourself sexually. Yes, wanking Angus! You’ll tell me all about it, who you think about and what you’re doing to them. I’ll then consider what you tell me and decide if you’re being open and honest and whether I can deal with you myself, or, if I might need to involve someone else like your parents, the doctor or the college principal – you’re going to Inverness College, are you not?” She spoke with a calm authority which was not open to challenge and I simply nodded in response.“So I’ll see you tomorrow at 10am Angus – you make sure your on time with a good story for me! There will be consequences for your disgraceful behavior” With these last words she twisted my balls and held them tight and my eyes watered with the acute discomfort. “Get out of the car Angus” She released my balls and I hastily left the vehicle. She started the car and drove off slowly and I watched her turn on to the main road and head west for home. My balls ached in an uncomfortable but not exactly painful way, and I could feel the stirrings of an erection in my pants. I considered returning to the clubhouse for a quick wank in the disabled toilet. I’d done so on numerous occasions before as there was much less chance of being disturbed there, compared to the gent’s locker room. I decided against it however, as I was worried about another confrontation with a club official. I’d just have to wait until I got home but I could then fire up my computer and stroke myself to a big cum, watching pictures of tennis players bent over and thinking about Morag MacDonald. That night I lay in bed and reflected on the day’s events. I’d been unable to come despite an hour of serious wanking, and it all stemmed from fear of the unknown and my pending visit to Morag MacDonald’s croft. I considered not turning up but I was worried about how she might react. She was friendly with my mother and might easily mention my ogling her bottom so I decided to meet her, but simply apologise without admitting any liability or disclosing anything, before quickly leaving. That way I’d restore some dignity and avoid any further unpleasantness.

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