Author Topic: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell  (Read 2533 times)

Offline JayneDeviant

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Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« on: July 16, 2021, 09:09:02 AM »

“So, Bradley, ah understand you’ve been bullying poor, little Hector again. Is that correct?”

Here it was, 3:30 pm in Robert E. Lee Middle School, a beautiful, Spring afternoon. The halls and classrooms stood empty, as all the well-behaved children had gone home to play and do chores and enjoy all of the wonders of youth…

…all of them, that is, except for Brad Mulligan, unrepentant 7th grader. For what must have been the hundredth time, he sat in detention.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Brad crossed his arms. He was only 12 years old, but you’d hardly know it look at him. His white skin was already tanned and hardened from working on his parent’s farm, filled with cuts and scrapes from a dozen infractions.

Most of his detentions were for smoking… he often kept up a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his shirt sleeve, just like his father did.
Not today, though. Today’s detention had nothing to do with smoking, or perhaps a can of contraband PBR smuggled in his backpack. Nope. Brad Mulligan was also the biggest bully and the meanest kid in all of R.E.L Middle, and today he was serving detention for sending a fellow classmate, Hector Gonzales, to the hospital.

“Brown-skinned fucker had it coming!” he continued. “I don’t regret nothing! I’d do it again, if I had to!”

From behind her desk, the assistant vice-principal Miss Honeywell absently chewed on a pencil. Slowly. Wrapped her tongue around it unthinkingly.

She was a tall woman, with long, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her thick, black-framed glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. “You just can’t play nice, can ya, Brad?” she said softly.

“Not when there’s spics involved! Spic faggot no less!”

“Mmm, quite so.” She grinned, shifted in her seat. “That is a naughty word. Where on Earth would you have heard such… such naughty language as that, ah wonder?”

“My old man! Ever since he got laid off, he’s complained about them spics coming over the border, taking our jobs, taking over our communities, taking our women… He says the only good spic is a dead spic!”

“Oh, yes, very nice… Very nice…” Miss Honeywell breathed heavy, removing her glasses and setting them down. She stood up and smoothed out her tight, red dress, then walked slowly over to where Brad sat, her high heels clacking on the tile floor. “Your father sounds like a smart man. It’s so… so rare to meet a child so racially aware at such a young age!”

“Shit, I ain’t no child! I’ll be 13 next year!”

That gave her a good laugh and she threw back her head in delight. “Well, ah stand corrected! Now tell me more about what exactly happened.” She sat down on the edge of his desk and crossed her long legs.

“What happened? We were getting changed for gym, I called him a dirty spic, he told me I was a racist, so I punched him!”
She clapped her hands, clearly delighted. “And how did it feel?”

“He was crying his eyes out and…”

“No, no, Brad,” she said, touching him on his shoulder and looking deep within his eyes. “What I meant was… How did it feel for you?”

“For me?” He blinked. “Pretty damned good, I guess.”


He thought about that. “Yeah, I reckon. I liked punching him. I liked seeing him on the floor crying… He started blubbering on about how everyone hates him cause of where he’s from, and I’m like, fuck yeah we hate you because of where you’re from, you little bitch, what are you gonna do about it?”

“Yes… yes…” Miss Honeywell’s long fingers now began absently playing with the top button of her blouse. “And what… what did he do then?”

“I told you, he’s a fucking faggot! He started crying and backing away, and then everyone gave us room… So I let him have it! That’s when Mr. Peters ran in and separated us!”

“You broke his nose.”

“Yeah, that’s what they tell me.”

She touched Brad’s arm. “You must be very strong.”

“I guess.”

She leaned down so that her top fell down and her cleavage was on full display. “Can ah tell ya a little secret, Brad?”

Brad swallowed. “Yeah, I guess.”

She got down and whispered in his ear: “I hate those spics, too. I hate that I have to teach them. I hate that they’re in our public school system. I hate that they’re using our tax dollars to get a free education. Ah think President Trump should just round em all up and have em executed.”

“You sound just like my dad.”

“Maybe so… But it’s one thing to talk about it… It’s another thing to actually do something about it.” She looked him up and down. “Twelve years old, huh?”

Brad gulped. “Yeah, I…”

“Did ya kick him while he was down?”

“No… I didn’t think to…”

“Well, that’s what you have to do, Brad!” she said, her eyes bright and penetrating. “You have to kick em when they’re down… Because we don’t want those spics getting back up, do we?”

“No, I guess not..”

“You guess not?”

“I mean… No, definitely not!”

She continued to breathe heavy. “You want to touch my breasts, Brad?”

He nodded his head vigorously.

“I bet you’d do anything in the world to suck on them?”

“Yes… Yes, I would….”

“They’re big and they’re white and they’re full of white milk. White milk for white men and white boys. Not for brown boys.”

His eyes grew wide in anticipation. “Can I? Can I, please?:

“You know what I want you to do first?”

He gulped, looking from her breasts to her imploring eyes. “You… you want me to kill Hector?”

She threw back her head in uproarious laughter. It was much too loud, and it echoed through the classroom and down the hall. For those few moments, Miss Honeywell’s maniacal laughter filled the entire school.

“No, no, no…” she said, wiping a tear from her eyes. “No, Brad. I just want you to break one of his fucking arms. Can you do that for me? I want you to break it. And I want to be there when it happens. I want to hear it crack! You understand me?”

He nodded his head. “You got it!”

“Excellent.” She stood. “You know, since Hector was in the hospital, he missed several tests. I think he’s about due for a detention… say, tomorrow afternoon? And what about you, Brad, would you like to serve a detention with me and Hector tomorrow?” She undid another button on her blouse, and looked down at Brad’s tiny stiffy in his pants. She licked her lips. “Run along home now.”

“But… but can’t I just…” He reached out for her.

“All in good time,” she said with a grin.
« Last Edit: July 17, 2021, 11:34:44 PM by JayneDeviant »

Offline Bronzelara

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Re: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« Reply #1 on: July 16, 2021, 10:10:40 AM »
Mmmm fuck wish she was my mum
Teasing bi teen who cant defend herself from stronger women and men

Offline amandablonde

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Re: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« Reply #2 on: July 17, 2021, 06:08:47 AM »
Miss Honeywell is an inspiration to the teaching profession.  Congratulations and a merit from me.  Well done!
accomplice of evil

Offline Dirtydoc92

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Re: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« Reply #3 on: July 17, 2021, 02:53:54 PM »
Jayne another great story, can't wait for the next day of detention.   

Offline Habijj
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Re: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« Reply #4 on: July 18, 2021, 07:32:10 PM »
Holy shit I can't wait to see what he gets to do to Hector  :emot_thedrool.gif:

Offline JayneDeviant

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Re: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« Reply #5 on: July 23, 2021, 09:36:03 AM »
Happy Friday, here's the next installment! I'm going to aim to have some new content up every Friday. Please do let me know what you think, I love all the comments!

Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell - PART 2!

The next afternoon, school was back in session.

Miss Honeywell had just finished teaching that afternoon’s lesson on the Civil War – specifically about how the South had been unjustly maligned by mainstream history books - and was grading papers while her class was out at recess.

She just loved everything about her job… She loved teaching, she loved being with the students, the loved the way the male students all looked at her when she bent over… Thinking about it gave her a shiver of satisfaction.

At a certain point, she set her pen down and stretched her legs. She walked out into the hallway for some water, but she hadn’t gone far when she heard the sound of whimpering.

She kept going past the water fountains to the school library. She peered in and followed the source of the whimpering until she found young Hector Gonzales, hunched in a corner with his head between his legs.

“Hey there,” she soothed. “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you out playing with the other kids?”

Hector looked up, his face red with tears. “They all hate me!” he yelled.

A smile crept at the edges of Miss Honeywell’s mouth, but she kept it at bay. “Now come, come, sweetie. Ah’m sure no one hates you…”

“They do! They hate me because I’m different from them!”

Miss Honeywell absently licked at the corner of her mouth, running a hand over the boy’s tiny body. “Hush, now, I happen to know the other kids like you very much. Where did you get such a ridiculous notion?”

“My father! He says the white kids will always look down on us!”

He continued to sob and Miss Honeywell brought his head to her chest and held him tight, stroked his hair. “There, there. It’ll be okay. How… how old are you, Hector?”

“11,” he sobbed.

“11, my, very nice!” she said, breathing heavy. “Er, what I mean… that’s far too young to be so sad! Like I said, everyone likes you!”

He pulled his head away from her chest. “D-do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that?” She continued to pat his head, running her long fingers over his face. “Of course I like you! I like you very much. I think you’re just as cute as can be!”

He swallowed. “M-my father says that all white people are devils.”

She threw back her head in laughter. “Well, that’s ridiculous! Do I look like a devil to you?” She ran her fingers down his body, took his hand and placed it on her chest. “Be honest,” she said, breathing heavy, so that her ample cleavage grew even more ample with every inhale.

Young Hector shook his head quickly. “Gosh, no, Miss Honeywell… I think you’re wonderful.”

“Well there you are, and I think you’re wonderful, Hector! Just a wonderful, little boy! A wonderful, young, little boy. And one day you’ll grow up to be a smart, young man!”

“D-do you really think so?”

“I know so! I wouldn’t be a teacher if I didn’t believe in every child’s potential, even a spic like you!”

“A what?”

“Oops, sorry! That just came out! Listen, Hector, I have an idea…” She again drew him closer to her, and licked her lips. Her breath was hot on his face. “Why don’t you stay after school today for some one-on-one tutoring. Would you like that?”

He nodded his head. “J-just you and me?”

“That’s right, Hector.” She breathed, bringing her lips close to his. “Just you and me. And you’ll have me for as long as you want me. For tutoring, I mean.”

“O-okay, sure!”

“Now there’s that smile!” she said. “How about if you run along to recess?”

“Okay, I will! Thanks, Miss Honeywell! See you this afternoon!”

As the young boy stood, she could see the stiffy in his pants. She grinned. “White devils,” she said to herself when she was alone, shaking her head. “Oh, dear boy… you have no fucking idea!”

Offline Bronzelara

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Re: Serving Detention with Miss Honeywell
« Reply #6 on: July 28, 2021, 12:54:05 AM »
Love that more is being added and Id say its not just the male students that keep a close eye and watch when Miss Honeywell bends over with her rear or front
Teasing bi teen who cant defend herself from stronger women and men