Perhaps if Terrr Blanton's parents had not died when she was twelve, both being killed in a plane crash over the Andes at the very start of a long-awaited exploratory vacation as archeologists, she might never have experienced the incredible adventures which were destined to befall her in the Sanderson School for Young Ladies. But after her parents' death, Terri's uncle, her father's older brother, became her legal guardian, and she went to live at his brownstone house near Central Park. His wife Mathilda was sixty-two and a dour, laconic woman who had no love at all for Terri's pampered prettiness and selfishness. For there was no doubt that the attractive dark-brown -haired girl had been dreadfully spoiled by her doting parents, she being their only child and the only one her mother could ever conceive. Just before their death, Terri's mother and father had discussed the advisability of adopting at least a brother and perhaps two and another sister for their daughter, but of course this plan never could materialize. Thus Terri had had her own way for the first twelve years of her life, and when she went to live with her aunt and uncle, she discovered that they had no intention of catering to her whims.
Although they did not believe in corporal punishment, Terri's aunt had often spitefully suggested to her husband that it would be a good thing if their niece was "brought up short," to quote her very words, by which she meant a good spanking whenever Terri had one of her tantrums when she discovered that she could not get her way. And yet, since neither her uncle or aunt ever laid a hand on her, she went on her egoistic way unrebuked-or at least unchastened-until her eighteenth year.
By then, Aunt Mathilda was sixty-eight and ailing, and Terri's Uncle Mortimer, just turned seventy, was far more concerned with his wife's infirmities than in the growing problem of bringing up a spirited young girl who insisted on having her own way at all costs. Lectures, stoppages of allowance and like punishments had never worked with Terri Blanton.
One afternoon when Mortimer Blanton was stopping at his club after a token appearance at his law offices, he happened to talk to John Mercer, a fifty-year-old bachelor who had traveled all over the world and who was considered quite a gay blade because it was openly known that he maintained a lovely red-haired twenty-year-old mistress whom he had met when she was dancing as a chorus girl in a line at the Copacabana.
"By God, Mortimer, you look as if you're ready for the grave. Sit down and have a gin and tonic with me, old man," John Mercer smilingly invited. "A lawyer like you at your age ought to be taking life easy, not looking as if all the weight of the world were on your shoulders. Here, waiter, a gin and tonic for my friend and the same again for me! Now then, Mortimer, let's have it. Even if you are seventy, I could recommend my prescription for staying young eternally-a sweet young girl who does everything for you in bed, like my Dorothea."
"Oh, good heavens, John," Mortimer Blanton testily retorted, "that's the very last thing on my mind, I can assure you. No, my problem is a great deal more serious. You've heard that my wife is quite ill, and she's being hospitalized. It doesn't look too good. Thank heaven I have my own good health all this time, but that's just physical. What really plagues me is my young niece Terri. I confess I don't know how to communicate with a girl of eighteen these days. In my time, when a young lady misbehaved or was impertinent, she was taken out to the woodshed and given a sound thrashing to bring her up short. But damn it all, you just can't do that to a girl these days. And I certainly don't have the strength for it."
"Well, old man, your problem is quite a common one, and it's not insoluble. There are special schools, you know, where nonconformists can be very expertly dealt with. I happen to have a friend who runs such a school for young ladies."
"A private school? Well, in my opinion, too many institutions like that only spoil the child a great deal more by giving him or her an undue sense of importance," Mortimer Blanton grumbled as he sipped the gin and tonic which the waiter had just brought him.
"Not in this school, I assure you," John Mercer winked. "First of all, the instructresses there have authority to use the rod so as not to spoil the child whenever they think it necessary. The relatives or kinfolk of the pupils send the principal a letter in advance authorizing such punishment, and believe you me, there aren't any rebels or impertinent little snips there."
Mortimer Blanton perked up at this, and took a healthier swig of his gin and tonic. "This sounds interesting, John. You say you know the owner of the school?"
"Quite so. A charming woman named Phillipa Sanderson. As a matter-of-fact," here he grinned, "if ever Dorothea should fail to mind her P's and Q's, I'll send her there to be taken down a few pegs. Suppose I call Miss Sanderson and have her mail you a brochure about her school."
"I'd be very grateful if you did, John," Mortimer Blanton sighed wearily. "I must admit it's really been a great strain these last six years bringing up that unruly, selfish girl. Her parents, peace to their memory, spoiled her rotten, and Mathilda and I did our best to rectify their mistakes, but now it's impossible."
"I'll get in touch with her at once and have her mail you the brochure direct, Mortimer, that's a promise." The two men shook hands, and Mortimer Blanton left the club feeling more cheerful than he had in years....
CHAPTER TWO
Four days after Terri's uncle had met John Mercer at his club, there arrived in the mail a brochure from the Sanderson's School for Young Ladies, with a handwritten note from Phillipa Sanderson herself inviting Mortimer Blanton to telephone her or even to visit the school if he had any further questions. The brochure was illuminating indeed. The school was located in a little upstate New York town with a population of not more than three thousand residents, and hence there was all the privacy and quiet one could desire for pupils who would be free to pursue scholastic self-improvement. What make Terri's uncle sit up and take notice was a rather lengthy reference to the fact that all girls enrolled in this school were subject to "good, old-fashioned discipline, by which we mean spanking, whenever it is deserved." The brochure went on to state that of course all parents or relatives who would enroll their children into the school would be required to write a letter of authorization permitting such discipline.
Mortimer Blanton waited no further. He made a-telephone call to Miss Sanderson, was told that the latter was out of town for a few days, and spoke to an assistant, Antoinette Barlow, who had a delightful French accent, and who acquainted him with further facts about the school. Tuition was extremely moderate, and this surprised Terri's uncle. The training was quite comprehensive, and the enrollment age was from fourteen through twenty-one. "You see, Mr. Blanton," Miss Barlow explained, "our school is really for problem children, those who have difficulty getting along elsewhere, and we try to give them a good perspective."
Since Terri had only just finished high school two days before her eighteenth birthday, and it was now the end of June, her uncle asked Miss Barlow if they had to wait until September to enroll his niece. "Certainly not, Mr. Blanton. We maintain summer-school classes for all our girls," was the answer.
This decided him. He visited the hospital, told Mathilda of his plans, and it seemed to make his ailing wife much more comfortable. So, calling Terri into his study when he returned from the hospital, he said briskly, "My dear niece, as you know, your aunt is seriously ill and may not recover. I myself am much too old to continue to look after you, and since I have been the administrator of your parents' will, I am also asking a capable younger man at the bank to go to court to be appointed in my stead. However, I am going to send you to a private school for this summer, because I think it would be a great value to you." , "But I don't want to go to summer school. Uncle Mortimer!" Terri Blanton stamped her foot, her lovely features made all the more provocative by the pouting, sulky look which at once came upon them. "I think I ought to have a summer vacation, and certainly you can give me some of my money and let me travel by myself."
"Out of the question!" he irritatedly replied. "I still have my legal duty towards you, till you are twenty-one. No, my dear, make up your mind to it; tomorrow my chauffeur Arthur will drive you to the Sanderson School for Young Ladies."
"I'll run away." Terri angrily threatened.
"I shouldn't try it if I were you," her uncle said with a dry chuckle. "They are very strict there, and you might be punished for it."
"Punished? That's so funny, Uncle Mortimer!" Terry sneeringly reported. "Nobody does that to girls my age anymore. You haven't kept up with the times, Uncle Mortimer! You'll see, I'll run away, and then I'll find a lawyer who will arrange to get my money for me because you and Aunt Mathilda have kept me a kind of prisoner here!"
"Of course you are at liberty to do whatever you like, Terri," he held his temper with a great effort. "But you are going there tomorrow nevertheless."
* * *
Terri sat in the back of the limousine, fuming and scowling at her lot. The liveried back of the gray-haired chauffeur who was driving her to the Sanderson School was hardly sympathetic. Arthur, in fact, was secretly of the opinion that sending Miss Terri away to a private school would be the best thing that could possibly happen to his kindly old employers. He privately thought her a spoiled little bitch who needed her behind well warmed to teach her manners. She had treated him like the lowliest of servants, and many was the time that his fingers had just itched to pull her over her knee and whale her voluptuous young bottom.
Terri had already made her plans. She would go there, pretend to be resigned, and then she would run away at the quickest opportunity. Then she would go to the bank and loudly demand to see the president, explain how her uncle and aunt had made her a virtual slave, and beg him to go to court and help her get her money, because at eighteen she was certainly intelligent enough to lead her own life.
By the time they reached the school grounds, she was actually smiling at her own ingenuity. The school property was surrounded by a tall iron grilled fence which seemed to stretch for miles across the grounds. The limousine stopped at the gate, Arthur blew his horn, and the gate opened electronically. He drove on in to the headquarters building, and then courteously got out of the limousine and held the door open for Terri Blanton to emerge. He carried two suitcases packed with her clothing and personal belongings. "I don't know why you bother to bring all that along, Arthur," she said snippily, "I'm not going to be here that long."
"Just as you say, Miss," he replied in a weary tone. He walked up the steps to the wide porch, rang the bell, and in a moment a pleasant-faced gray-haired woman who introduced herself as Antoinette Barlow greeted him.
"Oh yes, we've been expecting Terri!" she beamed. "If you'll just sit the bags inside, my man. One of my servants will take them up to Terri's room. But first she must have her interview with Miss Sanderson."
Then, to Terri, with another beaming smile, "Come along, my dear. After the interview, you'll have a very nice lunch."
"I don't care if I do or not. I'm not going to be here very long," Terri boldly and defiantly exclaimed. Antoinette Barlow eyed the chauffeur who rolled his eyes heavenward to indicate that in Terri Blanton the school had caught a Tartar. Then he tipped his cap and went back to the limousine and drove back to the city to inform his employer that he had discharged his mission.
Antoinette Barlow led the sulky young beauty down a long hall to a private office, opened the door after knocking, and ushered her in.
Terri Blanton found herself in a private office, at the far end of which, behind a heavy mahogany desk, there sat a slim, black-haired woman with spectacles reading a sheaf of reports.
At length the woman laid her papers down and looked up: "You are Terri Blanton, I assume?"
"Yes I am! And I'll tell you in advance, I didn't want to come to this miserable old school."
"I see, my dear. Wait a bit, your uncle was kind enough to send me a lengthy letter about you and the schooling you have had. Oh yes, yere it is. Let me just read it for a moment. Hmm, I see. You apparently don't get along very well with your uncle and aunt?"
"That's my business!" Terry defiantly retorted.
She was really exceptionally lovely. Five feet six inches in height, her dark-brown hair coiffed in a thick pageboy which fell below her shoulderblades, her face oval and sensitive. High-set cheekbones, intensely eloquent dark-brown eyes set widely apart and usually with an insolent look in them, a dainty little snub nose, a full ripe mouth with petulant upper lip, and a determined little chin. Her skin was superbly creamy, with a tiny black mole on her left inner thigh near her cunt.
Phillipa Sanderson looked up from the papers she had been reading and contemplated Terri Blanton with a severe and yet impersonal expression. "I should understand, Terri, that at the age of eighteen you feel yourself to be already a grown up young woman and that you resent my authority over you. The trouble is, you should have been taught to appreciate and respect authority when you were a child. Since that didn't occur, you are now about to come into your majority and yet you are totally unprepared for getting along with people or using your full potential. You sulk, you have tantrums, and in many ways you show yourself to be immature."
"I don't need your sermonizing me, Miss Sanderson-I suppose you are she," Terri said insolently, her eyes large and dark with anger. "I suppose I can't run away, but I certainly don't expect to do any school work this summer. I never had to before. And my grades are good."
"Yes they are, though they could be a little better. You want to accept no responsibility and yet you want every privilege. Yours is a common attitude, my dear, and it's precisely why I have started this school to take pupils who have difficulties in their homes, with acquaintances and at school. Oh not grades, but just the matter of getting along. Now then, to acquaint you with some of our rules. You will spend the rest of the day in an isolation room. You will have lunch first, and then Miss Barlow will take you to our school physician for a checkup and for measurements so that your costume can be ready for you in the next few days. Every girl here wears the same kind of clothes, Terri, so that no one girl is different from another or has any right to feel that she is better."
"Do I have to study and do homework and all that sort of junk?" Terri indignantly demanded.
"Our classes here during the summer," the woman behind the desk permitted herself a mocking little smile, "do not depend so much on books as they do on situations which test your resourcefulness and other things. I think that is all. Oh yes, there is one more thing. Every new girl who enters the school is given a good whipping."
With this, Phillipa Sanderson resumed her reading of Terri's dossier, leaving the darkbrown-haired young beauty standing stupefied, her mouth agape because she simply could not believe the last words she had heard. Meanwhile, reaching underneath the desk, Phillipa Sanderson had pressed the button and before Terri could even expostulate, the door opened and Antoinette Barlow entered.
"You will take Terri to an isolation room, Miss Barlow. Bring her-a good lunch, and after she has eaten it, you will take her to Dr. Robison."
"Now wait a minute! Do you mean to say-but that's impossible-"
"What is, Terri?"
"You said-you said that every girl who comes in her gets whipped-well, I'm one girl you're not going to whip, do you hear? You haven't got any right to do it! I'm eighteen, and no one has ever dared lay a hand on me!" Terri exclaimed, her color rising in her lovely creamy cheeks, her eyes sparkling with anger and shame.
"I have a letter from your uncle authorizing such discipline, Terri," was the calm answer. "Whether you like it or not, young lady, you are most certainly going to be whipped. Take her away, Miss Barlow."
"No you shan't, I won't stay here another minute! Let go-ouch, my arm, you're hurting me-oh please-please-let me go!" With amazing dexterity and strength that Terri herself had not believed, the pleasant-faced gray-haired woman had seized Terri's slim wrist, drawn it behind her back and upwards forcing the rebellious beauty to bend over to prevent extreme pain. This done, Antoinette Barlow seized the girl's other wrist and, unceremoniously bringing up her knee with a rude bump against Terri's voluptuous bottom, commanded, "Now march, young lady, or perhaps that whipping Miss Sanderson promised you will takeplace here and now!"
Groaning and squirming, crying out against the injustice and shamefulness of the treatment to which she was being subjected, Terri Blanton was forced out of the office and down a corridor and finally down a stairway leading to a huge basement which was filled with many cells and punishment rooms. Antoinette Barlow maintained her grip of the culprit's wrist, took from the pocket of her black silk dress a set of keys and opened one of the doors, then shoved the girl inside and locked the door behind her. Then, pushing aside a narrow little panel at about eye-level, she called through the opening, "Lunch will be brought to you in a few moments, Terri dear. I advise you not to try to rebel, because-the woman who will bring you your lunch Is even stronger than I am, and she has .permission to take you across her lap and give you a sound spanking if you try any of your tantrums with her!"
The isolation cell had a cot, a wash basin and, as Terri discovered in her raging fury, a narrow door which opened on a toilet, ft was. windowless and cheerless, and the only other piece of furniture in the cell was a padded leather footstool with some buckling straps at the front and back legs. It was, though she had no way of knowing it, a spanking stool over which a girl could be bent with her wrists and ankles tied securely.
About ten minutes later, the door was unlocked by Miss Barlow, and a heavily set gray-haired woman, one of the cooks employed at the school and whose name was Clara Metzger, entered with a tray of food. Terri was sitting on the cot, her fingers twisted together, staring at the gray wall ahead of her, her face sulky and furious. At the sound of the opening door, she sprang to her feet, her fists clenched, ready to rebel. But as Clara Metzger entered with the tray, she remembered what Antoinette Barlow had said and controlled her anger perhaps for the first time in her young life.
"You will have half an hour to eat your lunch. Miss" Clara Metzger said coldly. "Then Miss Barlow will come to take you to Dr. Robison."
With this, she turned on her heel and left the cell and locked it. Terri's first impulse was to hurl the tray to the floor, but she thought better of it. The threat of a whipping had made her quail a little, for it conjured up all sorts of unpleasant images. At high school, several of her girl friends had con-fidedthat they had been spanked by their parents, and they had even gone so far as to describe the discomfort and humiliation of the chastisements. Terri's face burned with rage and mortification just thinking that anyone would dare do that to her.
Nevertheless, the food on the tray looked particularly appetizing and smelled as much. Soon she was eating with a hearty appetite, while busily engaging her mind in thinking of ways and means of escaping from this wretched place just as quickly as she could.
Exactly half an hour later, by which time she had finished her lunch, the door opened again and Clara Metzger reappeared. This time, when she ordered Terri to follow her, the dark-brown-haired young beauty did not offer any protest, but rather meekly followed. They went up the steps and down the corridor, to an office not far from Phillipa Sanderson's. The cook knocked at the door and was told to enter, and gestured to Terri to go on in.
Dr. Phyllis Robison was thirty-five, svelte, with auburn hair coiffed in a short bob; she also wore glasses, and her lips were thin and severely ascetic. She was actually a sadistic lesbian; and at times when it pleased the owner of the school she was permitted to administer punishments, especially those which were given before the entire roster of pupils.
Terri hoped that she might find an ally in this attractive and comparatively younger woman, and so at once began her tirade against the injustice of being sent away to a place like this. But Dr. Phillis Robison merely gave her a scathing look and ordered, "Take off everything you have on. I'm going to give you a complete physical. And I advise you not to argue or refuse to obey, because I shall have to report to Miss Sanderson, and that only will increase the severity of your first whipping here, which we call the Welcoming In."
"Oh no, it's not possible! You mean-every girl here is whi-whipped, even if she hasn't done anything?" Terri Blanton incredulously gasped.
"Yes, of course. Now, didn't I give you an order, Miss? Start to undress at once. How a girl behaves her first day here has a great deal to do with how many spanks she is given at her Welcoming In," was Dr. Robison's sarcastic retort.
Her face crimson with shame, Terri began to undress. When she finally naked, and that included even her stockings and pumps, her humiliation was intensified when the auburn-haired woman doctor in her white medical smock first took her heartbeat and pulse, then made her put her hands on her knees and bend well over while she made a rectal and vaginal inspection. She also asked Terri a number of intimate questions about her previous sexual experience, and Terri bit her lips almost to the blood as she tried to respond just as curtly as she could and yet without withholding information which might cost her even more dearly. There was no doubt that she was a virgin, but she also had to admit to masturbating, which she had done since she was fifteen. Her aunt and uncle had occasionally permitted her a date but on a very strict curfew, and while she had never gone so far with a boy as to allow him to put his hands on her naked tits or cunt, she had allowed some French kisses and on several occasions had also allowed her date to slip his hand under her skirt and feel her bare leg or work his hand under her bra and squeeze her bare tit.
By the end of this humiliating cross-examination, Terri was virtually in tears, and when she believed that it was over, she started to dress. Dr. Robison stopped her: "You will leave all your clothes here. I'm going to take your measurements now, and by tomorrow morning your school uniform will be brought to you in your isolation room. Now then, hold your arms up high and take a deep breath."
Closing her eyes, her face redder than ever, Terri Blanton obeyed. She could not see, therefore, the avid look in Dr. Phyllis Robison's gray-green eyes, as they roved over the young beauty's swelling boobs, then moved to the wide shallow niche of the navel, and finally to the thick triangular patch of dark-brown pussyhair. Her creamy thighs were quivering and rippling, and it was evident that she was almost at the breaking point and was ready to burst out in fury against all the humiliating rituals to which she had been subjected since her entry into this school.
With a knowing smile, the lesbian doctor took the dimensions, and then rang a bell to which Antoinette Barlow responded a few moments later.
"Here is a bathrobe, Terri. You will put this on and follow Miss Barlow back to your room."
Terri shot the auburn-haired medico a furious look, was about to speak and then thought better of it, hastily put the bathrobe on and thus, barefooted, followed the gray-haired matron back to the isolation room into which she was again locked.
That evening, an excellent dinner was brought to her, including a glass of good Medoc wine. It was Clara Metzger who again brought her the tray, and left without a word, to return half an hour later to take it out and again lock her in for the night.
Flinging herself down on the cot, Terri burst out into hysterical sobs. She had never dreamed that anything like this could ever happen to her. No longer the center of attention, no longer fawned upon by servants as she had been with her uncle and aunt, she was so distraught that she had almost completely forgotten what was to befall her tomorrow, which would mark her Welcoming In....
It could hardly be said that Terri Blanton slept well. It would be more accurate to way that she dozed throughout the night, and that her sleep was fraught with nightmarish scenes. When she finally woke, of course, she had no knowledge of time since no light filtered into the isolation cell. The cot was hard, besides, and it seemed to her that her entire body was aching. The bathrobe had been scant protection for her satiny white skin, and perhaps she felt somewhat like the princess who had detected a pea through forty mattresses as in the fairy tale of yore. But almost a few minutes after she had sat up and rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and seen with desolate glance that this was no dream and that she was actually imprisoned in this wretched school to which her aunt and uncle had so heartlessly consigned her, the door was opened and Clara Metzger entered with a tray of breakfast. "You will eat this at once, Miss," the cook snapped, "and at ten o'clock Miss Sanderson will see you."
"Do I get some clothes?"
"She will tell you about that. That has nothing to do with me," the woman snapped as she sat the tray down on the stool and again marched swiftly out of the cell and locked the door behind her.
There was bacon and eggs and buttered toast and marmalade and strong black coffee. There was also a sectioned orange, and Terri did full justice to the meal. Her healthy young appetite asserted itself, but once she had finished the repast, it was with sinking heart that she took stock of her situation. She was going to fight. She wouldn't let them whip her, she would die first! They would have to drag her, kicking and clawing and biting and struggling, and they would have to have lots of people to hold her doww. As soon as she got a chance, she would escape and tell the police what sort of dreadful place this was.
Somewhat heartened by her resolve, she sat back on the cot and planned her campaign of action, or rather, rebellion against this unheard of tyranny. But it was not until ten in the morning, actually, some two hours after the cook had brought her breakfast, that the door was again opened. This time it was Miss Barlow. "You will follow me, Terri. It's time for you r Welcoming In," was her terse comment.
"I won't! Nobody is going to whip me, you'll see! I've done nothing, and it's unfair! Nobody has a right to treat a person my age like that, it isn't done!" the dark brown-haired young beauty defiantly exclaimed.
"Then you refuse to obey my order, which comes from Miss Sanderson herself?"
"You're damned right I do! I'll fight, I won't let anybody do that to me!" Terri mutinously retorted, her eyes sparkling with anger.
"Then I see I shall have to take you to the whipping room by force, Miss," Antoinette Barlow calmly countered. She approached, and Terri at once sprang up from the cot, determined to defend herself to the very death. But once again the gray-haired woman revealed her expert dexterity and ability in managing rebellious pupils like Terri; feinting to one side, she made Terrr lunge to the other side, and they swiftly caught one of the girl's wrists and once again doubled it high up on her back. "Now, you are going to come along, or otherwise it will be before the entire school," Miss Barlow scolded. "Would you like that? Would you like to have all the other girls watch you being tied to the spanking chair and stripped naked and your big bottom thoroughly whipped in front of them, would you?"
"No-oh you hateful woman, let me go-ouch, my arm, you're breaking my wrist-aiiii-stop it, stop it, you've got no right to do this to me-oh please-let go of my wrist, all right, I'll go, but I want to talk to Miss Sanderson!"
"That you shall certainly do," the woman ironically promised. "For it will be she who inflicts the whipping on your impertinent bottom her very self. Now come along with you!"
Sobbing with frustrated anger and humiliation, her wrists aching atrociously and still maintained by the gray-haired matron, Terri Blanton was led out of the cell and down to the end of a gloomy corridor. At length Miss Barlow paused before a larger metal door, unlocked it and shoved Terri inside. At once the girl drew back, her eyes wide with disbelief and horror. At first glance, it looked like a medieval torture chamber, with a vaulting horse equipped with buckling straps, a steel triangle, and a curious pillory, as well as a whipping frame at the far right end of the spacious room. On the wall directly opposite the open door, Terri could see hanging from hooks set into the stone an arsenal of whipping instruments, from riding crops to paddles, martinets, cat of nine tails and tawses.
"Take off your bathrobe now, drop it onto the floor," Miss Barlow commanded.
"Oh my God-you-you aren't going to use those awful things on me-oh, this is awful it's too cruel-you'll kill me!" Terri protested, very pale, her heart beating rapidly now as the awful moment neared. "Please-I haven't done anything, why am I being whipped?"
"Because it is our rule that every new girl experiences discipline so she knows what to expect if she is naughty here, Miss," came the answer. "Take off your bathrobe, or I'll tell Miss Sanderson that you're disobedient and you know what that will cost you. Be quick about it now, or I'll take it off myself and you won't like that at all!" was the warning.
Bursting into tears, Terri sullenly and very reluctantly unfastened the belt of the bathrobe and unbuttoned it, then drew it off her body and let it fall to the floor. Her voluptuous white skinned nakedness was magnificent, and Miss Barlow's eyes glistened with admiration as she came forward now and seized the dari-brown-haired culprit by the wrist and led her towards the whipping frame.
It was a round upright wooden post, and the frame itself was set on the floor and angled upwards. Near the top of the post and on the other side of it from the frame, was a pair of leather handcuffs. Miss Barlow forced Terri to lie upon the triangle-like wooden frame and extend her arms out and upwards, whereupon she promptly locked the girl's slim wrists in the heavy leather cuffs on the other side of the post. Terri's naked panting tits were free just above the peak of the whipping frame, and she glanced back fearfully as the gray-haired woman now squatted down and proceeded to seize first one slim bare ankle and then the other and make it fast in the attached leather cuff at the base of each widely spread section of the whipping frame.
When she straigntened, Terri was extended at about a forty-five-degree angle, her body well tractioned by the fettering of her wrists, absolutely vulnerable. Her legs were spread a full yard apart, giving access to her private parts as well as to her sumptuous young virgin ass which was now condemned for the first time in her eighteen years to know the shame and pain of corporal punishment.
"Oh please, tell me what they're going to do, oh please!" Terri blubbered, all her courage deserting her as she stared pitifully at the gray-haired woman.
"Miss Sanderson will decide what you are to get, young lady," she curtly answered. "I am sure that if you ask her, she will inform you."
And with that sarcastic remark which only left poor Terri in a more anguished state of suspense and apprehension, she left the punishment chamber and closed the door behind her. The minutes dragged on endlessly, until poor Terri was almost ready to cry out for someone to hurry in and finish this terrible punishment so that it would be over the sooner. Sweat beaded her temples, and she felt that her armpits were moist with it, while she tried vainly to shift herself and to clench her thighs, feeling the shame at having her pussy so indecently exposed. Her muscles ached from the unaccustomed stretch to which they were being subjected. And yet she had never been more beautiful or desirable.!
Then she uttered a strangled cry of fear as the door opened, and Phillipa Sanderson entered, closing the door behind her.
"Oh-ahh-oh M-Miss Sanderson, oh please don't wh-whip me, please don't! I won't run away, I'll try to be good-oh please, I haven't done anything, please let me out of this-please!" she heard herself quavering.
"Now let me see," the bespectacled directress of the school completely ignored her heartrending supplication as she walked slowly towards the panoply of whipping instruments. "Since apparently you have never before been whipped, Terri, I must decide what would be the most appropriate instrument for that big bottom of yours. Hmmm, let's see. Yes, I think this thin, flexible rattan cane would be an excellent beginning."
With this, she reached up to the wall and took down from the hook where its cord grip had been secured, a slim yellow rattan, about the length of a yardstick, whippy and viciously supple. Terri uttered a cry of consternation and tried to struggle. The angling "legs" of the frame fixed together in a triangulated peak into a heavy wooden block which itself was affixed to the round upright. A waist strap with buckling end was fixed to the middle of the frame, but Miss Sanderson had decided not to use it so as to provide herself with the spectacle of Terri's frantic gyrations under the kisses of the cane, this being a first whipping and thus the most pleasing of all so far as the victim's reactions would be concerned.
"Make up your mind to it Terri, you are going to be whipped and soundly whipped, my girl," Miss Sanderson responded in a dry inflexible voice. "Oh you'll kill me, that awful cane-oh please, don't use that on me, please, I can't stand pain!" Terri wailed, dragging uselessly at her cuffed wrists and trying to lift herself off the whipping frame. These maneuvers served to accentuate the magnificent elasticity and resilience of her bare behind and lovely creamy legs, and the woman's eyes glittered behind the spectacles as she approached the helpless victim. Now, shitting the cane to her left hand, she passed her right palm over Terri's naked asscheeks, and the defiant young beauty uttered a choking gasp and instinctively tightened all her muscles in a desperate attempt to diminish the most prominent section of her voluptuous young body to this demeaning touch. She closed her eyes and shuddered with an intense humiliation as Miss Sanderson continued to stroke and palpate the globes of her bare ass, down to the tops of her thighs and then back up to the chinkbown again. It was almost a relief for her when at last the directress of the school moved back and grasped the cane in her right hand, swished it about in the air a bit to get the heft of it, and then remarked, "My custom is to give every new girl at least twenty strokes, Terri. But I think your insolence and defiance to my assistants as well as to me call for a few more."
"Oh my G-God, oh no, not so many, please, Miss Sanderson, I'll be obedient, only please don't use that awful cane on me, please!" Terri tearfully entreated.
In vain. Placing herself at the naked girl's left, Miss Sanderson slowly raised the cane and then brought it down with a sharp crack across the tops of Terri's delectably rounded satiny hips. The burning sting was a new and atrocious experience for Terri Blanton. Under the cut, her hips jerked convulsively and she lifted herself from the frame, her naked tits heaving wildly, as she yanked frantically at her cuffed wrists, her flushed, contorted face turning back over her left shoulder to peer at her tormentress: "Ahrrr, oh don't don't, it hurts, it hurts so!" she tearfully complained.
This particular rattan was not only flexible and thin but narrow enough to be able to strike-exactly where its wielder desired. It was at most pencil-thick, and it would constitute a severe ordeal for Terri's very first thrashing. Now pressing the cane across the huddling asscheeks, about an inch below where the first already bright welt had risen on the creamy skin, Miss Sanderson slowly drew back her arm and applied the second swishing cut. With such an implement it was not necessary to strike bruisingly or brutally; a deft swishing flick imparted an unbearable burning sting, particularly when the spanks were repeated and when they were administered to a bottom drawn as tightly and as distended as Terri Blanton's was on the infamous whipping frame.
Once again Terri's body bounded and squirmed, her hips weaving from side to side in the most lascivious manner imaginable.
Her wailing cry rang out, followed by tearful entreaties for mercy. "Besides being impertinent and disrespectful, you're also a selfish little coward," Miss Sanderson mocked. Terri's face turned scarlet, and she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath and resolved to endure her punishment as stoically as possible, just to show this cruel woman. Satisfied with her effect, Miss Sanderson now patted the right upper summit of Terri's quivering velvety ass, and, after a prolonged moment of fearful suspense for the unfortunate naked culprit, applied a deft whisking cut which smacked crisply against the lusciously rounded hemisphere at exactly the place she had marked-A strangled gasp escaped, though this time : Terri managed to control any outcry; nevertheless she could not suppress the convulsive leaping of her bottom under the I hot kiss of the flexible rattan. The fourth spank fell to the other upper summit, and j now the interesting pattern began to grow on the creamy white skin of Terri Blanton's voluptuous virgin posterior.
Grinding her teeth and closing her eyes as tightly as she could, her fingers clawing at the post, Terri managed to hold back her I outcries under the next three cuts. But the eighth cuts, a particularly cruel slash which j leaped over the roundest and fullest curves of both bottomglobes, wrested a sobbing shriek of pain from her panting lips. Two more quick stingers followed, one to each lower summit, and then Miss Sanderson paused to contemplate her handiwork. Terri's white skin was quite sensitive and the first two or three marks of the cane were already darkening angrily on the quivering bare bottom. Her toes curled and twisted, and she was feverishly shifting herself on the hard planks of the whipping frame in an effort to ease the torturing traction and spreadeagling and distension of her helplessly naked body.
"Get ready, Terri!" the directress ordered after this lengthy pause, and reached the cane out to press its end against the base of the right asscheek, as yet untouched. Terri sucked in her breath and moaned, pressing herself down tightly against the frame and trying to contract all of her muscles in useless defense. Swisshhh-Spattt! the cane whistled through the air and the characteristic, dry crisp sound of impact on tender naked girl-flesh was heard. "Mmmffffaghhh-ooooh, oh how it hurts, oh do please stop, oh please I can't stand anymore!" Terri moaned feverishly, again turning her tearstained face back over her shoulder to appeal to her executioner.
"Nonsense!" Miss Sanderson chuckled sardonically. "You haven't even had half of your Welcoming In, my girl. Your bottom is firm and elastic and quite healthy, and it can stand a good deal of spanking, so you may be sure you will not leave here until you have had your just due. Now get your bottom ready!" With this, she pressed the cane against the base of the other asscheek, and after a prolonged moment which tortured her victim's suspense-ridden nerves all the more, applied the stinging cut. The tightly-drawn flesh at the base of the female ass is especially sensitive to spanking, especially in the position in which poor Terri Blanton found herself tethered. A piercing and prolonged cry at once was heard, and Terri arched and ground and twisted herself back and forth over the whipping frame as she again looked back through tear-blinded eyes to supplicate for mercy.
At twenty, Miss Sanderson paused again. By now, in her methodical progression of flogging, there was scarcely an inch on both quaking, flinching asscheeks that did not bear a bright red weal. She had taken pains not to crisscross any of them or to repeat any of the marks to break the skin. As a consequence, poor Terri was experiencing the very fires of hell searing her tender virgin ass, and her body was shaken by interminable convulsive tremors as well as by her choking sobs as now she desperately begged for a cessation of the torture. "Ohh-ouuuu-M-Miss S-Sanderson, oh my god, you're killing me-I can't stand it-oh please, I'll be good, I promise I will, I'll do anything, only no more, please not more!"
"I think Terri, that you can easily stand thirty. You have ten more left," her tormentress coldly declared, reaching out and tapping the lower left cheek of her victim's voluptuous ass where there was still an area of untouched white skin. Swisssh-Spattt! the flexible rattan leaped through the air to cling to the velvety rondure, and Terri's head fell back as her mouth gaped in a wild "Ahrrrrowwwuuuuu!!! Oh please, not more, I can't stand it, please, oh I'll do anything you want, anything, if you'll only stop, oh my poor bottom, my poor bottom!"
"You are beginning to feel less unruly and impertinent, I dare say," Miss Sanderson sarcastically taunted her victim as she now pressed the cane against the lower summit of the other buttock.
"Oh yes-please-I'm sorry-I'll study-I'll be good-I won't run away, I promise, only for god's sake don't spank me anymore with that awful cane!" Terri pleaded.
"Your bottom is getting rather badly marked, but there are still a few places that need touching up," was the heartless rejoinder. Swisssh-Spattt! Once again the cane described a hissing arc through the air, to attack the base of Terri's right bottomglobe.
Twice more the cane visited the base of Terri's naked left buttock, and once more to the right. Now, as Miss Sanderson paused and again stepped back to regard the tossing, vividly marked naked ass of the delicious victim, it appeared that another blow almost anywhere on that martyred posterior would break the skin and draw blood.
Slyly, lowering the cane, Miss Sanderson announced, "I am going to give you three more strokes, and then your first spanking will be finished, Terri. Get ready!"
"Oh please don't, oh please not hard, oh I'm dying, oh have mercy-aiii-eowwwouuuu!!! Oh not there between my legs, for god's sake, oh please not there, oh do have mercy on me, oh you're killing me, you're killing me!" came the frenzied cry as Miss Sanderson insidiously flicked up the cane right into Terri's gaping virgin cunthole. The girl's naked body seemed to leap forward, held back only by her bonds, and then fell back clattering on the whipping frame, her hips writhing in an interminable lascivious movement as if she were trying to rub hersle off and thus disperse the atrocious sting of that infamous cut. But since there was no wood against which her cunt could press, this consolation was, alas, not available to her.
The second cut was given fully a minute later, and Miss Sanderson slowly lifted the cane and pressed it up against the pink gape of her victim's pussy, holding it there for a long moment while poor Terri babbled her pleas for mercy. When it stung, her wild cry was deafening, and her body lunged and twisted in every direction, as tears flowed down her cheeks and drops of agony-sweat rivulted from her armpits down her heaving sides.
"One more," Miss Sanderson promised. "Do you think you can be good, or shall I continue after this?"
"Oh no-I'll do anything, anything in the world, only please, please, for God's sake, not between my legs again, oh I'm dying, I'm dying!" Terri wailed hysterically.
"You've never been so much alive as you are at this moment, I'm quite sure, my girl. Now get ready. There!" The cane leaped up again between the shuddering straddled thighs of the naked young sufferer, biting into the tender cunt with a cruel smack. Terri's head tilted back and she yelled wildly and threshed about: "Ohhh-eeearrrhhhh!!! Ohhhh, ohh, mmercy, mm-mercy, oh no more, please, oh please!!"
"Yes, that was the last spank," Miss Sanderson avidly contemplated the whimpering, sobbing, writhing naked culprit. Then she stepped back and let the cane drop to the floor. Terri bowed her head and began to weep desperately, for her body was a holocaust of hot agony. She could not see that Phillipa Sanderson had removed her spectacles, and then with both hands was carefully removing a wig, revealing closely cropped black hair. Next the directress of the school began to zip down her black dress, til she stood in bra and panties. Then reaching behind her, she let the bra drop, but there were no breasts!
Phillipa Sanderson was actually Phillip Sanderson, a man. And now that the nylon panties were shoved down, he stood with his prick in savage erection.
"Are you ready to obey me now, Terri? Or shall I use a paddle on your bottom?" he demanded.
"Oh nooo!!! I'll do anything you want, oh please, Miss Sanderson, please don't spank me anymore, I'll do anything!" Terri wailed.
"I'm going to put your newly found obedience to the test, my girl," he chuckled. Then, stepping up to her, his hands gripping her sides, he edged his prick up against the tender gaping pink cleft of her well-caned cunthole and pressed himself between the twitching, inflamed lips of her virgin vulva!
"Ohhnh-what are you-oh God-you-ohh noooo!!!" Terri twisted her tearstained, contorted face around and discovered to her consternation that "Miss" Sanderson had been replaced by a very virile male, the evidence of which she was already feeling up against her cherry, for Phillip Sanderson's cock had just pressed up against the virgin seal.
"Be quiet, you rebellious little bitch!" he chuckled lecherously. "You promised to do anything, and if you go back on your word now, you'll taste the paddle and maybe some more of those other very useful whips on the wall. Submit, Terri, and your lot will be much easier in this school."
With this, he drew back a bit, and then lunged savagely. Terri's head lifted and her face congealed in a rictus of unspeakable despair and agony. He had just torn through her cherry, and now he was impaled in her to the balls.
Overwhelmed with lust by the exquisite reactions of her virgin bottom under her first whipping, Phillip Sanderson now fucked her vigorously until at last his bubbling gism laved the quaking walls of her churning cunt.
"When he had finished, he pantingly withdrew and commended her ironically, "Now that you're broken in, you will find it easier to obey from now on. I will have a maid sent to take you down and ease your hurts, my dear. And then I'll see you in a day or so and let you begin your curriculum."
CHAPTER THREE
Fifteen minutes later, an attractive maid, with short bobbed chestnut hair and wearing a modestly cut black satin dress and black, high-heeled pumps, entered the punishment chamber and walked towards the whipping frame to which the naked dark-brown-haired victim was still attached. Terri's bottom-cheeks were covered with darkening stripes from the severe caning she had had, but nowhere was the skin broken. Her panting breasts just cleared the end of the frame and dangled like two ripe fruits, as she continued to sob and sniffle, her wrists drawn out ahead of her and gripped by the leather cuffs fixed to the sides of the round wooden upright against which the whipping frame was angled.
"I'm here to take you down and back to your room, Miss Terri," the attractive young woman announced. "You can call me Suzy if you like."
"Ohh, G-God, I-I hurt so-oh I'm so ashamed-I want to get out of here-she-he-you know-oh this is awful!" Terri moaned, her face scarlet as the young woman came towards the post and stared almost amusedly at her.
"I know," she rejoined in a calm voice, "you found out that Miss Sanderson is really Mr. Sanderson, didn't you, Miss Terri? Well, you'll get used to it."
"But do you know what he did to me? He hasn't got any right-it's criminal-I want to get out of this place and tell the police what he just did to me!" Terri wailed.
"I don't think you'll be able to do that, Miss Terri. Now let's get you untied and then you can put on your bathrobe and I'll take you back to your room. When you get there, I'll rub some soothing cream on your bottorn-my goodness, you really did get a good spanking. But if you'll take a piece of advice from me, Miss Terri, you'll be very obedient and polite to him, because all the girls in this school get punished, and it depends on just how naughty they are as to how severe the punishment is."
"But he hasn't any right to-to-to mmake love to them after wh-whipping them!" Terri Branton ingenuously wailed as Suzy, who was about twenty-six and assisted Phillip Sanderson as one of the instructresses in the school, now expertly unfastened the wristcuffs and then the similar pair which fettered Terri's slim bare ankles to the wooden frame. She took hold of the girl's elbows, and helped the sobbing naked teenager slip down from her angling altar of virginal martyrdom, and then herself stooped to retrieve the bathrobe, and helped Terri put it on.
Immediately Terri began to massage her burning, throbbing bottom, tears still running down her cheeks. She was absolutely stupefied by what had happened to her, and her cunt throbbed painfully to remind her of the extraordinary end of her punishment.
Back in her room, she was told to drop the bathrobe and stretch out on her bed on her stomach, and Suzy then proceded to rub a greenish mentholated cream into her welted bottomglobes as well as the upper, thighs. "I'd advise you to take a nap, Miss Terri," the young instructress pleasantly suggested. "Then I'll bring you your supper, and by tomorrow at eight o'clock you'll have breakfast and be ready for your first class. As a matter-of-fact, it's going to be with me, because I double here as both a maid and a teacher."
Terri moaned and squirmed, for at first the salve had seemed to burn her even more. But now gradually it had a cooling effect, easing the feverish state of her well thrashed bottom, and a few minutes after Suzy had left her room and locked her in, Terri closed her eyes and found that she could slip off into much needed slumber.
The next morning, promptly at eight, as she had promised, Suzy entered Terri's room and brought a tray of breakfast. "You have twenty minutes to eat it, and then you have to put on your clothes and come with me," she informed the dark-brown-haired young rebel. "Your school uniform will be ready day after tomorrow, but for the time being Mr. Sanderson has decided that you may wear the clothes in which you came to the school."
Terri was about to retort indignantly to the highhanded way in which she was being treated, but Suzy had anticipated it: "I think you had better eat your breakfast quickly and not be late. If you are, I myself shall have to write you down for several demerits. In this school, a girl's punishments are decided by the number of demerits she has at the end of each and every week."
Trembling with frustrated indignation and not a little fear, Terri Blanton hastened to obey again. After she had put back on her pretty brown cotton dress over her bra and panty set, a garterbelt, her charcoal-brown nylons and her trim little brown suede pumps, the young instructress led her out of her room down the hall and up the stairs to a corridor which had several large doors, each of which, Suzy informed Terri, led to a classroom.
Then Suzy, who just before entering the classroom had told Terri that in class she was to call her Miss Denton, opened the door and ushered the new people of the Sanderson School into the room. There were only about ten other girls, all seated at old fashioned desks, while Suzanne Denton's place was a large desk on a slightly raised platform, with a straight-backed chair beside the desk and a comfortable leather-padded swivel chair behind it.
The other girls looked up as Terri Blanton entered and was gestured to take a seat in the very front row under the watchful eye of the handsome young instructress who now took her place and then brightly addressed the class, "Good morning, girls."
All of them chorused back the polite answer, and then Suzanne Denton lifted a book from her desk and remarked, "Now, we're going to read aloud from this book on proper etiquette for young ladies. It's quite old fashioned, going back to about Emily Post, but the maxims in it are quite as essential and useful today as they were when this book was written. Besides, Mr. Sanderson expects you to be able to pass an examination on this book a week from now, so you are warned. Arlene, you may begin."
A tall, slim, light-brown-haired young beauty who was about nineteen, slowly rose from her desk and, opening the book to the requisite page, began to read aloud from it. Terri Blanton's boredom returned, but this time it was held in check by her painful awareness of what risks she ran in showing her contempt and disdain for this unusual school. Even though the angry dark welts had vanished from her tender bottom, thanks to the medicated salve, the pain seemed to have disappeared, except that whenever she shifted on the uncomfortable wooden seat, the flesh of her behind seemed extremely sensitive.
After Arlene had read for about five minutes, Suzanne Denton called upon Martha Williams to continue. Martha was seventeen, with a sullen face, highset cheekbones, a tawny complexion accentuated by thick freckles on her cheeks and nose, and she wore her jet-black hair in a long pageboy. Terri Blanton turned partway to watch her stand up and read, and her eyes widened as she saw in detail the costume which these girls were wearing and against which her own looked quite old fashioned.
Every girl in that classroom without exception save herself, of course, wore a low-necked white satin blouse with short puffed sleeves, a black satin skirt so ridiculously short that when a girl was seated, its hem barely concealed about two inches of thigh, gauzy black net opera-length hose, and stiletto-heeled red leather pumps with open toe.
Terri found a copy of the book on her desk, and thumbed through it. She rolled her eyes ceilingward to indicate her utter distaste for such a dead subject, but Suzanne Denton perceived this and, when the girl had concluded her reading, casually drawled, "Of course, all you girls know that strict attention is to be paid to every lesson every day. My little black book is open for demerits, and don't forget that Mr. Sanderson expects me to punish every girl who accumulates enough of them. Now then, Frances, suppose you continue reading."
The meaningful glance which she sent Terri spoke volumes, and the dark-brown-haired teenager, greatly abashed and not wanting another spanking on top of the one she had had just yesterday afternoon, forced herself to study the book with at least pretended interest.
Frances was the name of a slim, auburn-haired girl of about seventeen, her hair styled in two long pigtails which fell below her shoulderblades. Her face was impertinent, with a snub nose and petulant, small but quite ripe mouth. She began to read, then glanced at someone who was whispering to her, and suddenly giggled.
"I fail to see what could be so amusing about the way young ladies should conduct themselves at the dining table," Suzanne Denton tartly cut in." That will be one demerit, Frances, for not paying attention in class. Let me see now," here she turned over several pages in a little spiral-bound black notebook untill she came to a specific page. "That gives you five demerits already. You have your choice of wiping the slate clean now, Frances, or of waiting until Friday when I am certain that Mr. Sanderson will want to see you in the punishment room."
At this the slim auburn-haired teenager gulped and turned pale, her eyes very wide: "On please no, M-Miss Denton! Please don't report me to him, please!"
"Then I take it you would prefer to have your punishment here and now to wipe the slate clean, is that right?"
"Y-yes-M-Miss D-Denton," the attractive teenager faintly stammered.
"Very well, you may prepare yourself then. And you, Terri, as a newcomer to the school, I expect you to watch very carefully to what is going to happen to Frances. It has an excellent lesson of value for you," the handsome young instructress ironically added.
The auburn-haired girl had risen from her desk and was reluctantly making her way to the platform. Slowly, she knelt down on the straight-backed chair, then shamefacedly hoisted her miniskirt up above her waist and held it with both hands, revealing a boyishly compact jouncy bottom sheathed in a pair of the briefest white nylon panties Terri Blanton had ever seen. They did not even cover the base of the pale-milky globes, and as Frances bowed her head and shoulders over the top of the chairback, her slim fingers keeping a nervous but tight hold on her uptrussed skirt, she also clenched her thighs together so that the narrow crease between her bottomcheeks grew narrower still.
Meanwhile, the instructress had risen, opened the top drawer of her desk, and took out a black leather taws, about twenty-eight inches in length, some four inches of which were of double thickness to serve as a handle, and the last five inches of which had been cut at the end to form to "fingers" which would impart a burning sting to the threatened, huddling bottomcheeks of the now apprehensive culprit.
Calmly moving towards her victim, the instructress now tucked the taws under her left arm, and proceeded to yank down the tiny panties to the girl's knees. Frances uttered a choking sob and bowed her head still further down, which had the effect of thrusting out and at the same time tightening the skin of her saucy naked seat.
Terri's eyes widened with incredulous fascination at the thought that even in a classroom such humiliating and shameful penance could take place. Without the least hurry, Suzanne Denton shoved the rolled-up skirt and half-petticoat higher than poor Frances' fingers were holding them, then posed her left palm on the middle of the teenager's back and announced, "I am going to give you fifteen, Frances. You will count aloud and say, 'Thank you, Miss Denton, for not telling Mr. Sanderson how naughty I was today.' Is that understood?"
"Y-yes, m'am," Frances' voice was husky and trembling with justifiable apprehension. The muscles of her slim coltish thighs rippled and flexed under the sheer nylon hose, and the flesh of her upper thighs had begun to twitch nervously. Slowly, Suzanne Denton drew back the taws, poised it in the air a moment, and then delivered the first spank across the tops of Frances' naked hips. The teenager jerked her hips convulsively about, straightening a little and lifting her face, while a sobbing groan of "Oww-ouu! One, th-thank you for not telling Mr. Sanderson how n-naughty I-I was, ohh, that hurts so, Miss Denton!"
"It is supposed to. Now take your position again, and keep your bottom well out, young lady," the handsome instructress ordered.
Terri's breath was quick and erratic, and she could not take her eyes off the pale, milky bottom over whose upper curves a gradually darkening band appeared, imprinted by the width and most of the length of the Scotch taws. The obscenely smacking, loud noise which the leather strap made as it clung to the teenager's squirming, proffered bare bottom made her start almost each time.
Frances was hardly stoic. From groans, she passed to shrill cries, to looking back frantically with tears running down her cheeks to implore mercy in the most abject terms. She kicked first one foot and then the other, sometimes crossing one ankle over the other and then recrossing, as her hips swerved and jerked and lunged during the progression of the spanking. Moreover, after the ninth, she also began to lose count and to forget the formula of thanks which the young instructress had imposed as punishment. Consequently, it was not till after she had had an "official" count of twenty-one spanks that Suzanne Denton ended the weeping auburn-haired teenager's punishment. Yet her penance was still to continue, for until the end of the class about an hour later, poor Frances was condemned to kneel and bow her head and shoulders over the back of the straight-backed chair, all the while holding up her little half-slip and suggestively short skirt, with her panties still snugged down about her knees and her blazingly striped, shuddering naked posterior in full view of all.
In the afternoon, another lesson followed, again with Suzaane Denton presiding over the small group. By now, Terri Blanton had been sufficiently impressed by the severity of discipline at the Sanderson School to offer silent and attentive demeanor throughout the period. However, of the other girls, Sue Lorton, a frecklefaced, petite, sandy-haired blonde of eighteen, received a demerit for not being able to explain a lengthy quotation from the book on etiquette for young ladies, and Terri saw Sue wring her hands and bite her lips in apprehension, for, as the instructress ironically added, "I'm afraid, Sue, you are going to have a private interview with Mr. Sanderson before the week is over."
At three-thirty, school was dismissed for the day, but there followed a gymnasium period out on the recreation grounds, under the supervision of two other instructresses, both in their middle thirties and extremely handsome women. All the girls assembled, and Terri noticed that she was the only one who wore what might be called "normal" attire, since without fail every other girl wore the same ridiculously short skirt and the sheerest and most provocative of nylons. A full hour was devoted to pushups, squats, jumping and clapping hands and all the other gymnasium routine which is customary at coeducational schools, so that Terri was thoroughly exhausted and sweating by the time the exercising was over.
Once again, supper was brought to her on a tray, and by Miss Denton herself, though the latter smilingly remarked, "As soon as your wear your school uniform, young lady, you will be treated just like the others. So you may as well enjoy what time remains of being treated like a pampered, wealthy pupil, which you obviously are to begin with."
Terri had learned better than to make an indignant answer, as she would have done in the older days before her uncle had enrolled her at this incredible institution. She merely turned red, looked down and said nothing.
Two days later, with breakfast, Miss Denton brought in a dress box which contained the clothes which Terri Blanton would henceforth wear at the Sanderson School. She stood there watching while the blushing teenager stood naked then donned the obligatory "uniform," as it was called. The fit of the panties was extremely tight and it chafed Terri over her cunt and asshole, while her skirt seemed so short that even sitting down hiked it up almost to her crotch. She found that the heels of her pumps were also much higher than she was accustomed to, and she had to make tiny mincing steps in order to move about, even at that feeling restricted and comically awkward.
By the end of that first week, Terri Blanton, though she was probably not ready to admit it, was already a changed young beauty. She had learned to curb her natural and thoughtless impulses to answer back, to argue and to complain. Her only thought was not getting on the black-demerit list which was always turned into to Mr. Sanderson, because she swore to herself that she would never earn another whipping.
But on Friday afternoon after the gymnasium class, Miss Denton, who was helping the other two instructresses conduct it, approached the perspiring, flushed, dark-brown-haired teenager and casually remarked, "You're to go right to Mr. Sanderson's office, Terri. He wants to see you."
"Oh gosh! Do you know-do you know what he wants, M-Miss Denton?" Terri's eyes widened with fear and her face paled.
"He'll tell you himself. You'd better not keep him waiting, either. Now run right along."
Nodding and blushing hotly, feeling a new foreboding enter her psyche as she left the recreation field, Terri Blanton walked to the private office of the head of this unique school and timidly knocked at the door. A crisp, "Come in!" made her tremble as she reached for the knob of the door and opened it.
This time, there was no disguise; Phillip Sanderson sat at his desk going through several typewritten reports from his instructresses and the conduct of their charges over this past week. It was a rule, Suzanne Denton had told Terri only the other day, that whenever a girl was naughty enough to get her name in the black book as having registered a certain number of demerits, she would be punished in public at the Saturday ending that week in which she had committed her misdemeanors.
"You-you wanted to see me, Mr. S-Sanderson?" Terri's voice was unsteady and low.
"Yes, I did." He looked up from the reports, contemplated her, and then smiled. "Your uniform is very becoming, Terri. I want you to take a walk with me right now. As you know, at the back of the school and recreation grounds, we have a private little woods all our own, even with a summerhouse. Everything is fenced in, because I was able to acquire the property from an eccentric old man who was anxious to raise some immediate cash so he could go to Europe with a dear young friend."
"Yes-yes-sir."
"The reports on you for your first week aren't too bad, Terri. I have a feeling that your Welcoming In had a great deal to do with helping you to get that good start," he said with mocking sarcasm which made her turn a flaming red and lower her eyes as she stood there, very much ill at ease, arms at her sides.
He gave her a shrewd, speculative look, and then continued: "I am certain that you have many questions to ask, so I will anticipate a few of them by telling you that this is not at all a school for ordinary pupils. Without exception-and that includes yourself, young lady-every girl here has had great problems in getting along with her parents or her relatives, with other people and servants, and nearly everyone is headstrong, selfish and completely spoiled both to the realities of life and the duties which membership in society imposes upon the individual."
Terri suddenly found courage and breath to blurt out, even though her face turned crimson, "I-I guess maybe you had to spank me because you spank everybody-but-but what you did after that-that-was criminal-you didn't have any right-"
"To be sure," he blandly interrupted, "you are technically correct, Terri. However, I wanted to, and knowing your temperament as I do, it was not wrong in making a woman of you." He permitted himself a mocking smile which made her gasp and blush all the more. "For instance, there are a few young ladies here who are engaged to important and very eligible bachelors, and they are here only because their relatives and sometimes even their parents insist that they be given stern discipline so that they will be worthy of taking up their new roles as wives and mothers. With you, there is no such problem. Your uncle, I may say frankly, wants to be rid of you, because you have always been a most annoying problem, with your sulkiness, your tantrums, and your absolutely inexcusable selfishness. Don't speak yet!" as Terri opened her mouth. "However, to show you that I am just as well as strict, I'm going to take you for a little walk now and show you the punishment of a mature woman who very cleverly tricked me into believing that her sixteen-year-old daughter was the real malefactor and deserved exemplary punishment. I have done some checking and I find that the mother was herself to blame for he divorce and for the very near-scandal in which she tried to involve her daughter so that she could have her gigolo to herself and her ex-husband's handsome settlement.
Indeed, so that justice may be appropriate, I am going to let the daughter punish her own mother. Come along now."
Terri was further surprised by his cryptic words, and she did not quite know what to make of his absolutely ruthless candor in referring to his having fucked her without any explanation after having made her poor bottom suffer so terribly.
However, by now she knew the wisdom of remaining silent so as not to antagonize this domineering, handsome and very virile male, and so she meekly followed him out of the main building and out through the recreation grounds and thence through a wire gate which led into several acres of beautifully wooded grounds.
There were gravel paths, and Phillip Sanderson chose one to the right while Terri meekly followed. About fifty feet on down the way he had chosen, he stopped and gestured to Terri: "Look here, young lady."
"Ohh, my g-gosh!" Terry gasped, recoiling with a hand to her mouth and her eyes huge with disbelief.
To her left, just off the gravel path, stood a round wooden post with a crosspiece at its top, about shoulder height. With her back against this post and with her wrists solidly locked in the yoke holes at each end of the crossbar, stood a woman who was naked form the neck to the waistband of her clinging green satin skirt. A black hood was over her head, with holes cut out only for the mouth and nose, but not the eyes. A waxed cord circled her waist and fixed her to the post, knotted securely at the back of the post. She wore charcoal-brown nylons and trim brown leather pumps. Her skin was a soft baby-pink, and her breasts shudderingly rose and fell, two closely spaced full yet very firm gloves with brownish aurolae and well developed nipples. Her navel, shallow and wide, could be seen just at the waistband of her tight skirt. Standing just to the woman's left was a pretty, slim, black-haired girl with a heart-shaped face, who wore the uniform of the school and who held in her right hand a short-handled whip with three tapering, plaited leather thongs.
"Good afternoon, Ruby," Phillip Sanderson said with a cruel smile as his eyes fastened on the panting, naked boobs of the captive at the crossarm post. "I suppose you're ready?"
"You bet I am, Mr. Sanderson! I'm going to whip Mummy's big tits till she wishes I'd never been born," the black-haired teenager vindictively replied.
A muffled and incoherent moaning arose from the captive, and on closer scrutiny, Terri perceived that although there was a slit in the hood to show the victim's mouth, there was some flesh-colored adhesive over her lips so that she could not speak. But through the other slit in the mask, the finely chiseled thin wings of her aristocratic nostrils flared and shrank convulsively, and from time to time her wrists tried to twist and pull free of the chafing wooden yoke holes.
"You see, Terri," Phillip Sanderson turned to the horrified dark-brown-haired girl beside him," this is the mother I was telling you about. She had Ruby sent to this school and unfortunately I took her word for the reason. Later I discovered that what she really wanted was to get rid of Ruby, have her lover and at the same time milk Ruby's father of every cent he had. So you see, justice does prevail at times even if at the moment you can't believe it. Well then, Ruby, you've been very patient, so you may as well begin."
"Can I whip her all I want?"
"Within reason, my dear. We don't want to mar her permanently, or injure her health. Those are light straps, but I think they will sting. I should say that fifty lashes, twenty-five to each breast, would be quite sufficient. After that, we'll have a talk about whether you're satisfied."
"I won't ever be!" Ruby broke out, her eyes flashing with spite and sensual cruelty, unusual in a girl so young. "When I think of all the spankings I had from you, Mr. Sanderson, and how you had me and everything, I could just take the skin off Mummy everywhere!" she added with a defiant toss of her lovely head.
Not the woman's moaning grew louder, and her body jerked and squirmed all that her bonds allowed. But her young daughter moved now to the woman's right, drew back the plaited whip, and applied a vicious cut over the top of the right breast. Instantly the half-naked victim's body jerked and threshed about, her head lunging forward and then thudding painfully back against the round wooden post, while her raucous cry was muffled by the adhesive gag.
"Not too fast, Ruby, or you'll lose a great deal of the effect," Phillip Sanderson warned.
"Thanks, Mr. Sanderson, I'll remember that. Now then, Mummy, aren't you sorry you sent me here? See how much Mr. Sanderson has taught me?" the black-haired girl mocked her suffering mother. Hiss-Crackkk!! The whip leaped across the very center of the half-naked woman's left breast, stinging the nipple atrociously. Maddened twistings and sobbing groans were produced by that second diabolical stroke.
Terri put her hand over her eyes, but Phillip Sanderson grabbed her wrist and pulled it back, hissing, "I want you to watch this carefully before we go on. Unless of course, you want to take her place."
Terri uttered a groan and shook her head. She watched as Ruby ferociously alternated on her mother's tits, first right, and then left, concentrating on the firm nipples which soon darkened and swelled. Sweat poured down the woman's sides and waist, her body shook and squirmed and jerked madly now at every cut. Her head turned every way, bowing falling back from side to side, and her incoherent words tried to force through the gag with a heartrending anguish of her torment.
"Come along," Phillip Sanderson whispered to the trembling beauty beside him, took her wrist and led her away.
About fifty feet further on, they came to another clearing between the woods and the well-marked gravel path. In this clearing there was a round stone pedestal in whose center was a wooden platform, also round and elevated from the stone about two feet in the air by means of a rotating metal post. Kneeling on the platform on all fours, naked except for bra and panties, her wrists and knees securely tied with cords to heavy metal rings set into the wood, was a trembling light-brown-haired young woman of about twenty, with delicate features, her slender figure made the more exciting by the contrastingly ample development of both breasts and bottom. Her skin was tawny and smooth, and she was blindfolded. At the sound of their footsteps, she uttered a gasp and called out, "Mr. Sanderson, have pity, please let me off just this once!"
"This, Terri, is Dolores, she's almost twenty-one, and she has a violent temper. In fact, she was sent here after she nearly tried to poison her uncle's coffee. Isn't that so, my dear?"
"Y-yes, yes sir," the culprit groaned.
Phillip Sanderson moved closer to the rotary platform and contemplated the jutting, round, deeply creased asscheeks of the victim, snugged in the filmy pantybriefs, which exposed the base of her bottom and seemed to make it look more naked and lewd entirely without covering. Her right hand moved out to caress and stroke the palpitating cheeks, and Dolores gasped and squirmed uneasily.
"She has been here two months, Terri, and she's finally losing her temper and her selfishness. She has been sentenced to stay here until midnight, so that anyone who comes along this path between now and then may administer a good spanking. There's a little sign on the back of this bench right over here which, as you see, explains all that.
"Oh please, oh please spare me, I'll be so good, you'll see, have mercy on me, please, Mr. Sanderson!" Dolores sobbed.
Phillip Sanderson walked over to a huge bush and peeled a long flexible switch, swished it in the air to test its heft, and then nodded his satisfaction. Moving closer to the trembling blindfolded culprit, he ripped off her panties and then squatted down and reached towards the round metal post on which the circular wooden platform rested. Touching a switch, he set th platform in motion, at a moderate speed. The unfortunate captive thus moved around and around on this whipping platform. He let her go by several times, keeping his switch raised on high, but when her bottom came towards him for the third time, he applied a whistling cut over the base of her plumply rounded asscheeks. A piercing yell of pain was torn from Dolores, she wrenched at her bonds, twisting her blindfolded face round to sob out a supplication for mercy.
Terri couldn't help watching, almost hypnotized in spite of her apprehension and revulsion. She felt her flesh crawling every time Phillip Sanderson raised that cruel switch over the girl's now furiously wealed, quaking and squirming asscheeks. Before he decided to continue his stroll, he had applied twenty cruel cuts which left horizontal patterns on Dolores' Soft pink-sheened ass from chinkbone to the top of her thighs, and then left her writhing and moaning' and sobbing deliriously.
The path wound now towards the left, and about a hundred and fifty feet beyond Dolores, another clearing was reached. Once again Terri uttered a strangled cry of horrified surprise. Here there was a rectangular wooden planking to the left, and on it, fixed to a spanking stock, with leather cuffs gripping her lower thighs just above the knee and her wrists, with a broad black leather strap wound over her back and connecting on the other side of the heavy wooden block, her wrists fixed in another pair of cuffs at the lower front sides of this block, there appeared a coppery-haired girl of about .seventeen. Her little white panties were already pulled down to the cuffs; her oval-cheeked, widely creased, pale-milky skinned bottom thrust out in the most tempting and lewd manner. The redhead, wearing only a bra, had already begun to sob and to beg for mercy as soon as she heard footsteps approaching.
"This is Agnes," Phillip Sanderson turned to his horrified companion, "She was caught being naughty with an older girl. That girl is twenty and her name is Noreen, and I myself will punish her tonight. Of course, since Noreen is older she will have the more severe punishment, but I don't think Agnes will complain about what she's going to get. What did I promise you this morning, Agnes?"
"Oh please, Mr. Sanderson, please not so many, please, I'll never do it again-I couldn't help it-N-Noreen made me-"
"Don't add lying to your naughtiness, young lady: Once again, I'll ask you: How many spanks did I promise you?" he sternly repeated.
"F-forty." Agnes' voice choked with sobs and her body squirmed as much as her bonds allowed. Not being blindfolded she turned her face back to appeal to her implacable executioner, and Terri saw that her face was heartshaped, with full tremulous lips, enormous blue eyes filled with tears, and a dainty little Grecian nose.
"You are correct, and so I shall give you half now and the other half when I return from my walk with Terri here," Phillip Sanderson rejoined. Terri could now see that at the edge of the wooden planking on which the spanking stocks were posed, an oval-shaped leather paddle lay ready for usage. He picked it up, brandished it, swept it through the air a few times, took his stand at the unfortunate young girl's left, and raised it slowly, then brought it down with a wicked Thwackkk across the ripest curves of her charmingly rounded, narrowly creased carnation-tinted asscheeks. A frantic squeal of anguish burst out at once, as Agnes tried to wriggle her bottom from side to side to shake off the burning pain, which left a bright pink outline of the spanking paddle clearly imprinted on her tender bare satiny skin.
Terri was trembling as he counted calmly and slowly, counting aloud at each stroke, inflicted twenty vigorous whacks with the paddle, then replaced it on the edge of the planking, and turned back to her and said, "Let's go on, shall we, my dear?"
Another two hundred feet away, they came to still another clearing, and here there stood a wooden St. Andrew's cross to which was tethered a blindfolded, buxom honey-haired girl of about sixteen, her panties already removed and lying between her straddled legs, wearing only the filmy bra which was part of the "school uniform."
"This is Elsie, who has been caught playing with herself and being impertinent in class," he told the by now pale and shivering Terri. "For the second offense, a good spanking with the strap is recommended. For the first, and certainly the much more heinous sin, she will be punished in the very place she sinned, and with a special whip ideal for application to that tender and very intimate region. In this case, we'll have the second first," he ironically ended. Terri's eyes followed him as he squatted down and picked up a black leather strap, with doubly thick end and a cutout hole in the middle of it to serve as handle, ending in an oval flap which gave atrocious stinging power to the lashing.
Poor Elsie received twenty with the strap across her resilient, juttingly rounded ass-cheeks, and while she exhaled her sobs and cries and fervent hysterical entreaties to be spared the rest of her punishment, he stooped down again and picked up a curious little whip. It was only a foot long, and three inches of that was a round leather handle which he gripped solidly in his right hand. The nine-inch thong was thinner than a pencil, braided and of fine brown leather which ended in a fiendishly tapering little tip.
"Fifteen between the legs, Elsie," he announced to the weeping penitent.
Frenziedly the girl sought to clench her thighs shut against this horrid sentence, but of course she could not because her ankles were corded to rings set into the cross at each end of its X-shaped sections. Lowering the little whip towards the ground, he took a step forward and swept it up between her straddled thighs, attacking her tender cunt. Elsie's body seemed to surge upward along the cross, her head tilted back, and a piercing shriek was torn from her.
But Phillip Sanderson continued the whipping, spacing the other fourteen cuts about a minute apart, while the hysterical naked sufferer swore abjectly never to be naughty again, and even went so far as shamelessly to call out, "Owww, ahrrr, oh Mr. Sanderson, you can have me, you can do anything you want with me, but oh please, for Lordie's sake, don't hit me between my legs anymore, oh please don't, I can't stand it, I'm dying!"
"For your shamelessness in saying such a thing aloud before my companion, Elsie," he said sternly, "you shall have two extras in the very same place." And he proceeded to inflict them, heedless of the frantic young girl's wildly incoate yells and shrieks for mercy.
"I think we have gone far enough, Terri," he remarked casually. "Let's turn back."
"Oh yes," Terri panted, staring at him as if he were the very devil himself. But he stopped on the way back to administer the other twenty paddle spanks to the unfortunate Agnes crouching over the spanking stocks and block, and her deafening cries and shrill screams made Terri tremble and sway in this nightmarish promenade, which, if she had read the book, would have reminded her of Octave Mirbeau's "Torture Garden."
They came now, taking a fork in the gravel paths on the way back to another turn to the right. A few feet on, there was a low bench, such as one finds in most metropolitan parks throughout the country. Seating himeself comfortably, Phillip Sanderson looked up at Terri and then said, "Your conduct hasn't been too bad this first week, but in order to prove to me that you have learned something about obedience and submissiveness, I'm going to ask you to pull up your skirt, let down your panties, and go over my lap for a mild handspanking."
Terri was hypnotized. The severe whippings she had witnessed had cowed her into almost immediate compliance, even though her cheeks turned scarlet with shame as she began to make her bottom naked for this man who had not only given her the very first whipping of her entire young life, but also had fucked her and taken her cherry.
Docilely she laid herself across his lap, and he began to spank slowly and not too energetically. But after about thirty, Terri began to wriggle and squirm uneasily, and soon began to sob and then beg for mercy.
He righted her, and she saw that his prick was savagely rigid across the fly of his neatly pressed slacks.
"If you want to save yourself from the next whipping, Terri," he said hoarsely, "You're going to obey me now, aren't you?"
Fascinated, her bottom throbbing, and yet secretly experiencing emotions she had never before known, she tearfully nodded.
"Then kneel down, pull down my zipper, take out my cock and caress it with your hands," was his order.
Terri tremblingly and blushingly obeyed, and he took out a handkerchief and held it to himself so that when the spasm seized him, he spurted into it instead of into Terri's scarlet face.
Then, restoring his clothes to order, he took her arm as if nothing had happened, and they walked back to the school.
Alone in her room that night, Terri Blanton lay on her bed, slyly fingering her tickling pussy, and wondering how it was that at that moment when she had been touching his prick, she had almost found herself wanting to ask him to put it into her!
CHAPTER FOUR
For at least a week after Terri's unique stroll through the private park of the Sanderson School, the virile owner of that institution left her entirely to the occupation of her daily classes and recreation. Gradually, the hitherto rebellious teenaged beauty was discovering a curious admixture of emotions. Part of her longed to escape the boredom and monotony of the summer classes where in the main topics like etiquette, proper diction and poise and personality were discussed and exemplified rather than such regular curricular topics as history, math, and civics. But inwardly, since her healthy young body had ardently responded to the man who had been the first to initiate her into the mysteries not only of flagellation but also of fucking, her senses began to dwell on the erotic titillations which he had made her experience, until she was almost at the point of wanting to draw demerits so that she would be sent directly to him for punishment.
However, against that growing, subconscious yearning there was the very practical awareness that punishment in this unique school took particularly painful and prolonged forms, and she had only to recall the various victims pinioned and ready for the whipping along that stroll to point out to her that to go out of her way to invite a punishment might give her a good deal more suffering than pleasure.
But her rehabilitation and indeed the alteration of her erstwhile selfish and self-centered personality were taking place, whether she was willing to admit it or not. And then, on Monday which was the ninth day since she had last seen Phillip Sanderson, Suzanne Denton, her attractive young instructress, ordered her to go to his office immediately after the bell of last class that afternoon.
Terri, in her school uniform which made her look more mouthwateringly desirable than ever, found herself blushing and her heart pounding with a curiously rapid beat as she raised her hand to the door of his private office and then timidly knocked. When he called "Come in!", she entered, and her heart bounded again to see that he was smiling at her this time instead of being cold and forcefully stern.
"I have business in the city, and so I just got back this morning," he explained, though he had really no need to do so. "I've been going over the reports from Miss Denton and your recreation instructresses, Terri, and I may say that I,m quite pleased with your improvement. You aren't so eager now to run away or to have the police on me, are you, young lady?"
Before his direct gaze, she blushed violently and lowered her eyes, fidgeting and twisting her fingers together in front of her. "N-no, sir," was her faint reply.
"However, once a girl is enrolled in this school for the complete training program, she must be ready, even if she does not deserve punishment, to receive it now and then with a view towards ensuppling her and molding her character to a more courageous and durable form," he calmly remarked as he began to light his pipe. "That is why I'm going to test your obedience this afternoon."
"You mean-you mean you're going to s-spank me, Mr. Sanderson?"
"Indeed I am. However, first, you're going to come along with me and see two other young ladies polished off, as might be said. However, they are beginning their training and are very naughty and obstinate. By contrast, you will observe the severity with which I deal with them, and I will only tell you that assuming that you are docile and thoroughly submissive, you need not be afraid that you will receive quite so much. Now then, come along with me!"
He led the way again to the punishment chamber in which Terri had found herself that very first day of her enrollment in the Sanderson School. Once again she felt her heart pounding wildly, and the flesh of her inner thighs and bottom had begun to crawl and tingle with all sorts of strange, yet not totally unpleasant sensations. Phillip Sanderson was wearing slacks, a short sleeved shirt, and Indian moccasins and socks, and his athletic figure seemed particularly buoyant and his disposition quick and alert, as it always was when the punishment of an especially attractive naked female bottom was imminent.
As he opened the door, Terri gasped to see an extremely beautiful young woman of about twenty in the center of this chamber. She was stark naked except for charcoal-brown nylons and a garterbelt, and her wrists were tied to two metal rings set widely apart in the ceiling, while her ankles were corded and in turn tied to two similar rings in the floor, thus straddling and spreading her very tautly. She was also blindfolded, and as the door of the punishment chamber opened, she uttered an indignant cry: "Let me go, let me go, you haven't got any right to treat me this way! I'm going to tell my aunt, you just wait!"
"This is Corinne, Terri," Phillip Sanderson turned to the thunderstruck young beauty beside him. "She's a few months past twenty, and her indulgent old aunt has had just about enough of her madcap pranks around town. She's been seen in the company of many notorious men, she's been arrested several times for being under the influence while driving, and she thought she could laugh her way and bribe her way out of any problems. The police were interested in having her sent to a woman's prison, but her aunt persuaded them, and not without my assistance, I may add, to send her here for six months to be thoroughly disciplined and taught to exercise the responsibilities of the fortune she is to inherit when she comes to the age of twenty-one."
"You just wait, I'll get even with you for this, and with Aunt Lydia too! You wait! Untie me, it's criminal to strip me like this and tie me up, and there's someone with you to watch-oh, this is horrible-you wait, you'll pay for this, Mr. Sanderson!" Corinne stormed.
She was about five feet eight inches in height, slim but magnificently developed, particularly in the long, spaciously oval shaped bottomcheeks and the high-perched, widely spaced, uptilting full gourds of her breasts with their broad dark-rosy aurolae and their well devleoped buds. Her skin was a pale white, and her short bobbed curls, almost in a mannish do, were dyed silver-blonde. That this was not her natural hue was at once evident to both Terri and Phillip Sanderson as they stared at her gaping crotch, for there the hair was thick and black.
"This is to be Corinne's first whipping," he remarked to the bemused beauty beside him. "Now, if you were I, what would you use on this naughty young lady?"
Terri blushed furiously as his eyes fixed on her, with a mocking twinkle in them. "Well, speak up, or perhaps your imagination needs quickening by taking her place," he slyly added.
"Oh no, don't please, I-well, first I'd-I'd give her a good sound spanking with my hand, Mr. Sanderson," Terri blushingly stammered.
"Hmm. Yes, that's not a bad idea, because a first spanking for so mature a young lady would certainly be humiliating."
"Oh no! You haven't any right to do that to me, I will complain to the police, you wait and see!" Corinne cried out indignantly, yanking at her updrawn wrists and quite in vain.
"And then?" he pursued, his eyes still holding Terri's in a compelling gaze under which she began to tremble and blush all the more.
"Well, if-if she didn't want to be good them, you could give her a switching. The way she's tied up, you could switch her where it really hurts," Terri heard herself saying.
Phillip Sanderson chuckled and patted Terri's cheek. "You amaze me, my dear," he said smilingly, "Because it's as if you were reading my mind. And you're quite right, too. With her legs spread so well apart, so immodestly I might say, Corinne's big pussy is quite vulnerable, as well as the tender insides of her bare legs and the inside curves of the lower part of her big bottom which usually are not accessible in an ordinary spanking."
"Ohhh! This is monstrous!" the captive shrilly cried out, once again trying to break loose of her bonds. "This is criminal assault, and you'll go to jail for this, you just dare to do that to me!"
"You're slightly in error, Corinne. However, since you've suggested it yourself, I may consider what you call criminal assault after you have had your punishment. And perhaps by then you will even invite me to perpetrate it," was his casuistic answer.
With this, going up behind the fuming, splendid naked captive, he put his left hand on her neck, at which she lunged forward with a shrill cry of indignation and fear. Ignoring this, he extended his right hand and began to caress and stroke the velvety-smooth cheeks of her superbly resilient ass.
He prolonged this until Corinne was almost in tears, shrieking out indignantly and protesting the indecency of what he was doing to her. As his answer, he slyly passed his right hand between her straddled thighs and Terri, who was watching with fascination, her young breasts swelling feverishly, and a tingling prickling sensation beginning to infiltrate into her own soft cunt-hole, saw his finger begin to rub against the outer labia of Corinne's virgin slit. At that first contact, the young beauty frantically lunged backward with a strangled cry of horrified indignation and fear, but his left thumb and forefinger at once rewarded that maneuver by pinching one of her bottom-cheeks so cruelly that she plunged forward again with a wilder cry of pain. His forefinger now resumed its prodding of her cunt, finally disappearing between the inner lips and thrusting up to the knuckle at which her shrill cry of pain affirmed the presence of her maidenhead.
"Now I think Corinne is ready for her spanking," he remarked to Terri, as he put his left palm on the young woman's left shoulder, turned slightly towards her, and then began to apply sonorous, slowly spaced slaps of his right palm all over the magnificent, amply contoured but wonderfully firm and elastic bottomcheeks.
Corinne cried out from the very first spank, but these were indignant cries, protests against the indecency and indignity of this childish treatment. Ignoring that quite completely, Phillip Sanderson calmly continued spanking until Terri had counted some fifty good hard slaps all over her big bottom. When he stepped back, she was groaning and tears were running down her cheeks, and her milky skin was now a flaming red from chinkbone to the tops of her shuddering, flexing thighs.
"I will give her a few minutes to rest and then we will begin her switching, Terri," he told the dark-brown-haired teenager.
Calmly relighting his pipe, he invited Terri to walk around the tethered and writhing young woman while he pointed out to the blushing teenager the particular attractions of the helpless Corinne. Cupping each of her tits in turn, he rubbed his thumb pad over the nipples, firming them, stroked her belly, remarked on the very narrow but deep bellybutton which adorably marked her smooth belly, then squatted to stroke very lingeringly the inside of each of her thighs in turn from cunt to knees and back up again. Corinne's courage broke now, as well as her pride, and she wept like a child as she tearfully implored mercy, even avowing that she wouldn't complain to the police and to her aunt if only Mr. Sanderson would let her go now and put some clothes on.
He was quite deaf to all these entreaties, and now, glancing at his wristwatch, coldly remarked, "I think it's time for the switching." Then he ordered, "Do you see that long leather switch standing in the corner against the wall? Go bring it to me at once."
Terri hurried to procure it, and brought it back, examining it with no little apprehension. It was certainly as flexible as a hickory switch, and about four feet long, with a solid leather-covered handle. But what was her consternation to hear Phillip Sanderson now say, "I'd like to test this on you, Terri, to see if you approve of the choice for Gorrinne's big bottom. Kindly lift your skirt, pull down your little panties and bend well over and hold your knees until I tell you to stand."
"Oh please-"
"Of course, if you don't care to be my guinea pig," he continued in a bland tone of voice-we'll see to it that you have further and lengthier acquaintance with this switch after I have finished with Corinne."
Hardly had he finished speaking when Terri promptly denuded her voluptuous creamy bottom and bent well over, grasping her knees and closing her eyes, but she could not keep the cheeks of her behind from flinching as she thought of how that switch would feel when it whisked across them.
Stepping back, laying the switch over the ripest curves of Terri's magnificent bare ass, he drew it slowly back and then regaled her with a whistling cut which fairly took her breath away. She at once straightened, uttered a wild scream of pain and promptly rubbed her hands over the flaming mark left by that cruel kiss.
"I see that you find it effective," he said dryly. "You may remain bent over like that to teach you humility and the fact that even you, however far you have progressed in your training here, are not immune to punishment."
Then, placing himself at the left of the terrified silver-blonde who was not silver-blonde at all, he began to switch her slowly and expertly. Concentrating first on the top of her behind, he moved after ten cuts to the insides of each thigh and placed bright stripes circling those shaking, milky columns from just under the base of her bottom to the hollow of her knees. Corinne's body lunged and twisted like one possessed by demons, her head tilting back, her mouth gaping in wild, sobbing cries for mercy.
Then he resumed with ten cuts from the middle of her bottom to the base, and then stopped to go round and face her. "Do you feel so haughty and arrogant now, Corinne?"
"Ohh-n-no, s-s-sir, for G-G-God's sake stop, I'll do anything you want, anything." she hysterically sobbed, desperately trying to clench her thighs as she saw him lower the leather switch to the floor, just between her lasciviously straddled naked legs.
"What a different song you sing from the one you offered me earlier," he ironically retorted. "However, I am not yet convinced of your sincerity, Corinne, so I think I shall continue your switching till you find out of your own girlish inspiration the words-and, I may add, deeds-that will leave me no doubts on the matter."
He glanced to his left at Terri, who stood sideways to him, her pantybriefs still dragged down to her knees, bent well over and grasping her knees, the one darkening welt left by the "test" cut standing out against the creamy satin of her superb asscheeks, and he remarked, "Stay just as you are, Terri, but keep your eyes well open and try to learn from what you see."
With this, he suddenly and without any warning whatsoever leaped the tapering leather switch right up between Corinne's straddled milky thighs, the top biting home into her tender gaping cunt. A frenzied yell tore from the naked sufferer, who lunged wildly back and forth, trying with all her strength to close her thighs and protect the most vulnerable part of all her unprotected being.
"I hope, Corinne," he addressed the weeping naked young woman in his most sarcastic tone, "you are beginning to want to retract your earlier declarations about complaining to the police and your aunt about my disciplinary methods?"
"Ohh-oh-ahh-ouu-y-yes, s-sir-oh-for dear G-God's sake, do let me go now, oh pl-please-I-I can't stand any more p-pain, I jjirst c-can't!" she groaned, tears running down her contorted, flushed cheeks.
He moved back a step, his eyes feasting on the panting globes of her superb uptilting breasts, and then without any warning, swept the leather switch up right between her widely stretched bare legs, again attacking the soft gape of her cunthole.
"Ouuuuahrrrreeeeeyahhhrrrr! Ohhh, not there, for God's dear sake, s-sir, ohh not there! It's horrible, I can't bear it, oh I just c-can't, oh for G-God's sake, mercy!"
Her eyes, huge, glassy with fresh tears, tried to fix on his sardonic, lean face, beseeching him for reprieve, and the tumultuous heaving of her beautiful ripe firm tits attested to the virtual end of all resistance. But Phillip Sanderson, as Terri was rapidly discovering, was not easily swayed by a girl's tears and pleas till he had determined that she was abjectly humbled to do his bidding.
"It appears that you have failed to answer my question, Corinne. That was, if you recall, about your wishing to retract your charges against me."
"Oh I do, I do, Mr. S-Sanderson, on now won't you let me go? I promise I won't say anything if you'll stop wh-whipping me so horribly!" she wailed.
"That is a little better, but we are not yet come to the total obedience I expect from you, my girl," he chuckled. And a third time the leather switch swept up into her cunt.
"AGRRRRROHHHOUUUAHWWWW WWAWWWWWRRRRR! MERRRRRRCY........I'LL DO ANYTHING, OH, YES, YES, ANYTHING IN THE WORLD IF YOU'LL ONLY STOP!! her voice rang out, raucous, shuddering, as her body flung violently to and fro, her panting breasts jiggling like newly firmed mounds of jelly, the muscles of her milky thighs savagely straining and writing under the satiny, sweating skin under the fiendish burning agony of those three diabolical cuts.
"Now we are approaching the degree of submission I require her, Corinne," his voice was hoarse and menacing as he stepped closer to the weeping, writhing naked captive. "And since you are all of twenty, an age at which a young lady ought to know her own mind, I require from you a proof of this newly acquired obedience you have just so strongly expressed to me that you are willing to demonstrate." And as he ended the sentence, he flicked up his wrist: for the fourth time, the leather switch sent its tapering, pointed tip right into the chafed, gaping pink cleft of Corinee's exacerbated maiden cunthole.
"OUUUUUAHRRRR! OHHHHH GOD OH GOD, DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO ME IF YOU'LL ONLY STOP WHIPPING MEEEEE!!!" her clamorous, prolonged scream rang out as her writhing body jerked back and forth, then from side to side, her contorted face turning in every direction.
"Am I to believe that last avowal of yours, Corinne? I'd do anything?" he continued the satanic inquisition of the tortured naked victim.
"Y-yes-yes-oh pl-please-m-mercy-no-mmore, oh please, oh G-God, I-I'll be g-good-don't-don't wh-whip me, I'll be so good!" she whimpered.
"Then suppose," he drily continued, lifting the switch up to rub against her shuddering, burning cunthole while she fairly mewled in agony and wriggled all she could to escape its salacious, cruel caress, "I were to tell you that I should like to make what you so naively call a criminal assault upon your naked body. What would you say to that, now?" At the same moment, lowering the leather switch, he slashed it straight upwards.
"EEEYAHRRRROUUO-HHHHAWWWRRRRR!!! DO IT, DO IT, OHH GOD, ANYTHING, ANYTHING IF YOU'LL ONLY STOP! DO IT TO ME, I WANT YOU TO, MR. SANDERSON, DO IT AND LET ME OFF!" she shrieked, yanking madly at her bound wrists, arching her belly forward, then lunging back with all her might as her boobs jiggled lasciviously in the throes of her unspeakable suffering.
"Terri, you are witness to her invitation, I trust?" he called to the bent-over dark-brown-haired young beauty.
"Y-yes, s-sir," she quavered.
"Very well, Corinne, I would really prefer to keep switching you, as your fine big breasts and your tender belly and a good deal more of your exciting twitching body have not yet tasted the efficacy of my instrument. But I should be most ungallant if I were to decline so vociferous an invitation as you have just made!"
So saying, he yanked down his zipper to let his swollen penis emerge, and, flinging down the leather switch, gripped her panting naked breasts as he pressed himself up against her writhing, shuddering, sweating body.
Corrinne whimpered, closed her eyes and averted her tearstained face to one side, but she did not protest or resist as she felt his rigid organ press against the widely distended, angrily swollen lips of her virgin cunthole and begin to enter her tight sheath. Only when the glans of his rampant organ banged up against her hymeneal seal did she utter a strangled cry of "OOhh, Mr. S-Sanderson, it-it-h-hurts-" to which he at once mockingly and hoarsely retorted, "More than the switch?"
Now, roaming his hands behind her to grip the welted, inflamed cheeks of her well switched ass, Phillip Sanderson ground his teeth and lunged violently against the resisting barrier of her maidenhead. A piercing yell told him that he had achieved his coveted goal, as did the feeling of his prick's forging onward unchecked into the wonderfully tight humid chasm.
Then, luxuriatingly enjoying his conquest of the weeping young woman, he began to fuck her slowly, summoning all his self-control to hold back and so draw her to awareness of what it was to be turned from arrogant, undisciplined virgin to yielding woman. Soon, under his slowly digging probings back and forth, Corinne began to groan and sob, then to squirm agitatedly, her head tilting back, her tear-blurred eyes rolling to the whites, as nervous spasms shook her voluptuous naked body.
Exactly at that moment, sensing that she was approaching climax, he ejaculated explosively into her depths, and drew out at once, leaving her writhing and groaning, her breasts in wild upheaval, the prey of lascivious though unwanted emotions which he did not intend to satisfy, as part of her punishment.
Then languidly taking out a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks, he wiped his bloodied organ clean, pressed his penis back into its hiding place and drew up the zipper, calmly ordering Terri to pull her panties back up and follow him to the second culprit whose aggravated naughtiness had earned her a severe and exemplary correction.
He led the stunned and impressed teen-aged beauty down the long corridor to yet another chamber, whose door he opened, gesturing to her to enter ahead of mm.
It was narrow, without window, and only a 150-watt naked light bulb dangling from the end of the ceiling cord cast a metallic brightness on the scene. There was only a single punishment apparatus in this cell, a leather-padded whipping stool, over which, her opulent bare bottom posed towards the door, was draped an auburn-haired young woman, blindfolded, her dress and expensive lace-trimmed silk slip rolled neatly up to her shoulders and pinned there with safetypins, her panties lowered to her lower calves, wearing only black satin-elastic garterbelt and sheer off-black nylons to mold her mouthwateringly rounded full calves and sensually ripe, long thighs.
"This is Mavis," he remarked to Terri. "She's twenty-three, but not the oldest pupil I have had. On occasion, at the wish of some dear friends of mine, I permit the enrollment of even mature women who are in need of rehabilitation to eliminate their worst faults. Mavis is married, but extraordinarily selfish, greedy and amoral. She has been married for a year to the friend of one of my most important business associates, and she has already seen fit to make his name a laughing stock by taking lovers almost at random, just to spite him, while denying him what he bargained for."
"Ohh! This is outrageous, and it's a damned lie!" the young woman stormed in a richly vibrant contralto voice as she struggled over the stool. Her ankles were bound with buckling straps attached to the legs of the stool, and her wrists were similarly bound on the other side. Her flesh was tawny, wonderfully sleek and glossy, and the plump, ripely rounded cheeks of her tautly proffered behind were deeply and widely creased, allowing both Terri and Phillip Sanderson to view the ripe pink fig pf her cunthole, framed by a profusion of silky dark-auburn curls.
"I am sorry to contradict you, Mavis," he retorted, "but my friend took it upon himself to help your husband discover your real nature by having you shadowed by a very capable private detective. I might, for instance, tell you about the Hotel Edwards, room 1605, and the expensively groomed gentleman from Utica whom you picked up in a bar nearby-"
"You bastard-ohh, you let me out of here! I'll sue Henry and you for kidnapping me," she stormed.
"Hardly. Henry, your much too trusting husband, now has the full proof of our many little capricious affairs, and, I may add, my recommendations on how to continue the training you are going to get while you remain with us, Mavis. Now, let us proceed to your first punishment for all this disgraceful conduct." So saying, he walked to the far wall and-took down from a row of hooks set into it a leather paddle. Posing himself at Mavis' left, he pressed the oval-shaped implement over the ripest curves of her shuddering tawnysheened bottom, then drew back his arm and delivered a furious swat across both flinching cheeks, making her lunge forward with a wild yell of pain.
Then, disregarding at first her frantic, shrill threats and, not too much later, her hysterical pleas for mercy, Phillip Sanderson proceeded to apply fifty furious spanks which left her weaving, bounding, jerking bare bottom a dark, angry red.
Laying the paddle over the tops of her wriggling thighs, he remarked, "In an hour, one of my instructresses will return. If she finds the paddle on the floor, and not where I have just placed it, Mavis, she has my order to apply another twenty-five good hard spanks on your big naked seat and an additional twenty on your thighs."
Then, turning to Terri, he gestured for her to follow him, leaving the auburn-haired young woman to moan and sob and to hold herself frantically as motionless as the burning, swollen torment of her well thrashed bare bottom permitted.
Without a word, he retraced his footsteps and stopped at last before still another cell door, which he opened. Terri knew better than to say a word, and hastily entered ahead of him. She gulped when she saw a low bed against the wall to the left, its covers drawn and the white sheets invitingly ready, while in the center of this punishment cell, there was a wooden sawhorse, with a sharp ridge but also an oval shaped bolster along the top; from its four legs, buckling straps could be attached to the culprit's wrists and ankles.
Turning to the blushing, wide-eyed, dark-brown-haired teenager, he said with a mocking smile, "And now, Terri, it's time for your next lesson. See if you can guess what I require of you, for that will determine how severe your punishment will be."
Terri gasped, and then, averting her eyes from his virile, smiling face, began to undress. He said not a word, but let her improvise of her own accord, though his eyes sparkled when he saw that she had removed everything except her opera-length black hose with dainty rosette garters high on her lovely rounded thighs and her stiletto-heeled red leather pumps. Scarlet to the earlobes, her head bowed, Terri slowly walked over to the whipping horse and gingerly got astride it, only then glancing nervously back at him for approval.
"Bravo, my dear!" he complimented her as he came forward. "I think you have made remarkable progress. Now, if you will wriggle a bit forward so that your tummy rests on the bolster, it will have the effect of raising up not only your lovely bottom for the whipping but also that delicious pink slit of yours which is going to have its own particular attention as well after you have been soundly flogged."
Terri blushingly obeyed, gasping as she felt herself salaciously upreared, and she could feel that her soft twitching cunt yawned between her hugely straddled thighs and was lofted off the sharp ridge. Swiftly, he strapped her wrists and ankles, and then walked slowly over to the wall from which hung a panoply of whipping implements. Her eyes, very wide and humid, followed him anxiously, and she uttered a sigh of almost relief when she saw him take down a longhand led bath brush with sharp nylon bristles instead of a paddle or a cane or a whip.
She looked anxiously round behind her as he took his place at her left, and gloatingly laid the flat smooth surface of the brush against the upper right summit of her bare, quivering behind. Then, in a tremulous, low, unsteady voice, she stammered, "Please, I-I'll be very good ... please don't s-spank me too hard, Mr. Sanderson, I-I want to be good ... very good ... and do whatever you want me to from now on."
His eyes glittered appreciatively. "I'm happy to hear that spontaneous little speech, Terri. It shows there's great hope for you. And now, try to be brave till I reward you."
For Terri Blanton, life had come round full circle. Even as she sobbed and groaned, wriggling under the slowly spaced dosage of forty bath brush spanks he inflicted all over her writhing, bounding, reddening bottom, she knew that she didn't want to leave the school. For, a few moments later, she was groaning with pleasure as, crouching over her, Phillip Sanderson, his hands squeezing her burning bottomcheeks, taught her the exquisite pleasures that follow pain when a girl's naughty spirit has been chastened and made aware of the delights she and her executioner can share.
