Discipline, as many of the nation's leading psychologists and social observers will tell you, is sadly lacking among our population today.
Not only among the young, who know no bounds to their antisocial behavior, but also the adults of today have been brought up lawlessly, without discipline.
It is a widely debated issue in our, and other countries' educational systems, however, whether or not corporal punishment, and other kinds of punishments should be administered in the school. Many say that punishment in the school should be allowed.
Because such discipline is sadly lacking in the homes.
Others say that corporal punishment should not be allowed because it perverts the minds of children, many of whom are at the age of sexual development.
Other forms of punishment also exist, which are used in the name of discipline.
There is psychological punishment, often favored in this age of the psychiatrist.
Then, there is the use of spanking, caning, whipping and beating.
How have these various methods of discipline effected the people on whom they were used. And, how do those people feel today about the methods of discipline employed on them? Would they use these same methods on their own children?
Or on other people's children? In this volume, we examine some of the more violent forms of discipline that people have been subjected to.
And we study those episodes of violent discipline in relation to how it affected the sex lives of the people involved, for, as we all know, sex and violence are closely intertwined.
DISCIPLINING A ROYAL CUNT
Monica gasped as she felt the pain sear through her body.
Whenever she moved the slightest little bit, her body was pierced with pain.
Where were her mother, her poppa now? Where were her servants?
She tried to hold as still as possible, so that the rings, pierced into the nipples of her big soft breasts, would not jerk. That was the worst thing.
For when she moved the upper part of her naked, voluptuous torso, even the slightest bit, it pulled on the tit leashes, that ran through the rings in her nipples.
The tit leashes were connected to the rings pierced through the lips of her vagina. When her tits moved, they pulled open the sides of her cunt lips.
Her hands were tied behind her and a huge ball gag was in her mouth.
How long would she be left this way? And when was her husband coming back?
She'd been warned. Oh yes, her mother had warned her.
Her father too. Daddy had said, "If you marry a playboy, Monica, you can expect nothing but degradation and humiliation." But she hadn't listened to Daddy!
Oh, how she regretted flaunting her parents' advice now.
But she'd always been a rebellious girl, always done what she wanted.
But then again, she'd been brought up to be arrogant and self-centered.
After all, wasn't she a golden princess? One of the few real princesses left in this world? Her home, her kingdom, was a small country on the Mediterranean.
That was where her parents lived and ruled.
Her mother was an American actress.
Or had been, until she'd met the charming king of Bonaco, the small Mediterranean kingdom which was mostly a casino and resort town, home of gamblers and millionaires.
Little Monica had been born, literally, with a golden spoon in her mouth.
And she was always a beautiful girl, with people waiting on her hand and foot.
She had long soft golden hair, and big green eyes and a voluptuous body.
She was only twenty-one when she decided to marry Jean-Luc Gaston, the handsome, extraordinarily wealthy jetset playboy. Every woman in Bonaco was in love with him.
All the rich unmarried girls in the jetset world had wanted him.
But Monica had nabbed him. He was much older than her of course.
And that had been part of the scandal. But at the time, it had meant nothing to Monica that he was thirty-three and she was twenty-one.
What difference does age make when you're in love, she had thought.
Her mother had told her that an older man would be too experienced in lovemaking for her. But that had been exactly the attraction for Monica.
She wanted a man who was a good lover, experienced in bed.
It had always been only the best for Monica. And she wanted the best fuck too.
The first time Jean-Luc had taken her to bed had been aboard Sonya's yacht.
Sonya was a mutual friend. Jean-Luc and Monica had sneaked off to her yacht for a midnight rendezvous. He'd eaten her out for hours and hours.
And then when he put his cock in her, the biggest cock the little princess had ever seen in her life-eleven inches long-and fucked her eyes out, she knew he was the man for her. She loved his prick just like she loved his arrogance.
In fact, maybe it was his arrogance that had attracted her to him in the first place.
She hated wimpy, meek, frightened, rabbit-like men.
Her parents were always introducing her to bankers, accountants mostly.
Men who were intimidated by her wealth and by her beauty.
Her parents had wanted her to marry one of these stable wimps.
But Jean-Luc was totally arrogant through and through.
Just like Monica, 'n fact he was the only man she'd ever met u was as arrogant as she herself was. That was why it had been love at first sight.
Birds of a feather, she thought now as her muscles ached with the strain of maintaining one position without moving. How long had he left her like this?
It seemed that he had walked out on her hours ago. When would he return?
Big hot tears rolled out of her beautiful green eyes.
The big hot wet teardrops dripped onto her boobs and rolled to the tips of her nipples where they poised and hung for a moment before falling off. Suddenly she had to sneeze. The convulsion of the sneeze racked her body.
"Aiiiiiii!! " she screamed through her big ball gag.
The sudden movement had made her big soft boobs rear up in the air.
And the golden tit leashes had pulled hard on her cunt lips, ripping them wide open. And the suddenness of the move had also activated the big brass dildo, pointing upwards under her body, on the rack she was tied to.
The big brass dildo went up into her cunt, as her cunt lips were pulled open.
There was a small vibrator lodged on the underside of the dildo.
And as the dildo passed into her royal box, the vibrator went on, stimulating her royal clit.
Beads of sweat ran down the princess' forehead.
As the dildo, rising and falling, with the vibrator going, stimulated her cunt, making it all hot and wet and causing her to move and writhe.
Her movements continued to cause her pain, making her pull and jerk the tit leashes, and causing the dildo to continue its electronic upwards and downwards motion.
She was writhing thus, moaning, grimacing in pain, and writhing in ecstasy, when the door to the chamber opened and her arrogant husband, Jean-Luc walked in.
He was smoking a cigarette which hung out of the corner of his mouth.
His lips were thin and sensual. His hair, brown, was sleekly cut and combed back with oil, but one thick curly lock hung down over his forehead.
He was wearing a pin-striped suit and black, well-polished shoes.
He was broad-shouldered, not tall, but not short either.
But his hands were white and elegant and clean and the nails were polished with clear lacquer. He looked like a very well-dressed gangster.
He stood in front of his dear little wife, staring at her and grinning as he watched her writhing in pain and pleasure, as his little device pierced and penetrated her, alternately turning her on and punishing her as he wished.
Monica couldn't stop the cycle of coming on the tip of the large dildo, and writhing, causing herself excruciating pain. Tears of humiliation formed in her eyes.
As she performed this hideous rite before her husband's eyes.
Finally, out of pity or simply because he was bored, he reached over and turned off the device that activated the machine she was tied to.
He stepped back again and smiled as he watched his wife slump, with exhaustion and relief, as the dildo came to a halt in her pussy and the vibrator went off.
Once again she was concentrating on not moving, and not pulling on the tit leashes.
"Well, my dear, how are you doing? Have you learned your lesson yet?"
Monica looked at him with eyes that begged for pity.
Of course, she couldn't answer him, because of the huge ball gag in her mouth.
"Oh yes, how terribly silly of me, I forgot you can't talk."
And with that, he leaned forward and took off her gag.
But the moment she felt the freedom of her mouth again, Monica spit at him.
She spit at her handsome, worldly husband, and her gob of royal spit fell squarely on his nose. He took out a white silk handkerchief and wiped the spit off.
Then he calmly stepped forward and slapped her on the face.
He slapped her face hard, several times, on both cheeks.
Knocking her head back and forth from side to side.
When he was through there were stinging tears in her eyes.
Then he stepped back, quite calmly, as if he had done no more than looked over a menu at an expensive club and decided what he wanted to order.
"I had thought you would have learned better manners than that by now, my dear. But I see disciplining you is going to be harder than I expected."
Monica stared at him with hatred in her eyes and she said to him:
"I hate you, Jean-Luc! I hate you! I hate you!"
He laughed and stared at the large brass dildo halfway into her pussy.
It fascinated him to see how much she could take up into her.
It was the largest brass dildo he had, and it measured a good seven inches in width.
And yet she could get that thing up inside her. Well, he reasoned with himself, they were able to open up wide enough to allow babies to pass out the other way.
So why not extremely wide dildos. He smiled at her and said:
"You're wrong. You're lying. You don't hate me, you love me. You love what I'm doing to you. You know I'm the only man in the world who can beat you at your game. And you love me for it. Admit it, Monica," he said to her gently.
He went up to her again and put his hands under her glorious boobs.
They were so big and soft, real handfuls, yet they didn't sag or hang.
She was only twenty-one, after all, and her boobs were firm.
The nipples pointed up slightly, and they were extremely white compared to the rest of her body which, except for a panty-shaped outline, was very tanned.
Her white bikini marks were especially erotic to him.
But this time, as he was hefting and feeling her big soft white boob?, she leaned her head forward and bit at the closest part of his anatomy.
Which turned out to be his nose. He jumped back in pain.
"Cunt! How dare you! You will be punished for this!" he roared.
Still holding his nose in pain, he took out a little mirror and looked at his wounded appendage. Clearly embedded in the flesh were the little marks of her pearly white teeth. He folded the compact up and put it away and stared at her.
"Perhaps you have not yet clearly understood, Monica, who wears the pants in our blissful marriage. But I assure you of one thing, you will understand.
"Oh yes, dear wife, before I am through with you, you will understand."
And with that, he went around behind her again. He smashed the ball gag back in her mouth and tied the leather straps behind her head even tighter than before.
Then he got to work hooking up the one attachment that he had not yet used on her. The anal dildo. He positioned it so that it was aiming in the right direction.
This brass dildo was not as large as the vaginal dildo.
But it was extremely long, as he had checked out her anus.
And found it to be extremely long. Now he spread her ass cheeks open.
Poor Monica started to whimper and writhe, forcing her cunt lips open.
First Jean-Luc bent down and put his face in between her buttocks.
He ate out her ass-hole, which he knew from experience that she loved.
Royal princess indeed, she had an ass-hole complex that was as big as her ass-hole was tight. She absolutely loved getting fucked in the ass.
And he tongued her ass-hole out well, sticking his tongue deep inside.
"Ooooooh, ooooohhhh, ooooooohhhh!" the unfortunate princess moaned.
Because the pleasure was unbearable, she had to writhe!
His wet tongue in her ass-hole was causing her pleasure.
But her writhing movements were causing her excruciating pain.
Her nipples newly pierced that morning were pulling on her cunt lips, also newly pierced, and fresh blood started to bubble from the four pierced holes.
And still she could not help writhing and moaning on his tongue up her pert ass.
Now he took his face away with a chuckle and and started up the machine.
He stepped away, pushing his forelock out of his eyes.
Activated, the two dildoes started going up and down in her two holes.
The big brass dildo in her cunt started penetrating her and retreating, and penetrating her some more. And the dildo in her ass, like a rocket, pushed open her buttocks and penetrated into her tight, pink, wet anus, making it open wide.
' 'Oooooohhhhh! OHHHHHHHH! Aiiiiiii! Yeeeeooooowww!! " the princess groaned.
She was getting all the feelings she loved the most.
At the same time that she was made to suffer the most abominable pain.
The punishment was devilish, ingenious, the work of a twisted mind.
He stepped back and laughed to watch his princess writhing in pain.
He went over to a beautiful, Louis the Fourteenth cabinet and opened a drawer.
He took out his camera-the latest American special.
It was a movie camera that recorded sound as well as images.
And he started shooting pictures of his princess wife.
He shot her from the front and from behind, and from below.
He got some great below-the-belt shots of the juice dripping out of her pussy and her anus, as the dildoes penetrated her. And he caught her groans.
The princess Monica closed her eyes when she saw he was filming her.
She tried to think of nothing but her Daddy. If only she could get back to him.
Once he had told her that she was the brightest, smartest, prettiest little girl in the whole world. He was the only one who had ever really loved her.
Her mother appeared to love her in the all the photographs.
But Monica knew that, secretly, her mother was jealous of her.
Monica, as she grew older, got all the attention from the press.
And her beauty was said to be greater than her mother's beauty.
Her mother actually hated and resented Monica, her only child.
But her Daddy had loved her. Her Daddy alone cherished her.
The one thought that kept her going, through all her pain and suffering and orgasm was the thought of getting away from this monster who was her husband.
And getting back to her Daddy. He would arrange for an annulment.
A divorce. He would sue this creep for everything he was worth.
He would find her another husband. Daddy would make everything right.
"Heh-heh, Monica, lovely, lovely. These will make excellent movies. I can't wait to show them to my friends," the monstrous playboy laughed.
He shot a few more feet of his princess wife writhing on the dildoes.
The he snapped the camera off and put it away for the time being.
"I'm having a dinner party tonight, dear, just a few friends, the Count and Countess Novsky and our dear friend Jason, and I hope you won't mind if I entertain with a few home movies." He gestured towards the roll of film he had put in his pocket.
More hot tears fell from Monica's pained eyes. But she was silent.
There was nothing she could do. Nothing at all, until he released her.
But when would he release her? That was the question.
He seemed to read her mind when he answered with a sly smile:
"Maybe tonight, if you're a good girl, and will promise to apologize for spitting in my face and biting my nose, maybe I'll let you get down off the machine. But only if you promise to apologize. Do you promise me? Nod your head."
With humiliation in her eyes, Monica went against her pride.
Slowly, humbly she nodded her head. Behind her back she crossed two fingers.
"That's better, my girl. That's what I thought. Now, what do you say?"
He untied her ball gag, and stepped back to hear what she had to say.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for what I did," was all she said.
Secretly, in her mind she added, "I wish I'd kicked you in the balls instead."
"Monica," he said sourly, "you didn't say that as if you meant it. Say it with more feeling, and say, dear husband." He was smiling again.
He was enjoying humiliating her like this, she could see.
Once again she swallowed her pride. Keeping her fingers tightly crossed behind her back, she said, "I'm sorry for what I did, dear husband."
Fortunately for her, her voice was husky and sounded truly penitent.
But actually, it was just the humiliation that made her speak low.
For she didn't believe or feel a word she was saying.
She wasn't sorry at all that she had spit at and bit him.
"That's much better, my dear, much better.
Perhaps you are learning faster than I believed. Now say that you will never do anything like that again."
She gulped and inwardly hated him all the more for dragging this out.
"I will never do anything like that again, dear husband," she said.
The pretty girl looked the picture of regret as her long blonde curls fell down over the gold rings pierced through the nipples of her big soft boobs.
And the gold tit leashes, connecting her nipples to the lips of her cunt, glinted in the deepening twilight of the room. She stared up at him through her long dark eyelashes, and hoped she was creating a convincing picture.
"Excellent, my darling, excellent. You shall indeed be released."
With that, he turned on his heel and made as if to walk out of the room.
"Jean-Luc!" Monica called out in pain and humiliation.
He turned on his well-polished heel and looked at her expectantly.
"Well, my dear, what is it?" he asked her with a patient smile.
"You, you said you would release me," the humbled princess replied with downcast eyes. He was really making her grovel for it, really making her beg.
He came up to her and tickled her chin with his well-groomed finger.
"Ohhh, pussycat," he crooned. "You misunderstood me, I said I would release you later tonight. When the Count and Countess get here, and Jason. I wouldn't want them to miss that scene. Now, would you?" he laughed with pleasure.
As he saw the look of realization and humiliation cross her face.
"Oh!" she gasped out, "oh you monster! You wouldn't, would you?"
Would he really make her suffer the humiliation of having other people witness the state he had reduced her to? Would he really subject her to public ridicule.
He laughed. "Just as I thought. You're not really sorry at all, are you? What loving wife would call her dearest husband a monster? Perhaps I won't be able to release you tonight after all, my sweet. I'm not sure you're ready."
And with that he flipped on the switch that activated the perverted machine she was attached to. He didn't bother to put on her gag again, however.
There was no one who would come to her rescue in this sound-proofed room in the villa.
Let her scream all she wanted. He watched her begin to writhe in pain and ecstasy again as orgasm after orgasm mixed with racking pain.
"See you later, dearest," he whispered in her ear.
Then he sauntered out of the room, whistling a popular tune, called "Monica" that was number one on the charts that year. It had been written for her, his wife.
And Monica was left to writhe and come on the two dildoes penetrating her cunt and ass simultaneously, while blood dripped from her newly pierced nipples and cunt lips. Her husband was a cruel bastard, but one day she would have her revenge!
PART TWO
"I trust you had a pleasant voyage?" Jean-Luc said.
He took three glasses of sparkling champagne from the silver tray held by the servant.
Each of his three guests, the Count and Countess Novsky, and the handsome young polo player, Jason LeCompte, each took a glass. They toasted to Jean-Luc's health, and asked where his lovely young wife was. Jean-Luc smiled.
"She asked me to beg your pardons. She is, er, not feeling well, and is, er, resting right now. I will take you to see her later."
Countess Novsky smiled. She was a beautiful, if somewhat stern-looking woman.
One of Jean-Luc's oldest friends, she knew his taste in sexual practices.
"Not feeling well," was one of Jean-Luc's oldest euphemisms for "she's tied up right now and can't get loose." So the beautiful woman smiled.
"I can't wait to see her poor dear, she is such a pretty young thing. But really Jean-Luc, weren't you robbing the cradle when you married her?"
The Countess Novsky had once hoped to marry the handsome young playboy.-
But that was years ago, when he was only a young penniless young man and she was the older woman. She patted her sleek black hair, pulled back into a tight bun.
She was very thin, as all the fashionable jet-set women are.
She was wearing a shiny, silk, black sheath dress and long dangling gold earrings.
Her husband, a somewhat stodgy man, a banker with huge accounts in Switzerland, stroked his mustache and said, "Yes, I've always wanted to meet young Monica. My wife tells me she's quite a girl. I'm very happy for you my boy."
The Count was somewhat naive about Jean-Luc and his own wife's sexual tastes.
The Count had only been married to Patricia (for that was his wife's first name) for a few months. And his wife had done her best to hide from her wealthy older banker husband, her weird sexual inclinations. Until the proper time.
When he could only divorce her with a huge settlement.
Jason smiled. He was an extremely handsome young man, also wealthy and petted.
He and Monica had grown up together, but he was also a longtime friend of Jean-Luc's.
He was eying, at this moment, the beautiful Countess and thinking how attractively striking she was. Oh, she wasn't beautiful the way Monica was beautiful.
Monica with her golden hair and sweet, innocent virginal look.
There was nothing coy about the Countess Patricia.
She was aristocratic-looking. She looked like a real man-eater.
And the handsome young polo player was tired of passive, spoiled young blonde women who expected to be waited on hand and foot.
He wanted a woman with some fire to her. He wondered how long Patricia had been married to the Count.
And if she was ready to start fooling around yet. She eyed him back now..
He was wearing a pair of tight light blue leather pants.
Which nicely outlined the shape of his large basket at his crotch.
Yes, the beautiful, arrogant Countess was thinking, yes, that one will do quite nicely. Meanwhile, they had all moved to the balcony with their drinks.
They looked out over the lovely blue Mediterranean Sea.
The water was turning red and purple, like blood, in the west where the sun was setting. And Patricia pointed this out, pointing with one ruby-beringed finger.
"Look how the sun is setting. The water is the color of blood."
Jason was standing close beside her and he was startled to feel her long elegant fingers suddenly slide up against his crotch and give a good squeeze to his balls.
His penis stiffened slightly in his tight, light blue leather pants.
He coughed. "Yes, you are right, Countess. But I should have said the water was the color of a good burgundy wine." He gulped as she squeezed his balls again.
He was hoping the Count wouldn't turn around and see his wife.
But the stodgy banker had his back to them and was conversing with Jean-Luc.
"I hear your wife has very extensive land holdings in South Africa. I'd like to talk to you about those, young man. You and I may be able to do some business together."
All through dinner, served on an elegant mahogany table with a pure white lace tablecloth on the balcony, with candlelight, the Count engaged Jean-Luc in boring conversation about finances. This suited his wife just fine.
All through the long elegant meal, she was feeling the young polo player's balls.
Under the long lace tablecloth, she opened up the fly of his tight pants and took his long, thick, heavy, erect cock out of the slit in his nylon briefs.
Jason had extreme difficulty eating and breathing and keeping up a semblance of listening to the conversation, as the beautiful woman played with his cock.
Time and time again she brought his trembling prick to the point of spasming.
And then, expertly, she slowed down the motions of her fingers on his dick, or stopped playing with his prick and balls all together.
So that, right on the point of his orgasm, the stimulation stopped.
By the end of the meal, she really had his cock and balls throbbing.
He was dying to have a moment alone with her, so that she could bring him all the way off. Under the tablecloth, he kept trying to reach for her thighs.
He figured she must want some stimulation and action too, in her pussy.
But she kept firmly pushing his fingers away, and finally he stopped trying.
He guessed she must be one of those women who prefer to serve a man.
However, nothing could have been farther from the truth, as the unfortunate young man was to find out. After dinner, Jean-Luc suggested to the Count that he come into his private study and look over a list of some of his stocks and bonds.
"You won't mind if I go, dear, will you? I know such things bore you to tears, but you know how stocks and bonds are my passion," he said.
He was addressing her from across the table. She pouted her red lips.
"You're not going to leave me all alone again, are you?"
Under the table cloth, her fingers were spreading around Jason's pre-come on top of the throbbing mushroom head of his erect cock. She sighed.
"All right, go off if you must. But don't stay away too long."
She turned to Jean-Luc, her host, who knew exactly what was going on.
"Don't you keep him away from me too long," she-lectured him. "You know I can't bear to be out of the sight of my husband for more than a few minutes at a time."
The minute Jean-Luc left with the Count, Patricia sighed with relief.
"How I despise that fat old slob," she said. "All he ever thinks about is money."
The candlelight was flickering as she ran her long tapered fingers up and down Jason's fat, thick cock. He was breathing heavily now and looking around.
"I wonder if we have privacy here," he said anxiously.
Patricia smiled. "Don't worry, Jean-Luc has taken care of that."
She knew that Jean-Luc would have instructed the servants to leave them alone, and not to come out on the balcony for a while, giving them total privacy.
"Now push back your chair, you gorgeous hunk, and let me see exactly what it is I've been fingering and handling all evening long," the rich bitch said hungrily.
Jason smiled as he pushed back his chair and she got a look at his rod.
It was standing straight up out of his pants, sitting on top of his big heavy balls.
She gasped. "My, you do carry a load around on you. Don't you worry about hurting that ... piece riding around like you do on a horse?" She squeezed his shaft.
He smiled and put out a hand to her. chin to bring her face to his.
"If you think I can ride a horse well, just wait until you see how I can ride you."
He tried to bring her lips to his to kiss her. She allowed this for a moment.
His soft lips touched her thin ones, and his tongue plunged into her mouth.
She allowed him this one sentimental kiss, and tongued him back with the tip of her tongue, before pulling away and saying to him, with a smile:
"Whatever led you to believe that I would want you to 'ride' me?"
He looked at her confused, and then looked down to her hand working over his cock.
She smiled. "Wait a minute. Watch," she said to him.
She got down on her knees on the floor, between his legs.
And she parted her thin lips wide and put his cock in her big mouth.
Then she was rimming him expertly, sucking his cock deep into her mouth.
He sighed with satisfaction, still somewhat confused however.
She didn't want him to 'ride' or screw her then. What did she want?
Perhaps she was one of those women who could only take pleasure from servicing a man.
If that was so, that was all right with him too. He put his hands on her head.
To push her face harder down on his prick for his pleasure.
She gently reached up and lifted his hands off her head.
And she raised her mouth up off the top of his dick.
"No, no darling," she said gently. And then, like a magician, making something appear out of his sleeves, she produced a pair of gold handcuffs.
And expertly cuffed his hands together. He was taken by surprise.
And by astonishment. "What the hell?" he began to expostulate.
She stood up now and he tried to move his feet. But he found he couldn't.
His feet too had been cuffed together! What the hell was she doing?
She cackled at his display of distress, and then, producing yet another toy out of the little bag she carried over her shoulder, she took out a cock ring.
It was not an ordinary cock ring, but a spiked one.
Jason stared at with terror, and sweat began to break out on his tanned forehead.
"Oh yes I will," she said gleefully, "now don't you move, or this may hurt!"
She slid the spiked cock ring down over the gleaming head of his penis.
He winced as the first tongs of pain shuddered through his body.
She slid the cock ring down over his throbbing shaft.
Until she had it lodged firmly at the base of his cock.
She produced another larger ring, also spiked, which she clipped on around his large, and heavy balls! A leash attached to both of the rings.
"Down on your back, darling," she told him with a smile.
She was lifting up the skirt of her black dress. He stared at her.
And with a panting heart, carefully got up off the chair and lay down on the terra cotta tiled floor of the marble balcony. He had to move carefully.
One false move, and the spikes of those cock rings would rip his genitals apart.
When he was lying on the floor, she spread her legs and stood right over him.
He was staring up between her legs. She was wearing black nylon stockings.
With black seams that went straight up the backs of her legs.
And she was standing tall in spiked high heels with metal tips.
She stood over him threateningly now, as she put one spiked heel to his open shirt and ripped his shirt open. Then she put the tip of her spiked heel on his left nipple.
Her legs were somewhat spread open now, and he could see the black tabs of her garters that held up her black stockings. He could also see a black crevice.
It was the crevice of her ass, and the hair of her black-furred pussy.
For she was wearing no panties underneath her dress! She held her dress up around her waist. She was holding in her hand the leash from his cock and balls.
She pulled on it, making his prick and balls jump.
She giggled girlishly. "See how the horsie trots!"
Jason was groaning and sweating with pain as the metal spikes of the cock rings dug into his erect prick and balls. This was a nightmare!
Now she was bending her knees and doing a deep knee bend.
It was bringing her wet, black pussy hole down to his face.
"Lift up your head, pig," she told him, grabbing him by the hair.
"Lift up your head and eat me out!" she commanded. She shoved his face into the crevice of her meat. He gasped at the thick odor of her cunt.
Running through his mind was the humiliating thought that she had led him by the nose, or by the cock, right into this situation. Leading him on to think that all she wanted to do was to service him. What a joke! What a laugh!
Now he was forced to eat out her cunt, while she laughed and giggled and pulled on his balls and cock with her gold leash, calling him names and ridiculing him. "So, you thought you were going to ride me, did you?" she asked.
She rode her meat and hips back and forth on his face and his nose.
And she pulled on the leash again and again, causing his genitals to jump.
"I'm going to ride you, you stupid little jerk. You dumb cunt. You wimp. I'm going to ride you, for as long as I feel like it. How do you like that, ass-hole?"
He could do nothing but whimper a muffled groan deep into her twat.
All he could hope to do was please her, before she pulled his cock and balls off.
He slid his tongue up and down her throbbing pussy hole.
Her cunt lips were trembling gently and her clittie was big and hot.
He put his lips around the big love button, embedded deep in her pussy flesh.
All of his girlfriends called him "Hot Lips." Because he knew what to do when he wrapped his lips around a clit. He sucked now, while stroking the underside of the big love pyramid with the tip of his tongue. He felt his mistress writhe.
"Mmmmmm, you sure do know how to ride, polo-player," she told him.
Her whole body stiffened as his stroking tongue started to bring her off.
"Ohhhh! OHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHHH!" she shrieked aloud as her orgasm mounted.
Wave after pulsating wave rode through her as her pussy yielded to his tongue.
Now he left off sucking her throbbing clittie and pushed his tongue deep inside.
He swirled his tongue inside her wet hole.
"Ooooooooh," she moaned deliciously as he changed his stroke.
He started to bring her off to a different rhythm, and again her orgasm mounted.
Then he had her coming like a bitch in heat again, rocking on his face.
With his tongue deep in her beaver meat. She had dropped his cock leash in her extremity of pleasure. And his cock and balls sprang up into the air.
"Ohhhhh! Oooooh! Ooooooooh!" she moaned in ecstasy.
Jason felt a surge of hope in his heart. Once again his 'hot lips' had come to his rescue. Maybe she would be grateful to him now and release his tortured penis and balls. But his surge of hope came too soon, for she had other ideas.
After she had come a few more times, and his tongue was entirely coated with the thick white cream of her cunt, she stroked his ears and looked down at him.
"My, you're very good at that, young man. But I bet eating all that pussy must have made you thirsty. You don't know how very fortunate you are, however. Because all that stimulation has made my bladder weak. I really do have to pee, you know."
She smiled down at him and his eyes turned pale with horror.
He had a sudden premonition of what she was going to force him to do.
"N-no, n-no," he tried to struggle. He tried to turn his head from side to side.
But she was too quick for him. She grabbed up his cock leash again.
And pulled on it hard. His mouth opened with a howl of pain.
She smiled. "That's better, dear, much better." And she pulled his face up close to her cunt, while spreading open her pussy with two fingers lovingly.
Then the golden water of her bush started to spurt out of her hot twat.
He was forced to drink it, forced to drink her pee-pee.
The golden urine filled his mouth and he gurgled and gagged on it.
But she kept pulling on his cock leash, causing him pain.
And he opened his mouth and managed to swallow the whole golden shower down.
Her salty piss almost made him vomit. But then she started rubbing her wet beaver against her mouth again. She made him eat her out until she came one more time.
By the time Jean-Luc and the Count came back out on the terrace to rejoin them, Patricia and Jason were once again sitting sedately at the long dining table, drinking brandy being served to them by one of the servants as if nothing had happened. But Jason, Jean-Luc noticed with a smile, was looking a little pale around the gills, so to speak. He wondered what delightful torment the beautiful Patricia had forced him to endure. He took her aside in a corner for a moment.
Burning with curiosity, he asked her, "Well? Did you like him?"
Patricia smiled and stroked her friend's cheek. She said to him:
"Darling, he was spectacular. You know my type. You always pick out the best for me."
Jean-Luc said, "Don't keep me in suspense any longer, which of your perverted pleasures did you take with him. I know you and your mind."
She smiled. "Jealous, aren't you?" But then she answered, "I gave him a wonderful golden shower, but the poor boy is suffering from pain in the groin area."
Jean-Luc laughed and gave her a little kiss and then they rejoined the others.
They talked and drank brandy, and under the table cloth, Patricia was playing her little games again. She had out his erect, massive, bleeding prick and balls.
And she was jerking him off, while making sure that her husband engaged him in a long, intense conversation about polo. So he had to talk while she played with his tortured dick. She wanted to bring him off while he was talking.
Several times while the Count was talking, he interrupted himself to ask:
"My dear boy, are you all right? You look quite ill!"
To which the young polo player replied, with a gasp:
"No, no, nothing's the matter. I'm quite well!" with a contorted face.
The truth of the matter was, he felt that if he didn't come soon he would die.
She had been toying and playing with his dick for hours now.
Just bringing him to the point of coming again and again.
And then backing off. He had to come, come or go crazy, come or explode.
She squeezed his balls and worked her long tapered fingers up and down the shaft of his bulging rod. Now her hands were jerking him off faster and faster.
He started panting, while he kept his eyes fixed on the Count.
"Uh!" he panted, trying to respond to a question.
"Yes, I think the Baron's string of ponies are the finest! UH!" he grunted.
He could feel the juice in his balls really broiling now.
She squeezed his balls again and jerked his cock harder, rubbing it up and down right in the most sensitive spot, with two fingers under the head of his dick, "Uh! I think that the Bonaco Polo Club should, uh! go to the States to, uh! play against the ... Uh, uhh! Oh, don't stop, please. UUUGHGHGHGHHHHHH!" he groaned aloud with abandon.
For now she was pumping his hot cum fluid up out of his cock and into the soft satiny palm of her hand. He could contain himself no longer.
He gripped the sides of the elegant table and came! Under the tablecloth!
Into her hand! He came all over her hand and still she pumped his cock!
Another huge wad of-cum hurtled up out of his balls and through his erect stiff penis. It shot out like a loaded gun, and he groaned and closed his eyes.
"I think the boy is ill!" said the Count getting up in alarm.
"Please, don't disturb yourself," Jean-Luc assured him. "It is nothing. The boy is subject to these fits." But all the while, he was thinking of his wife.
Soon, it would be time to go in to her. To see how she was doing.
He relished the thought of her humiliation and embarrassment.
When he displayed the young bound bride to his guests.
Jason fell over onto his arms on the table, panting with relief.
And Patricia sat beside him, very upright, with a bemused expression on her face.
She was wiping her cum-laden hands off on Jean-Luc's pants.
"Shall we all go inside and say hello to Monica?" Jean-Luc suggested.
"Oh yes, let's go, I'm dying to see her," said Patricia, standing up. stain at the fly, and the Count averted his eyes, thinking the young man had had an accident. He was thinking to himself that there was something strange about that young man.
PART THREE
Soon after Jean-Luc had left his beautiful young bride writhing in torture on the dildo rack, the door to the chamber was opened and a young slip of girl came in.
Her name was Lucy, and she had lived, side-by-side, with her royal mistress, the princess Monica, ever since the two of them had been born.
The daughter of the Queen's favorite companion, Lucy was a beautiful girl.
Her beauty, however, was quite different from that of the lovely blonde Monica.
Lucy was dark-haired, and had big brown eyes. Her lips were ruby-red.
And she was smaller, that is shorter than her mistress.
Though her tits were quite large, really oversized for her size.
"Oh Mistress! Monica! What has he done to you! Oh! Oh!"
The distraught Lucy cried when she saw how cruelly the princess had been treated.
"Lucy! How did you get in here! Please! Help me! Save me!"
The agonized Princess begged as still the two dildoes went up and down, in and out of her ass and cunt, and she writhed and pulled on her tit leashes.
"Just one moment, darling princess, let me see how this fucking thing works," the pretty young maid replied. She examined the machine and found the switch.
She turned the machine off and watched as the Princess slumped with relief.
"Now, let me just get you down from there! Oh, that evil man."
Lucy panted and sweated as she untied Monica's ropes and helped her down.
Monica crumpled to the floor with exhaustion and relief.
The gold chains, connecting her nipple rings to the rings pierced in her cunt lips, were still on her, though. She lay there panting with joy.
"How did you ever get in here, Lucy? You know Jean-Luc has forbidden us to see each other! Ohhh, how did I ever think that he was the most wonderful man in the world?"
Once again she began-crying at the mess she had made of her life.
"Do not cry, Princess, all your pain is over. I bribed one of the guards to let me in. All I had to do was blow him. Nothing could have been easier."
She caressed her princess' body while the princess lay panting on the floor.
She went over the voluptuous tanned curves of her mistress' body.
It had been long, so long-several months in fact-ever since the disastrous weddingsince Lucy had been allowed to be alone with her beloved friend.
She let her hands glide again and again over the delicious curve of her princess' body that led from the top of her jutting hip to the valley of her waist.
The Princess was lying on her side. Then the adoring Lucy stroked the Princess' breasts, cupping the delicious handfuls of tit flesh and bouncing them gently.
"What did he do to you, that awful man?" she asked, pulling on the tit leashes curiously. She did not know what she was doing. For the Princess screamed with pain.
"OOWWW! Lucy! Stop! See what he did to me?" She pointed to her pussy.
"Ohh, you poor darling baby!" Lucy said with pity.
She saw how the princess' cunt lips had been pierced with rings.
And how pressure on the tit leashes made the Princess' pussy open wide.
With infinite pity for the bruised and beaten body of her Princess, the pretty dark-haired girl bent down her ruby-red lips to the Princess' cunt.
"Let me lick away your pain," she begged the royal beauty.
Monica turned over slightly and parted her thighs to let her willing servant do her work. It had been so long since she had felt the loving tongue of Lucy.
Lucy bent her face over the Princess' soft blonde pussy hair.
With her fingers she spread the Princess' pussy meat open and examined the damage that had been done to the soft pink meat of her twat. The cunt lips were pierced and bleeding. But the soft, pink wet inner meat of the cunt looked completely undamaged.
"Thank God he did nothing more to you, Princess," Lucy said.
Then she stuck out her tongue and plunged it deep into the Princess' pussy hole.
Monica sighed with pleasure now as she felt the long pointy tongue dart into her cunt and twist and turn around. She felt her cunt juices start to flow.
"Ohhhh, Lucy, that feels so good. How did I ever live without you?"
Lucy didn't answer, as she gently pushed the Princess entirely onto her back.
Now Lucy was squatting over the Princess, her face lost in the Princess' pussy meat. Lucy's own thighs were spread wide open, and, as tired as the Princess was, she could not resist this chance to repay her friend for her gratitude.
"Ohhhh, Lucy, how I have missed you," Monica sighed.
She raised her hands to her friend's ass and pulled the ass to her face.
As usual, or perhaps in connection with the blow job she had recently given the guard, Lucy was wearing no panties. Monica pushed her face into Lucy's cunt.
Then Lucy was moaning softly too, as the Princess sucked her pussy.
"Ohhhh, eat me, Princess. Nobody knows how to do it like you!"
Lucy looked up from Monica's box momentarily to speak.
She rubbed her beaver meat down against the Princess' face.
Then she pushed her own face back down into Monica's soft sex meat.
Both young girls were licking and lapping at each other contentedly.
Coming and moaning and writhing with hot sex joy together.
Their tongues could not get enough, their tongues could not dig in far enough, their tongues could not get enough of each other's hot wet meat.
But suddenly, Lucy looked up warily. She cocked her ear.
"Princess, I think I hear someone coming. We've got to get out of here."
The two girls got to their feet and wiped off their wet faces.
Lucy helped Monica get into her clothes. Then she led her to the door.
Outside was the guard who had promised to help Lucy get Monica.
Quickly he led them through the dark halls of the villa to the secret stairway that led out of the house and onto the cliff, from where they could escape.
He led them through the secret passage, but when he got to the door that led to the outside world, he stopped, and waited expectantly.
Lucy licked her lips and gulped. She said to the Princess:
"Princess, there is one other thing I promised him. In order to get him to help us. You must understand that he is risking his own life in helping us. Just think of how furious your husband will be when he finds out." Lucy smiled hesitantly.
"Yes, yes, what is it?" Monica asked impatiently.
The guard had the key to the door and she wanted him to let them out. .
"My father will give you whatever you want," she told him. "He will richly reward you. Now let us out!" But there was a strained silence.
"That is not what he wants, Princess. I promised him, well, I promised him that you would give him one too. The same thing that I gave him," Lucy said.
Monica sighed. "A blow job? Well, why didn't you say so?"
She looked up at the handsome young guard in the dark.
He was rather cute, after all. But it was ironic, really.
Here she was, the Princess of Bonaco, forced to suck the cock of a lowly guard.
She, who wouldn't even suck her own husband's cock all the way off.
She refused to take any man's nasty sperm in her mouth.
She turned to Lucy and said, "You promise a lot, Lucy."
Lucy turned away, looking hurt and frightened. "I was only thinking of you, Princess. It was the only thing I could offer him that he wanted."
Monica said, "Never mind," She turned back to the guard.
"What's your name?" she asked him, with a bored but patient voice.
"Waldo," the young tow-headed guard said with a crude smile.
"Well, open up your pants, Waldo and take it out. Let's get this over with."
Waldo blushed, but something was bothering him. He squirmed.
Lucy went over and stood on tiptoe and he whispered something in her ear.
Monica tapped her foot impatiently. She looked at Lucy. "Well?"
"Waldo says he doesn't like your attitude. He says he wants you to do it like you really want to do it. like you've never wanted to do it more in your life."
"Oh for Christ's sake!" said Monica impatiently, with irritation.
She was wondering if, between the two of them, she and Lucy could overpower this fucking guard and get the key from him and get out themselves.
She wondered where he had the key on him. But she looked at his bulging biceps now, as he brought his hands to his fly and unzipped his pants.
He looked pretty strong. Any guard hired by Jean-Luc would be.
But her eyes almost popped when she saw the size of his rod.
He had pulled it out of his pants and was playing with it.
He was staring at the royal princess, smiling, and jerking off.
"Jesus, will you look at the size of that pecker he's got on him!"
Lucy was staring too, and licking her lips hungrily.
She was remembering the delicious size of his wad that she had drunk down earlier.
In fact, she would have arrived to save the Princess much earlier.
If she hadn't gotten involved with this hunky guard.
She wouldn't let him go until she had eaten his ass and blown him several times.
"Go ahead, Princess, do it, hurry, we haven't much time," Lucy urged.
Calling upon her considerable talent for acting, Monica went down on her knees with a groan. She cupped the guard's big dick with her hands and crooned over it.
She licked the cap of his cockthe big mushroom-shaped head, while moaning.
She was pretending to herself that this was the man she loved-whoever that was.
And that this was the biggest juiciest cock in the world.
She was trying to pretend that this was not a lowly, common guard.
But some rich man. Some man richer even than Jean-Luc or her father.
Some man who would wait on her hand and foot, if she would only do this, only once to him. She went down on the guard's thick cock and stuck it deep into her throat.
Waldo was grinning happily, and he put his big meaty hands on her head.
And shoved his bulging wet penis head deeper into her thick throat.
All his life he had grown up looking at pictures in the paper of the princess Monica. Never in his life did he think he would be lucky enough to be in a position to have power over her, to get her to go down on her knees before him.
And give him a blow job, just like any other girl. He loved it.
"Ughghgh!" Monica gagged as the cock head lodged deep down her throat.
Lucy was getting so hot watching, that she went around behind Waldo.
She put her arms around him from behind and hugged his ass.
Then she started pulling his pants down. He loved this, and let her.
The hunky guard's pants were down around his knees, which were spread apart.
Then the dark-haired Lucy parted his taut ass cheeks with her hands.
She stuck her face in his ass crack and began eating his ass out.
She licked and sucked his anus, and lodged her tongue deep in his ass hole.
He was really grinding his hips and groaning. He was forcing the Princess' head far down on his throbbing cock shaft deeper than the Princess could take.
And he was grooving on Lucy's finger which was shoving up his ass-hole.
Lucy stared at his twin bags, his balls, flapping against Monica's chin.
Well, Monica wasn't using them, Lucy thought. She ducked under his legs.
And took his bags in her mouth and sucked on them. They were hairy.
Now the hunky guard was being sucked by two beautiful young girls.
His balls and his cock were tingling hot and grooving.
Now Lucy was trying to move in on Monica's position.
Lucy wanted to lick up that straight, hard, arrow-like shaft too.
The two girls vied for his cock, and they both licked it together.
Waldo looked down contentedly at the two young beauties sucking his dick.
He wished he had a camera, for later, he knew that none of his friends would believe him when he told them that he had been blown by Princess Monica and her friend.
But now, he was getting close to blowing his wad.
And Lucy was in the way. The hungry slut was eating out the Princess.
And had pulled his mushroom into her mouth and was blowing it hungrily.
He reached down and grabbed one of her big soft nipples and tweaked it hard.
Lucy cried out in pain, and his cock fell from her thick lips.
Waldo gave her a kick in her gut that sent her sprawling on the tunnel floor.
"It's all yours now, Princess," the brutish guard said.
He wrapped his meaty fingers around the Princess' head and forced her to take his meat all the way down inside her throat She was whimpering and gagging.
But things had gone out of her control now. She was in his power.
He started humping his hips and cock deep inside her.
Thrusting his strokes intolerably far down her throat.
When she didn't think she could bear it another minute longer, he started cumming.
He started pumping his wad steamy sticky wads of jism into her royal throat
She gulped and gasped and gagged on the heavy loads he was dumping down her.
Never before in her life, never!, had she let a man do this to her!
Not even her husband! No! That was why he had tied her up!
Because she had refused to suck or drink his cum! And now this!
The guard kept on happily pumping his spunk down the Princess' hot throat.
While Lucy lay on the ground, gripping her gut, and watching enviously.
When the Princess had finished off sucking down ever last drop of the guard's thick spunk, Waldo smiled and released her. Monica fell over, panting.
She gulped again and looked as though she were about to vomit.
But Lucy jumped to her feet as Waldo was putting his dick away.
"All right, she did it. Didn't I tell you she would? Open the door!"
Waldo produced the golden key from around his neck and let them out.
As they stepped out into the bright air of the Mediterranean sunshine, Monica sighed.
She had been through so much, so much, but now she was free.
Contentedly, walking hand in hand, the two girls made it to the road, where they thumbed a ride. In no time at all, they were entering the royal palace.
When Jean-Luc took his guests into the chamber where he had tied Monica up, and saw the dildo machine standing idle and empty, he had a fit of rage.
"Call all the guards! Block all the passageways!"
But it was too late. His princess wife had escaped.
His rage was incredible. He sent his guests away, all but Patricia.
Her, he let stay with him, for she would be useful to him.
In identifying which of his guards had aided and abetted his wife's escape.
For he knew that one of them had helped her. Otherwise, how could she have gotten away? He lined all his men up and made them stand at attention.
He asked the guilty party to confess now, before he made everyone suffer.
But no one stepped forward to admit his guilt, unfortunately.
The Countess Patricia was carefully eyeing the face of each young man as she walked up and down the line. She could sniff out guilt like a dog could smell a bone.
She stopped in front of Waldo and went down on her knees before him.
She sniffed at his crotch, and smelled the dried semen on him.
"Here's the guilty one, Jean-Luc, darling," she told him.
Patricia was infallible in cases like this. Jean-Luc made all the men stand at attention and watch as he meted out punishment to his disloyal guard.
"Tie him up, Patricia, tie him up and do anything you want. I don't care. He's all yours." With that, Jean-Luc turned on his heel and left.
He did not need to stay and watch. He knew Patricia's punishment would be thorough.
But he knew that his wife had gone back to her father.
He would have to go to the palace and get her back. She was his.
Patricia grinned as she made the young guard strip completely naked.
When he was naked, except for his high black leather boots, she cuffed his hands behind him, and she also cuffed his feet together. Then she put a collar on him.
She tied him by the neck to the whipping post. Then she got out her long black whip.
"One hundred lashes, soldier boy," she said happily.
Then she started laying it on his lash. She drew it out though.
For as long as she could. In between each stroke of the whip, she made his cock hard with her hands. Then she laid it on his ass again. His ass was soon covered with welts. The young boy tried to bear if like a man. But he was broken.
Soon he was screaming with pain as stroke upon stroke fell on his raw and sizzling ass meat, as she piled up welt upon welt, making sure his cock was good and hard.
When she was through, finally, he was slumped against the whipping pole.
All the other guards were sweating with fear and horror.
And yet they were all still standing at attention, watching Waldo's fate.
But the whipping had made the Countess Patricia very hot.
Fondling the hard cock had really turned her on, and warming his ass meat-warming it-making it sizzling hot like hamburger frying on a pan head also turned her on.
Now she fell upon the red hot cock and stuck it deep within her mouth.
That's all it took. The young guard was semi-conscious.
But his prick could "function without him. And it did.
He came inside the Countess' mouth, while she squeezed his burning ass flesh, and made him groan and scream with pain. She loved sucking his juice off inside her.
When Jean-Luc arrived at the palace, Monica's father, the King of Bonaco, was waiting for him. He was sitting on his throne in the royal throne room.
Monica, in a new fresh gown, was sitting in a smaller throne to his right.
She had poured out to her Daddy her whole sad tale of woe.
About . all the abuses her husband had heaped on her since their wedding day.
Now she was sitting there contentedly, knowing that her Daddy was going to get back at Jean-Luc for her. She stared at Jean-Luc contemptuously as he came in.
But Jean-Luc didn't even look at her. He went right up to her father.
"Sir," he said, "I have come to get my wife, your daughter."
The King, whose Christian name was George, looked at his son-in-law.
"You don't seriously think I'm letting her go back to you?" the King said.
"Sire, I don't know what your daughter has been telling you, but I can assure you it's all untrue. I have always treated her with the greatest respect."
"Bullshit," said Monica and she stood up and took off her gown.
"Look at this Daddy," she told her father, showing him the golden leashes that went from her nipples to her cunt. She pulled on them and showed him how they made her cunt lips open. She winced with pain and looked at Jean-Luc triumphantly.
But Jean-Luc had a horrified expression on his face.
He turned to the King. "I don't know where those things came from," he said.
The King, a handsome man in his fifties, was looking at his darling daughter curiously.
He said to Monica, "Is what he is saying true, Monica?"
"Daddy!" Monica shrieked, "how can you take his word over mine?"
She threw herself upon her father's lap and put her arms around him.
The nude young girl sat on her father's lap happily and stared at her husband.
"No," the King said, "I don't believe him for one minute."
He pulled a bell that summoned the palace guards. Two of them came running in.
"Seize that man!" the King ordered. "Seize him and throw him in the dungeon."
Jean-Luc started struggling, but it was to no avail.
The guards pulled his arms behind him and started leading him away.
"I'll get you for this, Monica!" Jean-Luc was screaming.
"You'll see! I'll get you! You're my wife and I have rights!"
But soon the King and his young daughter were left alone.
The King's fingers were itchy and he stroked his young daughter's body.
"You're safe now, honey, poor baby, let me see what he did to you."
His fingers went down to his poor baby's pussy, and he spread her vagina open.
Monica breathed a sigh of ecstasy and relief as her father's fingers went inside her. He made her cunt get all hot and wet quite quickly.
And she pulled on the gold leashes that were attached to her pussy lips, to hold her pussy wide open to her dear Daddy's good fingers.
He was stroking her beaver and making her all nice and hot inside.
The King's cock was getting hot and hard in his royal pants.
Just then the Queen looked into the throne room. She saw what was going on.
She had just passed Jean-Luc being led away by the guards in the hall.
Instantly she knew what was going on. She hurried after the guards.
And she made them release the young man. She'd married her daughter off, hoping to get rid of her for good. What was wrong with this young man?
Didn't he know how to keep a young wife in line? Angrily she conferred with Jean-Luc.
He told her the whole story, of Monica's escape. The Queen was furious.
She burst into the throne room again, this time with several of her own personal armed guards. They held their automatic guns raised and at readiness.
They all burst into the throne room just as Monica was spreading open her twat, and the King was fitting the big hard head of his penis to his daughter's cunt.
"Hold it right there, the two of you," the Queen spat out.
She said to her guards, "Surround them. Get her down off of him."
The secret of the Bonaco kingdom was that the King was pussy whipped by his wife.
She pushed her crying daughter back into Jean-Luc's hands.
"Take her home and see that she doesn't escape from you again!" the Queen ordered Jean-Luc. He snapped a pair of handcuffs on Monica's hands.
"No, Mother! No!" Monica was screaming as Jean-Luc led her triumphantly away.
"And as for you, darling husband," the Queen was saying, as she led her blubbering husband to his spanking horse and bound him naked to it, "you have behaved like a bad bad boy, and you will have to pay for it!" She got out the royal paddle.
And the royal palace of Bonaco was filled with the King's remorseful cries as his wife beat the shit out of him. Monica suffered the same fate, back in her husband's villa. She had almost escaped the cruel fate of her husband.
But as he beat and paddled her ass, she knew she was his slave forever.
A WAYWARD STEPSON
PART ONE
Laura Nutcrush sighed as she sucked on her one hundred millimeter cigarette, further lengthened by the cigarette holder she always used. What was she to do?
Her latest husband had died and left her with his seventeen year old son to bring up. The boy was sadly lacking in discipline. This had been obvious from the start.
But, out of love for her husband, who had died suddenly of a heart attack, she had said nothing, hoping that a mother s love would restore the boy to better behavior.
But now she had sole responsibility for him. It was really more than she wanted.
To say he was unruly was quite an understatement, she felt.
Now, Laura had always considered herself a tolerant person.
She respected the privacy of other people, provided they respected her privacy in return. Which Roger, the boy, clearly did not do at all.
He intruded on her privacy in a million different ways.
First of all, he was always playing that damned fucking rock music, loud, until all hours of the night. They lived in a luxurious apartment on Madison Avenue, on the Upper East Side, where such behavior was not acceptable.
She was beginning to get complaints from the neighbors, and the super had come to talk to her about it. Several times she had told Roger to turn it down.
But he would not. Or could not. Maybe he was stupid? She did not know.
Then there was the endless parade of friends he brought into the house.
God alone knew who they were or where they came from.
Laura did not. That boy really had a nerve, she thought.
After all, it was her apartment. Wilton, Roger's father, and Laura's (fifth) deceased husband, had moved into her Madison Ave. pad with her.
And a lovely pad it was. Her third husband had bequeathed it to her.
It was huge, with three spacious bedrooms, a small guest room, a huge living room in which there was a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books, a spacious kitchen and dining room and three bathrooms! He was living here like a king!
And taking advantage of her at every move. She was furious at herself.
How could she ever have allowed herself to let this situation develop?
Laura Nutcrush (she had gone back to her maiden name after her husband's death) was a very beautiful, if somewhat stern-looking lady.
She was tall and slinky, with beautiful long legs and rather large breasts.
But her waist and hips were small and narrow. She had a gorgeous mane of thick red hair which hung to her waist, when she wasn't wearing it pulled back in a long tail.
She was sitting there, enjoying the tranquility of having the apartment all to herself for a change, and listening to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony on her quadraphonic stereo system. Just then the front door opened and she heard many voices.
From where she was sitting in the living room, she could see many boys tramping in. They were all laughing and talking loudly, and they were all filthy.
Roger was among them of course, the filthiest and loudest.
They had all been playing soccer in the muddy field at Central Park.
They were trailing in dirty muddy footprints behind them.
All over her beautiful waxed, parquet floor. Roger led them into the all-white kitchen.
Very calmly, very slowly and seriously and deliberately, Laura got up and followed them into the kitchen. She just stood in the doorway, looking at them.
She was wearing tight black pants and a tight tank top and black leather high heels.
"Hello, boys," she said in her friendliest voice. "Have a good day?"
Roger was giving out soda and orange juice, emptying the refrigerator.
Some of the boys looked up and said bashfully, "Oh hello, Ma'am."
Most of Roger's friends were really awed by his beautiful stepmother.
Who was nothing like their own mothers. An uneasy silence spread through the kitchen.
"Aren't you going to say hello, Roger?" Laura asked sweetly.
"Yeah, hello. How is the world treating you, Mom?" he said, emphasizing 'Mom' sarcastically. :
She had asked him not to call her 'Mom,' since it was obvious that she was not his real mother, and since she didn't even want to try to live up to the memory he had of his dead mother in his mind. So this was said to irritate her.
She said, still maintaining her sweetness, "I hate to have to say this, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you boys to leave," she told Roger's friends.
Roger looked up at her suddenly, with narrowed eyes of hatred.
"I have a terrible headache," she explained.
Already Roger's friends started shuffling apologetically towards the door.
"They can stay! Hey, guys! Don't go!" Roger shouted.
They looked over their shoulders dubiously, and one boy, who really had a crush on Roger's stepmother said, "No, that's all right Roger, we wouldn't want to disturb your, I mean, Mrs., I mean," the poor boy blushed red to his roots.
He didn't know what to call the beautiful haughty-looking woman.
She smiled at his distress and didn't help him out.
"That's most considerate of you, Jerry," she told him.
"Come on, you guys! I told you, you could come over!" Roger insisted.
His dark black hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.
"Boys, I think you'd better leave, right now," Laura said very quietly.
She watched as they moved to the front door as one, tracking more and more dirty footprints on her parquet floor. She was sizzling with anger.
And when she got angry she got quiet, real quiet.
Roger picked up the soccer ball and put it under his arm.
"If they're going then I'm going too. Come on, guys," he said.
He started to cross the space that divided him from the gang.
Laura put one hand out and stopped him dead cold. There was something in his eyes that made the young adolescent boy afraid, though he would not admit it to himself.
"I think you'd better stay here, Roger, I have something I want to discuss with you," the beautiful dominant woman told her young stepson very quietly.
Roger felt his heart pounding at the touch of her lovely, white, groomed hand on his filthy jersey. Her fingers seemed to communicate heat right through his shirt to his bare chest. But he tried to resist the forces that were holding him to the floor.
"I want to go with them!" he said, sounding more like a petulant little boy that the macho guy he tried to be. He almost even stamped his foot.
Laura increased the pressure on his chest with her finger only slightly.
"I think you'd better stay here, Roger," she said in a voice that was almost friendly. And somehow, Roger found himself rooted to the ground.
He watched helplessly as his friends crowded out the door.
They were gaining back their speed and spirit as they crossed the threshhold.
"See you later, Rog! See you tomorrow!" they called back to him.
Then one of them closed the door behind them, and Roger was left alone with his stepmother. She had only been married to his dad for a couple of months before his dad unexpectedly died. But he'd never liked Laura anyway.
She was a whole lot younger than his dad had been and the young developing boy had always felt a sexual tension between himself and the thirty year old woman.
He'd said to himself that his father must have married her because she was just a good fuck. But he wondered what Laura had seen in his dad.
He was convinced that she'd married him for his money.
His father had been quite wealthy. And when Roger found out, looking secretly though Laura's file cabinet one day when she was out and he had swiped the key, that she'd had four other husbands, all of whom had been quite wealthy, and died unexpectedly, leaving their money to her, he'd been doubly suspicious of her.
"What do you want?" he said to her toughly, chomping on gum.
"Take your gum out of your mouth when you talk to me, Roger," she replied evenly.
"It looks quite unattractive when a person talks with his mouth full. And you're such an attractive young man." She withdrew her finger from his chest.
Roger continued chomping on his gum most distinctly.
He took a kind of macho stance, legs spread so he could balance on his weight evenly, his jaw squared directly at her. He had blue eyes and black hair.
And he already had a beard and had to shave almost every day.
Right now he had a five o'clock shadow of little blue-black dots on his jaw.
Sports were what he lived for, and he played them all.
That was why his body was so tough and firm and well-developed.
He said, "I bet you got quite a thing for 'attractive boys', don't you?"
He grinned lewdly in her face. She puffed her cigarette with amusement.
And she laughed. "Are you trying to tell me that you want to go to bed with me?"
He said, "Lady, nothing could be farther from my mind. I wouldn't go to bed with you if you were the last broad on this planet." But now he was getting nervous.
As any man will tell you, at the age of seventeen, a young man is somewhat nervous about proving his manhood. His sexuality is always in question.
It is like a wire (hat you pull tight from both ends.
But Laura was not perturbed by the rudeness of his remark.
She merely said, "Roger, are you still a virgin?" with a smile.
"What's it to you?" he asked roughly, but he could not betray his nervousnous now. He almost swallowed his gum, and choked on it, and began coughing.
Laura looked away, trying to hide her amusement while he coughed the gum out of his throat. When his coughing fit was over, she said to him:
"You are a virgin, aren't you? Are you afraid of losing your virginity?"
He said, "Look, this is none of your fucking business. What did you want to talk to me about! I assume you don't need me around to fulfill your filthy sex life with!"
She smiled and nodded. "About that, you are quite right. No, what I wanted to talk to you about was this." And with the most ingenuous expression on her face, she suddenly grabbed him by the arm and flipped him over her back with ease.
He landed flat on his face on the floor, his nose in the dirty footprints.
Instantly the lithe and hefty lady was on top of him.
She knead the small of his back, while twisting one of his arms high up between his shoulder blades! A judo expert, all this was quite easy for her to do.
He was slapping the dirty parquet floor with his free hand as he cried out:
"Let go! Let go! Owwwww! Godammnit!" whiningly.
She said with infinite patience, "Say uncle."
She squeezed his arm even higher up between his shoulder blades.
"Uncle! Uncle! You're hurting me!" the big boy cried out.
She let go and and stood up, looking down at him.
He lay there on the floor, close to blubbering! He hated her so much.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Roger. There, what you're looking at on the floor. Those dirty footprints. And the dirty hand marks on the refrigerator. And the fact that there's no more orange juice left for my screwdriver."
She smiled down at him, as she saw him rub his hurt wrist with the other hand.
"Are you beginning to get the picture?" she asked pleasantly.
Slowly he sat up and pulled himself to his feet. He avoided her eyes.
"Get the maid to clean it," he said suddenly and viciously.
Her eyes narrowed. "No, that's not what the maid is for. You're going to clean it up yourself, Roger. The mop and the bucket are in there." She pointed to the broom closet. But she did not really expect him to give in yet.
He lashed out with, "You got all my father's money! You can have the fucking maid clean it up! Maybe my father was a fucking pansy, but I'm not."
Her blow smashed into his face before he knew what hit him.
Now the burly youth was on the floor again, gripping his bleeding lip.
She was also an expert in karate, but usually she didn't like to use it this way.
"Don't you ever use that kind of language to me again, young man, or I'll really give you something to sulk about. Now stand up and listen to me."
He stood up, blinking back the tears in his eyes miserably.
He hated this woman so much because she made him feel like a kid.
like a little boy. When he was trying so hard to be a man instead.
But she could get the upper hand over him because she was, ultimately, stronger than he was, though he was seventeen and muscular all over. v
But he had never studied fighting. And she was an expert in the martial arts.
"Go and take a shower, and clean yourself off, before you get anymore dirt in here. Then I want you to mop up this mess. Now get r
.going."
He looked at her hatefully one more time, then turned and went down the hall to his room, way at the other end of the apartment.
She heard him slam his door loudly, and then she heard a blast of stereo music.
She gritted her teeth with displeasure. That boy needed to be taught a lesson, a real good lesson, that would penetrate all the way through his thick head.
And she was going to teach it to him. She waited two minutes until her blood had calmed down. Then she went into her bedroom all done in pale blue silk.
She stripped off all her clothes. She had a magnificent body.
Her breasts were quite large, huge you might say, with big red nipples.
The rest of her was slim and slender. You almost wondered how such a slender woman could support such huge tits. They looked so big it almost seemed as if they would weigh her down, pull her over. But her balance was quite good, actually.
Especially when she was wearing her spiked high heeled shoes.
She took off everything but her high heels. She got out her long black bullwhip, which she kept coiled up, like snake, in a leather bag under her bed.
She heard the pipes start knocking which meant, she knew, that the shower water was running down the hall. She took a joint out of an exquisitely carved and inlaid box and lit and started smoking it, while she held the bull whip in coiled in one hand, and let the fingers of that hand linger down to her fuzzy red pussy hair.
She was thinking of the hot scene about to come up.
She knew exactly what she was going to do, and she pictured it all in her mind.
She was going to tame him. She stirred her pussy up, stirring the thick black handle of the whip into the juices of her cunt meat while getting off.
After a moment of his preliminary excitement, she got up.
Humming a tune, the Stones' "Black and Blue All Over," she went down the hall.
Without knocking, she opened the door to her stepson's bathroom.
She stepped right into the bathroom which was filled with steamy heat.
She closed and locked the door behind her, and leaned against it.
She could see the vague, shadowy outline of Roger's virile oody behind the clouded glass of the shower stall. She went up to the door and opened up.
Roger was standing there with his face upturned to the water, and soap in his eyes when he felt, rather than heard her presence. His stereo was blaring in his bedroom next door. Through his stinging eyes he barely had a chance to see her.
Her nude body, her boobs, her wild red hair, her terrible grin!
Then she started lashing out at him! Crucifying him with her bullwhip all the way across the bathroom floor. She had to step back to get the full range of the bullwhip into play. And he was trapped, trapped inside the narrow shower stall.
She threw his body from side to side with the cracking tongue of her whip.
With satisfaction, she felt the delicious contact her bullwhip made with the taut wet flesh of his young virile body. Again and again she whipped him soundly.
Bright red welts, like darting, pointing tongues, rose up across his hairless chest and hairy thighs and across the hair of his groin!
He tried to cover his genitals, tried to cover his face and thighs!
The shower water ran red as his skin and flesh opened up and bled.
And the blood was rinsed away immediately by the rushing water.
He tried to turn his back to her, but this only gave her opportunity to lay on many satisfying strokes of her whip on his nice tight buttocks and on his back.
Finally he was no more than a quivering mass of whimpering, frightened boyhood, in one corner of the shower stall. The soap had left his eyes and he could see her quite clearly now. In spite of himself, he had a huge erection.
He had never been this close up to a naked woman before!
Such big, luscious boobs! The kind he dreamed about in wet dreams!
And there was her belly, and there was her pussy hair and there....
Oh, Jesus, John and Mary-there was her box and everything!
Now she was standing with her black high heeled shoes planted firmly apart.
She held her whip coiled at her side. Her red hair was streaming down her neck and face, as she had gotten partially wet by the shower water splashing.
She put her fingers to her cunt and started stirring it up.
Roger's heart was pounding as he watched her come closer.
"Get over here on your knees and eat it!" she told him contemptuously.
And the seventeen year old boy, with the pounding hard on, found himself crawling towards her, obeying her every command, his whole body bruised and battered by her brutal whip, his fingers trembling as he drew himself up her hips to her cunt.
She spread her meat open wide for him and let him eat from between her thighs.
She saw, with contempt, that he was jerking himself off crazily with one hand.
His hard-on was big and huge and throbbing with pain.
Several times his shaft had caught the blow of her whip too!
But the welts she had raised on his cock only made his cock get harder!
He was jerking off, frantically, frenetically, almost crying and sobbing, as his tongue plunged again and again in her desired meat and he sucked her off.
The taste of her cunt was entirely new to him, and the more he ate, the hungrier he got. The taste of cunt was delicious, intoxicating, addictive.
She felt satisfying throbs run through her as she looked down at him, then closed her eyes and shoved his nose and mouth deeper into her wet twat.
When the shudders had-racked her body and subsided, she opened her eyes.
He was staring up at her with something like love in his eyes, something like adoration really, and then suddenly his eyes closed.
He pressed his head between her thighs, and brought himself off.
She saw his gun shoot off in his hand, dumping several large gobs of cum all over the wet bathroom floor. She looked at the lash marks on his back.
And was satisfied. She pulled away from his gripping hands.
And put one high heel to his chest and gave him a shove.
She didn't push very hard, just enough to send him sprawling backwards.
Then she turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving him on the messy, wet, bloody floor, in the middle of a pool of his own filthy cum.
She went down the hall to her own room, locked the door, washed and dried and had a cigarette. Then, feeling fresh and fragrant, she went over the scene in her mind again.
This time she started to embellish it with new ideas and details.
The truth was, she hadn't counted on having this type of relationship with Roger.
. His father had been one thing. An adult, who knew his own sexuality.
Wilton had been a man who openly acknowledged his need to be dominated.
He was a confessed passive, who loved to be fucked up by a woman.
And Laura hadn't married him for his money, as Roger suspected.
What did Laura need his money for? She already had plenty from her former husbands.
No, it had been Wilton who begged her to marry him.
He'd promised to clean the house and do all the cooking and suck her toes and do whatever she wanted. All she'd done was answer his ad in the New York Review of Books that said a lonely, literate, kind and passive older man was looking for a strong dominant lady to have a warm relationship with. That was right up Laura's alley.
But she'd never counted on his son. And now, this had developed.
Laura had to admit, as she got out her vibrator and turned it on and inserted it into her pussy, sliding it up next to her clit, that the scene with Roger had been hot. But how much had the boy understood of what was going on?
That was what she had to ask herself. Generally she did not believe in getting into scenes with minors. She believed in consenting adults getting it on.
That was one thing. But innocent young, stupid boys, were another thing.
She was sure Roger was a virgin, just as she was sure that that was the first time he'd eaten cunt. She almost felt as if she owed him an apology.
Then she felt angry with herself as she spread her legs wide and started coming.
"I gave him my pussy!" she reasoned with herself. "He should be grateful! Thank me! I don't owe him anything, least of all an apology! As for that whipping, he deserved it! I know soft words and kindness mean nothing to a punky young boy."
Thus she reasoned with herself, as she brought herself off to the heights of ecstasy with the large vibrating dildo going in and out of her cunt.
When finally, with her legs spread wide open and her muff wide open, she had brought herself off and was exhausted, she felt an uneasiness.
What is going on here, she asked herself. Am I getting old or something? Am I losing my touch? I must be crazy, to question my own motives that way. The boy deserved what he got and that's that! Maybe next time he'll think twice about abusing my generosity! And if not, I'll beat sense into him. He'll earn, one way or another!
PART TWO
Hours later, when she had dressed again and came out of her room, the apartment was quiet. She listened for a moment, but heard no blaring stereo.
In fact, she heard Beethoven's Ninth, playing in the living room.
She went down the hall towards the living room and kitchen.
There, somewhat to her surprise, on his hands and knees on the floor, wearing nothing but a clean pair of green running shorts, was Roger! With a rag in his hand!
He was cleaning the footprints off the floor, on his hands and knees.
For a moment she almost wanted to laugh-he looked like an old cleaning lady!
She strode up to him, in pink high-heeled slippers now, with pink puff ball on each pink mule, and in her emerald green, velvet dressing gown.
She looked down at him. He was looking up at her, sort of cringing on the floor.
The change in his attitude was really incredible.
She saw that the welts on his back weren't really very deep after all.
But she had left thin red stripes on his lean and tawny back.
He looked up at her and said, "I went out and bought more orange juice, for you, Laura. If you like, I'll make you a screwdriver." He gulped.
She stepped over him into the kitchen and saw the sparkling white floor.
"Never mind, Roger," she said in a tired voice, impatiently.
She'd really had enough of him for one night. She just wanted to be alone.
"No really, Laura, I insist! Let me make it for you, I want to! You just go inside to the living room and sit down." The boy was on his feet already.
He went and got the ice and a glass. She watched him for a moment longer.
Then she went inside and sat down in a big soft comfortable chair.
He made a good screwdriver, she had to say that for him. :
He could probably do a lot of other things real well too, when he set his mind to it, she thought, staring at the way his running shorts wrinkled over the bulge at his groin. She recalled how big his cock had gotten when he jerked off.
Not bad, not bad at all, for a lad of seventeen.
Although he was approaching his prime. Men peaked at nineteen she reminded herself.
While women reached the height of their sexuality at thirty.
Or so the experts say. She was still musing on these facts when Roger appeared at her side anxiously. He said, "Is the drink all right? I finished washing the floor. Is there anything else I can do for you? Get for you, Laura?"
She sighed. She said, "Yes, there is something else you can do for me, Roger. You can get lost. Go on, get out of here. I don't want to see your face tonight!"
She was nursing her drink discontentedly when she heard him turn and go down the hall. A few minutes later she heard him go out the front door.
And he didn't slam the door either. Well, certainly they had made progress.
It only went to show you that she had been right after all.
With a growing young male ego, force was the only way to communicate.
And force, juxtaposed with the pussy, was most effective of all.
Just then the telephone rang. She thought about not answering.
Who could it be that she wanted to talk to? No one. But she answered anway.
Maybe it would be a dirty phone caller to amuse her. "Hello?"
"Hi, cunt, is that you?" a familiar voice said over the line.
"Magdelaina? Is that you? Is it really you? Where are you?"
"At Kennedy airport. Darling, I just got back into town and what do you think I found out? My apartment building burnt down and I have nowhere to go? Can you take a house guest for a couple of days? Just until I find somewhere to stay!"
"Darling Magdelaina, of course you can come here! How was Sweden?"
"I'll tell you all about it when I arrive! See you soon!"
In an hour, Magdelaina was at her front door. She'd gotten the cab driver to help her bring her bags up to Laura's door for her, Laura marveled.
Magdelaina, a blonde beauty, really had a way with men.
"And I didn't even tip him," the breathy blonde beauty said as the cab driver tipped his hat and turned away. "That is, I tried to, but he wouldn't accept any money."
"I can't imagine why, Magdelaina darling," Laura said.
But she was speaking tongue in cheek for Magdelaina's appearance explained all.
The blonde bombshell was dressed in a tight red jersey dress which clung to every curve of her voluptuous body. Her cleavage was like a big huge valley in between her long melon-like breasts. Her waist was small, and her hips large.
She had long blonde hair which fell against her nipples.
And she had sparking blue eyes that snapped with vitality.
Her legs were long and slender and her thighs were also like melons.
Her dress was quite short, just barely covering the luscious curve of her ass.
"Darling, how have you been? You look wonderful! Oh, I'm so sorry. I heard you lost your husband. Darling, you are addicted to husbands, aren't you?"
Laura sighed with resignation. "I never want to get married. But the men always beg me until I can't say no anymore. They just never take no for an answer."
"You must learn how to be firmer with men, that's all."
Laura took off her white gloves and looked around the place.
"It's just like I remember it. Aren't you lonely, living in such a big place all by yourself? I would be, I know. But then I love to party."
Laura said, "I don't live here alone, you know. I have a stepson."
"A stepson! Darling! That's sounds yummy. How old? A blonde?"
Laura smiled knowing Magdelaina's penchant for young blonde's.
"No, I'm afraid not, he's dark-haired, seventeen, and quite rebellious, until recently that is." She smiled and made her friend a drink.
A Harvey Wallbanger. Magdelaina had the worst taste, she thought.
"A Harvey, darling you remembered!" Magdelaina lifted her glass to toast.
"Here's to the second time around," the lovely blonde said.
Her 'first time around' in New York had ended with deportation.
Now she was making a second go of it, under an assumed name.
"So, he's unruly, better and better. And what is this wicked boy's name?"
"His name is Roger. But if you don't mind, darling, hands off him."
Even as she said this, Laura knew it was ludicrous to say it.
There was no such thing as hands off when it came to Magdelaina and men.
"All right, all right, the little dear is all yours. It's just that I thought I might be able to teach you a new trick or two. Some things I picked up in Sweden."
"Oh?" said Laura suddenly interested. "Such as what?"
Magdelaina suddenly lifted up her skirt, revealing a flesh-colored pair of panties with a slit down the middle of the front of them.
She pulled the slit open wide and then pulled open her soft blonde covered twat.
"My God!" Laura gasped in amazement and admiration..
"It's incredible," she added, "wherever did you get it?"
For Magdelaina was displaying to her, lodged in the top of her cunt, a gleaming set of pearly white teeth that she made snap open and closed by moving her twat.
"Aren't they fantastic! I had them specially fitted for me. I showed them to the cab man. I think that's why he wouldn't let me pay."
"I guess you're right," said Laura ironically with a smile.
But then she added, "I tell you, Maggie, I really don't go in for all the gimmicky stuff lately anymore. I've found that the good old whip and high heels gets them much better, every time. I've let all the other stuff go by the wayside."
"Mmmmm, yeah, I know what you mean. This kind of thing is really rather showy. Still it is kind of fun, too." She reached into her twat with two fingers.
And pulled the set of snapping cunt teeth out and licked it off.
"Mmmmmm, mmmm, good," she said before setting the teeth down on the coffee table.
"Darling, do you think that's quite sanitary?" Laura said doubtfully.
"Still the stickler for cleanliness, aren't you, Laurie? Well, your boy can clean the table up for you, can't he? By the way, where is he?"
"He's out right now," Laura replied, looking into Maggie's eyes.
"Great. Want to do a little number?" Maggie asked.
Of course Laura had been thinking the exact same thing.
They went at each other right then and there on the living room rug.
It was a thick pile rug and soft as a fur. The sex was interspersed with smoking marijuana. First they fell on top of one another, kissing passionately.
They rubbed their bodies together, remembering feel by feel, the feel of one another's flesh. Their boobs pressed together like cousins kissing.
Cousins who haven't seen one another in a long, long time.
Then Magdelaina was reaching down into Laura's green dressing gown for in between her thighs. Laura spread her thighs open wide, happily for Magdelaina's searching fingers.
"Oh darling, I love the way you do me. That feels so good!"
Magdelaina was scratching Laura's itch, right in the right place.
Laura reached up under Magdelaina's short red dress and found the slit in the front of the blonde's flesh-colored panties. Her fingers went in.
And struck home in Magdelaina's hot cunt which spread right open.
Magdelaina was already steaming wet and raring to go.
When Lama's finger entered her pussy and started diddling her hot red clit.
"It sure has been a long time, baby, hasn't it?" Laura crooned.
Magdelaina said, "Darling, you don't know how I've missed your cunt."
Now they were turning around on top of each other, and going down on each other.
Magdelaina, the heftier of the two women, was on the bottom on her back.
She was spreading her white thighs wide open and parting her cunt meat.
Her blonde pussy hair spread out all over her thighs like a flower.
Laura, on top, was almost entirely covered by her long red hair.
But her big boobs were hanging down, swaying as she rubbed her pussy meat back and forth on Magdelaina's big tits, before backing it onto Magdelaina's face.
Then she put her own face into Magdelaina's pussy meat and started eating.
She licked the big tab of red flesh pulsing right inside Magdelaina's pussy.
And Magdelaina's face was lost in the hairy twat of Laura's hot box.
They were thus engaged, when Roger, unheard by either of them, came back in the apartment.
He just stood in the hallway staring at them, at the two Amazon women.
Who were so deeply into sucking cunt that they never noticed him standing there.
Until Magdelaina's eye caught him and she turned and stared.
"Darling?" she said to Laura, "is that the boy?"
He was standing there with a growing boner in his pants.
Staring in wonder at the scene he had never seen before.
Laura looked up and gasped with displeasure. Her eyes grew narrow.
"Go to your room at once," she told him, her voice filled with rage.
Roger did not need to be told twice, as he knew about her rages now.
He turned and left, but now the girls' passion had been dampened.
"How dare he come in and just stand there like that!" Laura raged.
"It was rather rude of him. I thought you said you had gotten him under your thumb pretty well? He is awfully cute, even though he's not a blonde."
Laura got up off Magdelaina's body. Her beaver was wet and dripping.
Her face was also wet and dripping, as was Magdelaina's.
"Darling," Laura said, "you'll have to excuse me. I think I'd better go and have a session immediately. You know what they say you have to do when training a young puppy. If he shits on your floor, wipe his nose in it immediately. If you wait until later, he no longer remembers what he's done wrong," Laura said.
Wrapping her robe around her, she kissed Magdelaina and went off down the hall.
Magdelaina lay there staring at the ceiling for a while.
The sounds of Roger's screams of pain came drifting down the hall, and she felt lonely. She could understand why Laura didn't want her moving on in her scene with Roger.
After all, young boys were pretty hot at that age.
And Laura wasn't getting any younger. Laura wanted him all to herself.
With her legs still spread wide open, and with one finger in between her thighs, Magdelaina made a phone call. She called up one of her favorite people in the world.
Mandy, her "niece." Mandy wasn't really her niece of course.
She was just a pretty young girl who Magdelaina got off on.
But Magdelaina liked to think of Mandy as her niece. It was part of their game.
"Mandy? Hi! It's me, I'm back in town!
Yes, I'm staying on the east side at a friend's. How are you, pussy-face? Did you miss me? Really?"
Mandy was only twenty-one years old but she looked like sixteen.
She really loved her "auntie." She asked, "Can I come over and see you?"
Magdelaina hesitated, then she said, "Sure." She gave the address.
And so it was that, an hour later, a young girl, dressed in baby clothes, arrived at the door of the fashionable east side apartment, smiling.
She was wearing a white baby bonnet and a short, frilly white dress.
Her big boobs pushed the top of the dress out ridiculously.
And the girl was carrying a big red lollipop which she licked occasionally.
She was also sucking her tongue, while she stood there, pigeon-toed.
"Mandy?" Magdelaina said throwing open the door joyously.
"Auntie?" said Mandy, throwing herself on the blonde bombshell.
Magdelaina lifted up Mandy's frilly skirts and saw that Mandy was wearing diapers.
"You didn't wet yourself on the way over here, did you little girl?"
She stuck her hand inside Mandy's diapers and felt Mandy's fuzzy cunt.
It was wet, and so were the diapers, and the smell of urine was strong.
"Bad girl!" said Magdelaina, squeezing her 'niece's' wet cunt.
"You still aren't toilet trained. You need a spanking!"
And with that she dragged the kicking screaming girl into the apartment.
She put her down over her knee and raised up her frilly white skirt.
She unpinned the diapers and threw them in a hot steaming pile on the flawless parquet floor. Then she reached into one of her nearby suitcases and got out her favorite wooden paddle. Pretty soon she was warming Mandy's ass, and Mandy was filling the apartment with the sound of her cries. But the people down at the other end of the apartment never noticed, as they were rather preoccupied. Laura was kicking and beating Roger as he rolled over and over on the floor.
Sometimes he tried to protect himself, his face and genitals.
But sometimes he just gave up, realizing that only made things worse.
"How dare you stand there staring at me and my friend that way! Don't you have any manners? Were you born in a stable? What are youa fucking pig, anyway?"
Brutally she kicked and stabbed him with her high heels.
Over and over again, the frightened, but turned-on young man muttered:
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Truly, I am! I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"
"You bet your fucking cock and balls it won't happen again, kid. Because if it does, I'll fucking cremate you. This won't hold a candle to what I'll do if I catch you at something like that again!" Now she crouched over him.
She threw off her gown. She grabbed his head by the hair.
She pulled his face to her pussy. "You like it, don't you? There, go ahead! Eat it! Eat it all you want! But just remember who's giving it to you!"
She let him give her head, and plenty of it. She watched him as hungrily he ate out cunt, for the second time in his life, and the second time that night.
"Good, isn't it? You like it, don't you?" she slapped his face.
"Yes! Yes!" he admitted. "I love it. It's so good."
He held her by the buttocks and he dove deep into her cunt with his tongue.
But his eyes were open and on her large, hard-nippled boobs.
Laura laughed and moved her beaver off his face and she gave him tit.
"Here, suck it, kid, it's good for you." She thrust her erect nipple into his mouth. like a new-born babe, he clutched her large soft white tit.
It was like a melon in his hands and he licked the nipple hungrily.
Pushing her big boobs together, she made him take both nipples in his mouth simultaneously. And all the time she was watching him. Watching his hunger.
Thinking how, quite by chance, she had come upon a real gold mine in this boy.
Now she took her big boobs from him and she turned around on top of his face.
She spread her thighs open and pulled open her ass cheeks.
"Eat my ass hole, Roger, eat it out. You'll love it. Stick your tongue way in there."
Helplessly, and in love, Roger did just as she said.
She was initiating him incredibly into all the kinky wonders of sex.
He knew that none of his friends had gotten anything of any girl like what Laura his stepmother had given him that night. And he was grateful.
Every one of her delights was delicious. Even her tasty ass hole.
He stuck his tongue deeply into her hot back door and ate it out hungrily.
Laura was grinding her ass meat against his boyish face.
"Who's giving you all this? Answer me! Who!" she screamed.
She was slapping him around the groin and thighs. His cock was as big as a house.
But still she did not touch it. She wanted his answer first.
"You are, Laura. You! You! You!" he shouted out from beneath her ass.
"Mistress Laura to you, you fucking worthless pig!" she screamed at him.
"Mistress Laura! Yes! You are my Mistress!" the aroused boy called.
He plunged his tongue lovingly into her ass hole again.
"And don't forget it!" Laura shouted. Before she bent her head over and went down on his monstrous erection with her wet lips and tongue.
When (and if) a mistress does in some way provide sexual pleasure for one of her slaves, it is as if the final bond is made between them. like a seal.
She did things to him that the seventeen year old boy had never even dreamed a woman could do. Her tongue danced on the underside of his throbbing penis.
She made the rim of the head of his cock glow! The shaft of his dick was huge.
Throbbing as it had never throbbed before in years of wet dreams.
When she plunged his huge cock head deep into her throat the boy gasped.
He was, alas, plagued by premature ejaculation as so many inexperienced adolescent boys are prone to be. They get overexcited and don't yet know how to control themselves.
And so it was, that he shot his wad off deep inside his Mistress's cunt-like throat.
"Ughghgh!" Laura gagged, as she realized what was happening.
At first she thought he had done it on purposeand she couldn't believe it!
None of her men, not one of them, had ever dared try such a thing!
She came up off his spurting spouting cock with furious anger!
But then she remembered that he was a mere boy, and that he probably could not yet control the spouting of his seed, and so she just shoved the spouting head of his dick against her cheeks and let his sperm come out all over his face while she rubbed the slick wet stuff around on her skin. A man's sperm was said to be excellent wrinkle cream, and she was a little anxious about getting old.
PART THREE
Roger hardly spent any time with his friends anymore.
He no longer seemed to have any interest in playing sports.
While Laura was pleased with this in some ways, she didn't think it healthy.
Also, she really didn't like him mooning about so much.
He was always trying to help her, always trying to anticipate her needs.
It was sweet, but it was also kind of a drag. He was always underfoot.
Finally she kicked him out of the house one day, just to have some peace and quiet. Roger had turned into an all-too-willing slave, she found.
She went into his room to survey the changes that had been made.
There, pressed and starched, by Roger himself, was his maid's outfit.
She had bought it really as a joke, but found him very willing to put it on.
Tight black dress, starched white collar, straight skirt.
Black stockings and high heels and a little white maid's cap.
She'd even bought him a bra and panties to go with it all.
He took very good care of his outfit, keeping it clean and pressed.
And he polished his high heeled shoes every day. He was very proud of them.
He had learned to walk on them without too much difficulty, unlike his father.
It was surprising, she thought, going over to his underwear drawer and opening it up. She took out a pair of sheer black panties she had bought for him.
She sniffed the crotch suspiciously. It was just as she had thought.
The smell of sperm was there. He had been using them to masturbate into.
She sighed and put the offensive panties back in the drawer.
She would have to talk to him about that again. She just couldn't cure him of masturbating, and she was surprised that he had the spunk in him to do it.
He had erections and ejaculations several times a day with her.
During their sessions together. She had trained him quite well in the matter of premature ejaculation. In fact, he hardly had that problem anymore.
Now he waited for her permission to shoot off, and he waited until she gave it.
She was glad he had gone off with the guys this afternoon, therefore.
She was afraid that people would start talking about him.
Saying that he had turned queer or something, or that she had an unusual relationship with him. She didn't want any nasty rumors circulating about.
She was also glad that Magdelaina was finally out of the house.
A few days had turned into a few weeks, and then there were all the friends that Magdelaina always had traipsing in and out.
Fortunately for her at that point, however, Laura had had an able maid. Of course the boy couldn't cook too well.
But she'd put her regular maid in the kitchen, so everything worked out fine.
After that, everyday after school, Laura insisted that Roger go out and play.
She even encouraged him to bring his friends home with him again.
She was very anxious for everything to appear quite normal.
"Hello boys," she said one afternoon when the gang trooped in.
They all greeted her respectfully. This time, Roger had made sure that everyone wiped his dirty feet on the doormat outside the door, carefully.
But that wasn't enough for him. Then he made them take off their shoes and socks.
(After all, it was he who waxed the floor, in his maid's uniform. He knew how difficult it was to keep a shine on that beautiful wood!)
He humbly asked Laura's permission to give all the boys drinks.
"Why of course, Roger, don't be silly. Give them all whatever you want. This is your house too, darling," she said ruffling his black hair.
The seventeen year old boy blushed with pleasure.
Laura smiled as she watched all the youngsters drink their sodas.
She was thinking what a fine lot of boys they were.
She wondered, musingly, what, if anything, Roger had told them about her.
She doubted he had revealed any intimate details.
Still she thought, very wisely, you never could be sure.
Young boys will talk, they will brag, she knew quite well.
The kids were all getting rowdy and having a good time.
One of them pulled out a joint and Roger looked around frightened.
"Urn, er, I don't know if you should do that, Freddy," he said.
"My stepmother may not like that." He was very uneasy.
But Laura calmed his nerves by saying, "Oh go right ahead. I don't mind. I smoke that stuff myself you know." The boy passed the joint to her.
And she took a toke on it. The boys were really impressed at that.
They all thought that Roger was real lucky. None of them had a mom like her.
Then they were all getting quite high together in the kitchen.
"This is really excellent stuff, Freddie," said Laura. "Where do you get it?"
Freddie, it turned out, was the high school dealer.
Laura was really very drawn to the boy. He looked older than the rest.
He was tall and had a slim angular face, which she liked.
And there was something in his boyish smile that was really very manly.
It turned out he was older than the others. He was nineteen.
And very handsome. When she took out a cigarette, standing near by him, he suavely took out a lighter and lit it for her. She smiled at him and puffed her cigarette.
She was beginning to think that she might like to get into a scene with Freddie.
And she was beginning to wish that the rest of the boys would leave.
But they didn't, they hung around longer, and finally she got bored.
She excused herself, knowing that Roger would make sure they didn't make a mess.
And then she went down the hall to her own room. Later, she came out and bumped into Freddie going down the dark hall looking for a bathroom.
The handsome nineteen year old man was taller than she was.
She only came up to his chin, even in her high heels.
They stood there together, face to face for a moment, in the dark hall.
"Well, hello there. I was wondering where you had disappeared to. You beautiful lady," the young man calmly said. He really had a way about him.
And Laura had really had enough of stripling young boys.
Although he was only two slim years older than her stepson, those two years seemed to make all the difference in the world between "kid" and "man."
She smiled and said, "You certainly are a fast mover, for a boy your age."
"What makes you think I'm a boy?" he asked, pulling her towards him.
Then suddenly he was kissing her, and he was good. He knew how.
His tongue was doing to her tongue what he wanted to do to her pussy.
And his hands lingered for just a second on her back.
Before coming around to her tits in front, which he squeezed gently.
The lovely red-haired thirty-year-old woman found herself panting!
And she put her hands down to the fly of his pants and felt him.
He was hard! And he had a long one! Yes, indeed! she thought.
When was everyone else going home? She pulled away from his kiss.
"Shame on you," she scolded him tongue in cheek. "Why I'm almost old enough to be your mother." She kept rubbing her fingers against his thick fly.
"Mama!" he said with gusto, and then suddenly he was at her boobs.
He was sucking them lustily, through the thin cotton gauze of her blouse.
"Who told you, you could do that?" she demanded.
If if had been Roger, doing something like that without permission, he would have merited a swift kick in the groin. But this Freddie was different.
She had taken to him right away. "Go away, little boy," she told him.
"Go back and join your playmates. If you want to play with your Mama, you come back here like a big boy sometime alone. Now, git!" she gave him a shove.
"Yes, Ma'am, little lady," he said with a wolfish grin in the dark.
Then he found the bathroom door, and went in where he jerked off.
He couldn't exactly go back to the gang with a bulging hard on.
Freddie knew that Roger went out to play ball every afternoon after school.
And so the very next afternoon, when he knew that Roger would be away, Freddie came over. As if by chance, Laura was wearing a thin, sexy negligee.
It was green and set off her beautiful auburn hair.
She was wearing nothing underneath when she went to answer the door.
"Freddie! Why hello there! What a surprise! Come right in. Roger's not here!"
"I know that, beautiful," Freddie replied with a grin.
He was wearing a pair of greasy tight blue jeans and white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. It accentuated his thick bicep muscles and made him look even more manly.
"I'm afraid I'm not very good at entertaining. Can I offer you a soda?"
She was purposely treating him like a boy. It made him grin.
"You know what I came here for, you hot piece of ass. Wow, what a nightgown!"
He grabbed her from behind and pushed his groin into her buttocks.
"Why Freddie, whatever are you doing?" she asked coyly.
She knew exactly what he was doing however, and she loved it.
She hadn't had a man, a real, dominant man, in a long, long time.
Freddie slapped her ass from behind as she tried to slip away from him.
"Don't you act coy with me you little cunt," he told her.
She whirled around. "What did you call me, boy?" she demanded.
"You heard me," he said coming up and grabbing her wrist.
She tried to give his wrist a whirl around so she could throw him.
But he anticipated her move. Unlike Roger, Freddie was an expert street fighter.
He was a match for Laura, and she knew it immediately.
But she liked that. It was good to have a worthy fighting opponent.
Fighting was like fucking. Very similar, indeed, Laura thought as she succeeded in throwing him to the floor and pouncing on top of him.
She tried to use the same hold on him that she had used on Roger.
Shoving his arms up behind his back, into his shoulder blades until he called for mercy. For a moment she thought she had him, and she smiled.
But in that second, she weakened, and Freddie succeeded in flipping her off his back and rolling over her on the floor so that he was sitting on her ass.
He started twisting her legs, as she lay on the floor.
It was horribly painful, but the resourceful Laura would not give in to pain.
Freddie was laughing now as he raised up her gauzy nightgown to reveal her long pale thighs, as he spread her legs wide apart. He was wearing big black boots.
And he shoved his boots in between her thighs, spreading them open.
Her pussy meat was there before him, hot and open, and spreading wide.
Grinning, he took cord out of his jeans pockets. He twisted around on top of her. and caught her hands together. He tied them together at the wrists.
"Get off of me! How dare you do this! I'm going to call the police."
"Oh no you're not, lady. I know all about you. I know what you do to Roger. He told me all about it. So you're not going to call the police on anybody."
Laura, in astonishment on the floor, did not believe him.
"You're lying! Roger didn't tell you anything! Tell you what?"
She was screaming hysterically as she felt her helplessness increase.
To have her hands tied together behind her back was enough to make her nearly go out of her mind. The lovely dominatrix could not bear to lose the use of her hands.
"Let go of me! " she screamed out loud.
"Lady, you better shut the hell up before I shut you up!"
Freddie, apparently deciding that he'd better shut her up one way or the other, twisted her around underneath him, so that now she was on her back.
With her hands tied underneath her. He sat on her big tits.
Which he pulled out of her negligee and fondled, making the nipples hard.
His cock was big in his pants and he pulled it right out and pointed it directly into her face. Holding onto the base of the thick shaft he said:
"You like to suck cock, Laura? Because that's what you're going to do."
'Help! Roger! Help! Rape!" Laura went on screaming relentlessly.
"I said shut up, cunt, and suck it!" Freddie stuck his prick in her mouth.
He thought he was playing with her. He thought it was part of the kind of fun that his lady would enjoy. But when he saw the tightening of her jaw muscles, he reacted with the reflexes of a panther. He pulled his cock out in a second.
The lady had been about to bite his prick in half!
He grabbed her nipples viciously behind him and said to her:
"Don't you ever try anything like that again. Because if you do, so help me God, I'll twist your fucking nipples right off. I'll twist them off anyway."
So saying he began twisting and squeezing them, watching her squirm.
He took her very quickly from pleasure to pain and then kept on going.
"Ohhhhhhh! Aiiiiiii! Heeeeelp! Heeeeelp! Heeeeelp!" the pained lady screamed.
"Are you ready to suck my cock without biting it?" he demanded.
"Heeeelp!" was all she could scream in reply to him.
"I said are you ready, cunt?" Now he began slapping her face.
He slapped her face from side to side. Finally he thought he had her resigned to accepting her fate. Her head now fell without will from side to side.
"Open your mouth and let me put it in you," he told her.
She opened her mouth. Grinning, thinking he had won, he foolishly put the tip of his hard cock into her lips, but once again she tried to bite him!
"Ha-ha-ha!" she cackled witchily, even though she was in pain.
"All right you cunt, I'll show you," the nineteen year old man panted.
Now he thrust open her mouth and stuffed it with a pillow.
He tied the pillow on her face with some more of the cord.
Then he flipped her over on her stomach again. He lifted up her negligee.
Her pussy meat was still wet and quivering, her beaver looked fine.
But he was thinking, that's probably exactly what she wants.
For me to give her a good fuck in the cunt while she lies there passive for once.
For the truth of the matter was that Roger had indeed told Freddie many of the details of his relationship with Laura. Though it had to be admitted that Freddie had twisted the details out of Roger. So Freddie knew all about her.
He knew what she had done to Roger, knew she had seduced him.
Using curious methods of violence and domination.
Freddie had also understood that the boy, Roger, was still very confused about his feelings for Laura and for the things she had done to him, or made him do.
like getting dressed up as a woman, in a maid's costume.
Freddie had heard all about that too. Freddie, like many young men of nineteen, was fascinated with sex and read all about it he could. Especially magazines.
So he was familiar with fetishists, and the different bizarre varieties of sexual behavior, including submission and mastery. He'd read somewhere that behind every dominant lies a passive or a submissive waiting to come out. Then he'd met Laura.
He thought she was one of the sexiest broads he'd ever met.
And he wanted to screw her. That was when he started worming details out of Roger.
Roger, only to willing to talk to some other man about what was going on, finally told Freddie a great deal. He told it with pride, and with embarrassment.
It all only served to heat up Freddie's blood more and more.
He wanted to take the woman who could do such things so easily to a man.
He wanted to be the one man whom she could not master.
He wanted to be the one man to master her! Yes, and he was going to do it.
"I'm going to fuck your little ass hole until you beg me for mercy, lady. I'm going to do it to you until you actually like it. I'm going to do it to you until you beg me to do it to you some more. And then I'll stop! And then I'll fuck your face! If I have to knock out every one of your teeth first to do it!"
A strange feeling, a sort of glow emanating from her heart, spread through Laura's body when she heard these unfamiliar words! But she twisted around in a fury.
Her mouth was stuffed with the pillow and she could not speak.
And her hands were tied behind her back, and it was infuriating.
She was still determined not to let this upstart of a boy get the better of her!
She was kicking at him and trying to jab him with her high-heeled shoes.
But he grabbed her legs, spread them wide apart, and sat on her thighs, with his knees digging into her thighs. Then he pointed his cock downwards to her ass-hole.
He put some of his saliva on two fingers and spread it over the top of his cock.
Then he rammed his cock down into her ass-hole. It took a few thrusts.
But he got the head good and lodged in the cunt's tight ass.
Then he started pounding it in, as if he were pounding a nail into a piece of hard wood with a thick-headed hammer. Again and again he rammed his cock into her.
She was keeping her ass hole real tight to try to keep him out.
"Listen, cunt, the tighter you keep your ass hole, the harder it's going to be on you. Because I'm going to ram my cock down your ass one way or another. I'm going to ram it down you so hard it's going to come out your throat."
Again, the unaccustomed brutal words uttered to her had a strange effect on her.
Her resolve to resist him doubled again, but she felt a surge of joy go through her.
Yes! This was what she had been wanting! This was what she had been missing with Roger! This joy of combat! This feeling of having a worthy opponent.
Someone who knew the rules of the game, and could stand up to her.
Some man who wasn't a wimp and could beat her at her own game!
It was refreshing! It was invigorating! It was enjoyable!
She tightened her firm pink ass meat even more. And he felt it.
His wet cock felt as if it were being crushed between two firm, fleshy rocks.
It was tight! So tight! And it was hot! So hot! He reached down under her.
And his fingers wormed their way into her cunt, which she also tried to keep tight closed. But with this she had less success because her thighs were spread so wide open. She couldn't close her cunt muscles as well as she could close her ass.
So he got his fingers inside her box and started rubbing up her clit.
This had an electric effect on her. Instantly she started groaning.
And involuntarily she let go of her ass muscles while she enjoyed being finger fucked. At that split moment, he slid his cock deeper into her ass crack.
"Uhhhhhhhh!" she groaned in unbelievable passion!
His thick cock, sliding up her hot wet ass-hole, was really turning her on.
She squeezed his cock with her ass cheeks, but this time it was not the tight kind of squeezing meant to keep his cock out, it was passionate squeezing.
For his fingers in her cunt were making her so hot and wet that she needed something to squeeze her butt hole on. It was wonderful! It was fantastic!
They were really making it, right there on the kitchen floor!
On the white tiled floor that Roger scrubbed everyday in his maid's outfit.
Roger came in in the middle of their lovemaking, but once again, neither one of the fornicating couple ever noticed him. Now they were both sweating.
And all they could hear were their own groans as they fucked together.
Freddie was now rhythmically socking his cock in and out of her ass, while diddling her pussy meat with his thick fingers. And Laura was rocking with him.
As best she could, considering she was tied and bound up.
But each time Freddie pushed his slab of meat down into her ass, she shoved her ass back up against him to get him inside her even further.
And at the same time she was sliding her pussy meat back and forth on his finger.
When Roger first came in the door and saw them fucking, he just stopped in astonishment to watch. The youngster was still so new to sex that the act always fascinated him and he loved to watch. But then, as he watched, Freddie started to get close to coming. He was squeezing Laura's firm buttocks with his hands.
Suddenly he was buggering her ass hole like a man hit by the juice of a thousand volts, his whole body shaking, gone wild, while he shot off his spunk inside her.
Laura too seemed to come at that same moment with him.
Her whole body vibrated. Her big boobs were jiggling. Her face was contorted with exquisite pleasure. And she was screaming.
Through the pillow gag, even, Roger could hear her screams of joy.
That was when Roger went crazy. "Get off her! Get off her, you bastard!"
He started screaming and he threw himself on top of his friend.
Freddie was totally taken by surprise, for he had not heard Roger come in.
The two young men went rolling over and over on top of each other.
While Laura was left there, lying on her stomach, still tied up and bound, also totally taken by surprise. She was surprised that Roger had walked in on her again.
And surprised by his reaction. Thinking it over later, she realized that she should have been pleased by Roger's reaction. The young and innocent boy, seeing her tied up like that, and being raped from behind, in the ass, probably didn't know what was going on. He probably thought that she needed to be rescued.
And if he had come a little while earlier, she would have appreciated his help.
But once Freddie had really totally mastered her, and started fucking her so that it felt real good, she had wanted to let herself be overpowered.
Nothing had felt so good in many, many years to just let herself go completely.
And let someone else, the man on top, take all responsibility for giving her pleasure.
Yes, it had been good, real good. Real thick and hot sex.
Her ass and pussy hole were still throbbing as she watched the two men fighting it out. And Roger was a man now, she realized it. If he was capable of jealousy.
And the desire to protect his woman. But there were other things he could not understand. Such as her relationship with Freddie. For Roger was a natural submissive.
Just like his father. While they fought, Laura worked her gag off.
Then she got to her feet and went down the hall. With her hands behind her back she got out one of her knives, and she managed to cut open the bonds that bound her hands together. Then she got out her bullwhip, coiled up under her bed.
When she reappeared in the kitchen, she was surprised to see that Roger was sitting on top of Freddie's back, pummeling him with his fists and crying.
"All right! Stop that instantly! Both of you!"
Her long black bull whip cracked in the air over their heads!
Both men looked up at her silently, and she could hear them panting.
"Get off him, what do you think you're doing anyway?" she asked irritably.
"Roger," she told him, "you go to your room, I'll deal with you later. And as for you, Freddie," she said to him, waiting until Roger had disappeared, "how dare you beat up on that child? Don't you know he was only trying to protect me?"
Freddie laughed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Me beat up on him, are you kidding? Didn't you see what he was doing to me?"
"Anyway," said Laura more lovingly, "you were sure fine. I like your style. And I like your cock too. You never mind about Roger, you can come back anytime you like." She got down on the floor beside him again and started stroking his wet dick.
There was still a lot of his sticky cum on it and she slid down his body.
Then she was licking and sucking and eating his limp dick.
Licking off his cum and her own pussy slime. He stared down in her in amazement.
What a woman! She was the funkiest woman he had ever met in his life.
He said, "But what about Roger? How do you think he will take it?"
She laughed. "You weren't worried about how he would take it before. When you came over, knowing he would be out." She sucked his dick some more.
It was starting to get hard again in her mouth. He noticed that she had left her coiled whip lying by her side, like a sleeping animal. He reached for it.
Suddenly he had it in his hand. He started stroking her smooth, hard body with the handle, while she made his cock get hard again in her mouth.
"Whip me!" she whispered lasciviously while licking his stick.
"Yes, lady, I will!"
CANING IN AN ENGLISH SCHOOL
PART ONE
Reginald Percy watched as Berenice Norton sashayed down the hall.
She was only sixteen years old, sweet God, he was thinking.
The stuffy headmaster of the school pretended to be thinking of other things as the saucy little sixteen year old went by his office door where he was standing.
"Hello, Mr. Percy," she sang out at him, and her tone was like a slap.
"Oh, hello there, Berenice," he said in an absent-minded tone.
Now she was going on down the hall and he could only see her back.
From the front there had been her adorable little pointy breasts to watch.
Jiggling up and down in her starched white school blouse.
From the rear there was her adorable ass to watch.
Good God, he thought, sweating, as he watched the way her cheeks made the little green plaid school uniform skirt jerk to and fro, dear, dear, dear God.
That God made these lovely little creatures, and spread them around all over the place, all over the place, so that temptation was always in sight.
Such pert cheeks! Such pert tits! And her face! like a nymph's.
A nymphet. He wondered what kind of panties she wore generally.
What he would see if he could get her outside somewhere, during a school picnic for example, get her down on the grass on a blanket. She'd lift up her legs and spread them open voluntarily, giving him that coy look of hers, as if she were daring him.
And for once he would take the dare. He'd look under her skirt.
At her white cotton panties. Then he'd reach up under her skirt.
And pull her panties, slowly, slowly, slowly down.
Until he could see the beginnings of her beaver. . .her soft beaver hair....
"Mr. Percy? Mr. Percy!" Miss Rathbone's voice cut through his reverie.
He let his hands fall and hang in front of his crotch, and pulled his jacket down harder over the same area. Then he answered her over his shoulder.
Well, he couldn't exactly turn around. Not with the boner he had in his pants.
"Mr. Percy, the homeroom reports are in again. Do you want to go over them with me?" Miss Rathbone came up behind him and stared at him strangely.
"Oh, uh, yes, quite, Miss Percy, I'll be right there."
The assistant headmistress looked at his back again, and shrugged.
She went over to her chair beside his desk and started going through the reports.
She was wondering what was wrong with him. He had been acting so strangely lately.
In fact, she was wondering if she had grounds to report him yet.
He was neglecting nearly all of his duties.
She was doing all the work.
Nobody in the school knew it but her, but she was keeping this school on its feet.
"Yes, Miss Rathbone, now where are we?" Mr. Percy went into his office.
Quickly he sat down behind his desk and tried to turn his attention to the reports.
It had been Miss Rathbone's idea-she was just full of ideas-to get reports on the conduct of the pupils from the homeroom teachers.
Part of the general campaign to crack down on student disobedience.
Discipline was being emphasized by the Ministry of Education this year.
And Miss Rathbone was a hundred per cent behind such a move.
Known as a strict disciplinarian, she thought Mr. Percy was very lax in his administration of the students and the school. She disapproved of him, highly.
She went over the reports, reading them aloud to him.
She could tell he wasn't listening to a word she said.
"And now Miss Thimble's report. She has several tardy students this week. And Berenice Norton hasn't reported to home room at all this week, though she shows up at other classes. Mr. Percy? Mr. Percy!" Again he wasn't listening.
"What's that, Miss Rathbone? About Berenice Norton?"
"Mr. Rathbone, are you feeling quite well? Would you like to lie down for a while?"
"No, no, Miss Rathbone, I'm quite all right. It's just this pollen in the air you know. My allergy. Do go on. About Berenice?" he said.
"You should go to an allergist," Miss Rathbone recommended.
Then she went on, "Berenice Norton does not go to her homeroom class anymore. She seems to come and go to classes at her own whim."
Miss Rathbone pursed her prunish lips and waited.
It was his responsibility after all to take disciplinary measures.
"Well, it is the spring time after all, Miss Rathbone," he said, but then sensing that that was not the right answer he said, "Well, what would you do about the young girl, Miss Rathbone? What do you suggest?" He looked the assistant headmistress up and down. She was not an unattractive woman. It was just the way she dressed, he thought.
Always wearing those hideous pin-striped straight skirts and jackets.
Always with her dark hair pulled straight back into an ugly bun.
Never a hair out of place. And those ugly horn-rimmed glasses.
And those white buttoned-down blouses, that were always buttoned clear up to the neck. In this heat too. Mr. Rathbone himself had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt underneath his tie, which Miss Rathbone had noticed disapprovingly.
"I would recommend a good caning for the girl," she said simply.
"If she can be found on the premises," she added with sarcasm.
Mr. Percy licked his dry lips. A caning? Here, in his office?
He said, "She was just walking down the hall a moment ago. I wondered where she was going." He swallowed uneasily. And felt his lump of stiffness in his pants.
Miss Rathbone was consulting the girl's schedule and she said:
"She should be in Algebra next period, and the Home Education. I will send out messages to her teachers. Whenever she turns up she will be sent here to this office."
Efficiently, quickly, without fuss or muss, Miss Rathbone made out the slips of paper and called in a monitor to take them to the classes.
Then they continued going over the morning reports.
But Mr. Percy's mind was far away. Miss
Rathbone glanced at him several times.
Just one word would do it, to her friend, in the Ministry of Education.
Then this school could be hers. She would know how to run it.
Mr. Percy was a tallish man, clean-shaven, with a thinning, receding hairline, and full red lips. He usually wore brown suits and yellow shirts.
Also extremely inappropriate, Miss Rathbone frowned.
How did he expect to instill discipline in his students if he presented such a ... she searched for the proper word in her neat mind. . modish appearance?
Just then there came a timid rapping at the door to his office.
"Yes? Come in," Miss Rathbone took it upon herself to say.
The door opened and Berenice herself stepped in, looking not at all timid or afraid. She was chewing gum, flaunting another of the school rules, quite openly.
Miss Rathbone looked at Mr. Percy expectantly as if to say, "Well?"
"Yes, ahem, come in Berenice," Mr. Percy stuttered.
"I am in," the girl said impudently. She had long brown braids.
And a saddle of red freckles over her pert little nose.
Her arms, sticking out of the little white blouse, were very white.
Mr. Rathbone found himself staring at the lower part of her white thighs, which showed below her uniform. Her skirt wasn't supposed to be that short.
"Yes, ahem, Berenice, Miss Rathbone and I have called you in here to talk about your recent behavior more specifically, your absence from homeroom. What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked very humanely. He believed in "talking problems out with the students." He was a liberal. Miss Rathbone sniffed.
"I got nothing to say. Except that I hate that old mouse, Miss Thimble. She is so boring and she's got B.O. Why should I sit in that class. We don't do nothing anyway in there, except sit around and pass notes from the boys to the girls."
Miss Rathbone's heart was beating with ire at the girl's impudence, her lack of good grammar, her whole attitude. She waited for Mr. Percy to take action.
"Ahem, I see. Ahem. Miss Rathbone, what do you think?"
Reginald's hands were trembling underneath the desk. He knew he was behaving like a wimp, making a fool of himself in front of the assistant headmistress.
He knew he should take action, at least take charge.
But he could barely keep himself from staring at the pert little points sticking out of her white blouse-her two taut little nipples. Were they hard?
Miss Rathbone turned without hesitation to the girl.
"Miss Norton, your behavior is reprehensible. You must not talk about your elders in that tone of voice. And, I remind you that chewing gum in this school is prohibited. Kindly deposit your gum in the wastebasket. And be sure to wrap it in a piece of paper first." She watched as the girl shrugged and took her gum out of her mouth.
She sauntered over to the waste basket, and Reginald's eyes were glued to her pert ass movements. Again he was brought back to reality by Miss Rathbone's voice.
"Mr. Percy, I recommend a caning," she was saying icily.
"Yes, yes of course, Miss Rathbone. Please, proceed," he said.
She was a bit surprised,' but not really, considering the circumstances.
Of course, by rights, he should have administered the caning.
But it was not uncommon for one authority to relegate the caning to another authority, and considering, the first authority was Mr. Percy himself....
Miss Rathbone stood up and went to the long wooden cane-a regular walking cane-that hung on a nail on the wall. She took it down and tested its weight.
She couldn't remember the last time it had been used. Not in her sight.
She swung the hardwood cane through the air several times, listening to it sing.
Berenice was standing by the wastebasket, near Reginald, staring at the cane, with her mouth open. He could see her big white teeth. She was really surprised.
The whole school knew Mr. Percy's reputation for being easy.
Berenice had come to his office never expecting to get caned!
And now this! She looked at the office door, as if considering making a run for it. But it was Mr. Percy himself who now went to that door and stood in front of it and locked it. He put the key in his pocket, and said to the girl:
"You're not going anywhere, my girl, you're going to stay and take your punishment."
Quickly he went back behind his desk and sat down to watch.
Miss Rathbone almost smiled at him gratefully for backing her up.
"Hands on the desk, Missie, bend over," Miss Rathbone said.
Berenice was looking wild-eyed from Miss Rathbone to Mr. Percy.
"Hurry up and get it over with, it will hurt less that way."
Berenice walked over to the edge of Reginald's desk and gripped it with her fingers.
She was bending over, and he could see how her short little green plaid skirt rose up the back of her thighs, clearly outlining her buttocks.
"Now then," said Miss Rathbone, and then all that could be heard was the singing whining sound of the cane flying through the air, and the satisfying cracking sound of the cane falling against the poor girl's thighs resoundingly.
Miss Rathbone was concentrating on the girl's thighs, making them nice and red with each additional stroke. The end of the cane was leaving marks!
Nice, thick, red marks against the girl's soft white thighs.
"Take that for whining about it!" Miss Rathbone cried out.
She renewed herself with a feverish pitch, smashing down blows on the girl's legs. Now
Berenice's thighs were quite red all over. To try to relieve herself of some of the pain, to try to insure that the cane didn't keep falling again and again on the same tortured flesh, the girl tried to turn her legs out.
She spread them wide apart as she gripped the desk.
Reginald saw that her knuckles had turned ghostly white.
"Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!" the cane smacked against her young flesh.
Behind his desk, Reginald was feeling his growing hard-on!
He was rubbing it through his pants, and his eyes were glittering.
The girl's legs were spread wide apart now, he could see the shadow of her skirt as it fell tantalizingly across her upper thigh-sliding who knew what delicious secrets?
He was rubbing his cock through his pants, rubbing the delicious bulging throbbing shaft, feeling how the head of his penis was quivering like the nose of a dog that smells fresh meat nearby! And he was watching Miss Rathbone's growing excitement.
Two spots of color had come up on her cheeks and her eyes were glittering too. ' And, he also noticed that her jacket had fallen open.
And that two big erect points were jabbing out of her white blouse!
"Do you think that's enough, Mr. Percy?" she called to him.
He was panting as he pumped his wad into his boxer shorts.
"Y-yes! Yes! I think so, Miss Rathbone!" he gasped out.
"Twack! Twack! Thwack!" Miss Rathbone administered three more for good measure.
Then she let her tired, pulsing arm drop to her side!
The poor girl remained where she was however, bending over.
Gripping the side of the desk as if she couldn't stand up.
She was crying, and her face had become red and blotchy-like her thighs!
"In my day, we didn't whine and we didn't cry, now stand up, Miss Norton, and leave the room. And remember that you can count on more of the same if you continue to go on acting in this totally wild manner. Good day!" Miss Rathbone said.
The girl finally stood up. Big hot tears were dripping down her face.
She looked from one to the other of them with hatred.
Then, sucking her big red underlip in pain, she turned and fled the room.
Reginald was feeling the warm, wet spot in his pants as he watched her reddened thighs disappear around the corner, her green plaid skirt switching above them.
"Well done, Miss Rathbone, I congratulate you," Reginald told her.
"Sit down, sit down," he added, "you must be all done in."
Her face was flushed and she was in fact quite out of breath.
As she sat down she pushed a few wisps of her hair that had come undone out of her face. Her pussy twitched as she crossed her legs primly.
Images of the girl's reddened thighs and those resounding thwacks kept crossing her mind. She smiled at her boss proudly, and lay the cane across her knees.
"You know something Miss Rathbone," Mr. Percy began with unusual enthusiasm for him, "I'm beginning to reconsider. You know all my adult life I've been something of a liberal I guess you could say. You know what I mean. I've been against corporal punishment, for the more psychological approach. But what I just saw has been really enlightening! A thousand thoughts are running through my mind."
"Well, really, Mr. Percy! I'm glad to see that," she said.
"Yes, yes, you know I never saw the effects of a caning before, in my adult life that is. I only remembered what it was like to be caned myself as a student."
Here he stopped suddenly and blushed. She looked up at him.
"Really? Were you a naughty student in your day, Mr. Percy?"
He said, "Well in my day, you know corporal punishment wasn't an issue. It was just a fact. And, yes, well, I must admit it, I pulled a stunt or two in my student days. But teachers in those days didn't fool around either. When they gave you a caning, well, they gave you a caning. Rather like the one you just administered, I must say, Miss Rathbone." He smiled at her. He was feeling quite happy.
Even talkative. He asked her now, "Didn't you ever receive a caning yourself once or twice when you were a girl, Miss Rathbone?"
It was hard to conceive of her as ever having been a girl.
But he was quite sure she had been one once. Maybe even like Berenice.
He licked his lips and looked at her and now she was blushing.
"Well, just maybe once. Or twice, Mr. Percy," she admitted.
"Tell me about it, Miss Rathbone," he urged her with great interest.
"There's nothing to tell," she demurred prettily with a smile.
His interest quickened even more. He knew she could be pretty!
All it took was a smile. And with a little color in her face. . .
And her breasts heaving, as they still were, with the unaccustomed exertion....
And the wisps of hair hanging around her face. He leaned forward.
"Come, come, you don't have to be shy with me. I order you to tell me. It's part of my study on the subject now. I'm reconsidering my whole attitude toward caning."
"Well, if you put it that way, Mr. Rathbone," the flushed assistant headmistress said. And then she proceeded to tell him the whole interesting story.
About how once she had been caught kissing behind the cloak room door.
"Really, Miss Rathbone! You? Kissing!" He chuckled.
He imagined her as a pert little Berenice, with some husky guy backing her up against a wall. His mind went on with this image as she talked.
She however, was recalling in her mind what had happened to.
She wasn't caught kissing a boy at all. It had been a girl.
But of course, she didn't mention that.
Educators had been fired for less in her time. "Yes," she went on, "I was once young too, Mr. Percy."
And she told him simply how the headmistress of her school had caught her.
And taken her into her office. "It was just as it was with Berenice today, Mr. Percy. She gave me a sound beating and that's all it took me. Just one. Because basically I was a good girl at heart, Mr. Percy. She beat sense into me, she did, good old Miss Thorn whip." She smiled at the recollection. That was all she was going to tell him.
The lesson she had learned however, was not exactly what she led Mr. Percy to believe. The lesson she had learned was that she enjoyed being caned.
Enjoyed it very much. Especially if it came from the hand of the exciting, erotic, older woman. And she'd also learned that Miss Thornwhip enjoyed it a great deal too.
She lied a bit when she implied that that was the only time she was ever caned.
She and Miss Thornwhip got to the point where they had regular sessions together.
And Miss Thornwhip had seduced the young Regina Rathbone.
Miss Rathbone recalled now, with a more urgent twitching of her vagina, the first time that Miss Thornwhip had insisted on pulling down the young Regina's panties, and caning, her directly on her naked ass. And what happened after that!
Suddenly Regina Rathbone had felt Miss Thornwhip's face between her thighs!
The young girl was confused, but also terribly excited!
Then she felt the older woman licking her-licking her reddened thighs and her ass. The young Miss Rathbone had opened up her thighs without any urging.
Just as Berenice had done this same day! And Miss Thornwhip had licked her out there too! Down there, in between her thighs, where it was wet and twitching now!
She could still recall the first sensation of Miss Thornwhip's hungry tongue digging into her wet beaver meat, and then Miss Thornwhip's fingers had pried young Miss Rathbone's pussy meat open, and snuffled in the hot wet flesh.
"And that's really all there was to it, Mr. Percy. But, as I tell you, I found it to be a very effective punishment, and I've always believed in it. But how about yourself, Mr. Percy. You say you were caned as a student. How did that happen?"
She squeezed her thighs together and tried to turn his attention off her.
He smiled and put his hands together on top of the desk.
"Well, it was really quite simple also, Miss Rathbone. I was caught out cheating on an exam. We had a lovely teacher, a very lovely woman, Miss Rogers her name was. But she was always a bit of a nervous woman. She had a bad marriage at home I believe. Anyway, she caught me out at cheating, and she made me stay after school. And it proceeded along much the same lines as you've described. She made me bend over, and take it on my behind, however. It was. . .quite effective as you say. I was quite repentant, especially as I realized that it was more difficult for dear Miss Rogers to cane me than it was for me to take it. She was basically a gentle woman."
He did not relate how he had an erection, a giant one, in his pants while the lovely teacher was warming his derriere with a stick. Nor how Miss Rogers cried when she hit him. Now how he turned around and stood up and told her it was all right-that it hadn't hurt. Nor how she had broken down and told him how her husband beat her at home, and it upset her to hit anyone else. But he had deserved it.
Nor how Miss Rogers had taken out his cock and fondled it.
The memory now of that time-the first time that a woman had touched his erect cock-made his dick stiffen slightly in his pants again.
"Yes, I really will have to think about this experience today more, Miss Rathbone. I'm beginning to understand the advantages of using the cane as a disciplinary measure. Truly I am," he added.
PART TWO
"He had her cane me!" Berenice blubbered. "He had her cane me!"
She was alone in the girl's room, talking to her own image in the mirror.
Tears of shame and humilation were still running down her hot cheeks.
She just couldn't believe it. Everyone in the whole school knew what a soft touch Mr. Percy was. There hadn't been a caning in the school for years!
Why had he chosen to make an example of her this way? Why?
Soon, she knew, it would be all over the school, like wildfire.
And there was no way she could hide the evidence of her red thighs.
Now she began to regret the fact that she had shortened her skirt, going against school regulations. But she had always been a rebel, always flaunted rules.
"You'll get in trouble," her girlfriend Betty had warned her when she visited Berenice one day after school and found Berenice shortening the hem of her skirt.
"Oh so what, what will they do to me? Send me home? That's fine with me."
Berenice found school terribly boring and would be happy to be sent home.
But getting a caning, that was a different thing altogether.
And now her shortened skirt wouldn't cover her reddened thighs.
She had run right into the girl's room from Mr. Percy's office.
To have a good cry. What a fucker he was! What a bastard!
He had enjoyed watching her being beaten by that bitch Rathbone.
She knew he had enjoyed it. She'd seen the
T hungry, savoring expression on his face.
And seen the way his hands had disappeared under his desk.
Probably playing with himself under the desk, the old coot, she thought.
She dried her eyes with a paper towel and surveyed the damage to her face.
Make-up was against the school regulations too, but she wasn't going back out there looking the way she did now. She opened up her bag and took out her powder and her compact. She started powdering her nose while she was thinking.
She knew the way Mr. Percy looked at her when she walked by.
It was as if she could almost feel his eyes following every twitch of her ass.
Her mother would say, "You invite it, by wearing your skirts so short."
But Berenice saw it differently. Why should those old dried-up bastards pretend they didn't think about such things when it was so obvious they did?
Why shouldn't a young girl show off her legs? While she's young and they're still good-looking? What was she supposed to do? Keep them under lock and key?
Until she got to be old ugly Miss Rathbone's age?
When no one would want to look at them anymore anyway?
It didn't make any sense. It wasn't fair! Grown-ups were such hypocrites.
They were always telling you to do one thing, and then doing something else themselves. And then acting all right and proper. Grownups made her sick.
Now her nose was powdered and she looked a little better.
But some of her mascara had run. She got out her red tube.
And applied more thick black mascara to her already laden eyelashes.
When she was through, she looked at herself, satisfied, in the mirror.
She put her mascara away and then tentatively, looking over her shoulder, applied one gentle hand to her reddened thighs. She winced with pain.
They were still so tender! Miss Rathbone had really laid it on.
The heat from her reddened thighs seemed to communicate itself to the palm of her hands. She wanted to cool off her thighs. She ran her hands under the cold water.
And then patted her cold wet hands on the backs of her thighs.
Under her buttocks. She pushed her skirt up slightly to reach the upper part of her thighs. When she had been bending over, of course, her skirt had hiked up.
So that Miss Rathbone had been able to cane quite a good deal of her thighs.
Finally, Berenice's hands were clutching her pert little buttocks.
The cool wetness of her hands felt good on her ass cheeks too.
She slipped her hands down under her panties, which were, indeed, by the way, white cotton, as Mr. Percy had imagined. Yes, that felt good, she sighed.
It was as if her cold, wet hands were putting out a sizzling fire.
Except, then, something funny happened. She felt a twitching in her pussy.
like the way it happened when she thought about that handsome blonde American movie star in the movies. She always imagined him, thought about him; somehow it always reminded her of Daddy. She knew that the man was absolutely in the right. That made it even better. She loved being treated like the naughty slut.
"Oh, Daddy, you're hurting me!! Stop it, Daddy! Stop it!! " she yelled out. She knew that it would probably have the opposite effect, that it would only make her father hit her the harder. He was that kind of man. When he felt that his designated powers were being questioned, he asserted himself twice as hard.
Howard Lovecraft increased his paddling of Mike, or one of the other guys kiss her or feel her up a little bit.
It was funny the way it was. She just couldn't get that same little twitch of excitement out of her pussy if she just thought about how Mike or Steve was kissing her.
No, she had to quickly substitute that movie actor's face and lips, bearing down on her, and imagine it was his big hands that were going over her body.
Well, it was like that nowhere little pussy was twitching, as she clutched her hot thighs and ass cheeks in the bathroom after the caning.
She looked at her watch. It was eleven thirty. Mid-period.
Nobody would be roaming the halls until the next period at noon.
Well, why not. No one would come in here. She let her fingers slide down to the crack in her ass. Gently she rubbed up and down. Then she let her fingers slide down to her fuzzy little muff. Her labia, like fat twin grapes, twitched, as she passed her fingers lightly over them. Last night, she had let Mike get that far.
Her pussy twitched dramatically now as she recalled the sensation of his big male fingers lightly running over the pink lips she was now touching.
Her pink lips spread right open with cunt wetness juicing out.
"Ohhhh," she put both hands to her cunt from the front now.
And let her fingers slide up and down the pink wet crack.
It felt so good. It took her mind completely off the burning of her thighs.
She found herself thinking about Mr. Percy for once, instead of her favorite movie actor. She laughed snidely into the mirror now as she thought of him.
She wished he could see her now, wished he could see what she was doing now.
She knew he lusted after her. And she would like to let him watch her finger herself as she was doing now. She'd like to flaunt her pussy in his face.
How long had it been since an old guy like that (forty was old to her) had seen a young girl's box? She'd like to tease him, do a strip-tease.
Get him all hot and excited and bothered. See him getting hard in his pants.
She was urging her finger deeper and deeper into her wet twat.
Now she was rubbing up and back, up and back, along her throbbing clit.
It felt so good. She raised one leg. And put it up against the sink.
Her cunt was really juicing, really juicing now. Oh yes.
She'd like to see that old lech get really hard and hot from wanting her.
And then what would she do? Then suddenly, the blonde movie star entered the scene of her fantasies. And, while Mr. Percy watched, they turned their backs on him.
"Here let me do that to you, darling," her movie actor said to her.
Gently he took her fingers from her wet pussy and put them to his mouth.
He licked off her cunt juice from her fingers one by one.
Then he replaced her own, slim fingers with his big thick ones.
And now it was he, yes, her hero, who rubbing the juices in the flowing funnel of her pussy hole. It felt so good. So fucking good. She took his dick out of his pants, just the way she did with Mike and Steve. And she rubbed it and she touched it.
Then he put the head of his throbbing big dick to her love hole and he plunged in....
"Ring!! ! Rrrrring!" The twelve o'clock bell rang loudly.
All over the school, the sounds of doors opening filled the halls.
It sounded like a herd of elephants had broken loose as students joyfully filled the halls. Berenice barely had time to pull her fingers from her box and pull her panties back on before several girls rushed into the girl's room.
"Berenice! What happened? Where were you?" Sheila asked.
"Did he give you a lecture? How come you never came back?"
"I heard you got a caning! Look at her thighs! It's true!" said Betty.
The girls crowded around Berenice, and she had to tell them.
She rinsed off her fingers in the sink and said, yes, it was true.
"Who told you?" she asked Betty. "Who told you that I got caned."
"Jay Smith. He was going back Mr. Percy's office and he heard you screaming out."
"I can't believe that bastard. I didn't think he had it in him," Sheila said.
Berenice said dully, "It wasn't him. It was Miss Rathbone. She did it."
"With Mr. Percy looking on?" the girls asked excitedly.
The information tittilated them, and made them giggle and twitter like birds.
"It's no big fucking deal," said Berenice irritated.
"That's true, I have friends in some schools where they give canings all the time," contributed Betty. Anyway, it made for a great topic of conversation.
The whole school was talking about it all afternoon.
And Berenice became quite the center of attention, which she loved.
She had to show her reddened thighs time and time again, to the girls.
And then of course the guys wanted to see them too.
After school, down by the locker room, a group of them, including Mike and Steve, came by and demanded that they get a showing too. It was arranged, with much giggling, by the girls, who stood out in the hall to make sure that no one came by.
"All right, but only one look, that's all," Berenice said.
She turned around in the darkened corner of the locker room.
And she bent over and raised up her skirt high. Up to her panties.
Her thighs were still burning and she had red welt marks.
"Jees. She really did lay it on you. Did it hurt?"
"Did you cry? Wow, I didn't know they'd do that to a girl."
"I'd like to see that old bag of bones try something like that on me."
"I'd sock her in the nose. And that old fart too, Mr. Percy."
"I'd like to sock her in the nose for what she did to Berenice."
That last remark came from Steve, and it made Berenice smile.
"It didn't hurt so much," said Berenice bravely as she continued to show off her reddened and pink thighs. She had that crazy tingling in her pussy again.
And the whole thing was really turning her on. "All right, that's enough," she said.
She let her skirts drop. But several boys walked her all the way home from school that day-to protect her-and to get more details of the story.
And they were all quite titillated. One by one, however, they dropped out of the crowd walking her home, to search out their own fantasies alone.
By the time they got to Berenice's gate, only Mike and Steve were still with her.
And Betty had come along too, since she lived next door.
Betty had a thing for Mike. But she was shy. Berenice was not shy.
"Boy will my mom be mad when she sees this," Berenice said ruefully.
She looked over her back at her reddened thighs.
Betty was saying to Mike, "You're coming to the picnic tomorrow, aren't you?"
Betty had pretty blonde curly hair and a sweet, heart-shaped face.
There was something so innocent and wholesome about her look that maybe that was why no boy ever dared trying to get away with anything with her.
But she wanted them to try-she wanted it desperately!
"Oh, yeah, the picnic tomorrow. I almost forgot!" Mike said.
May I was a traditional school holiday, celebrated with a school picnic.
"I can't wait!" Berenice said. Any day off from school was good to her.
Steve was waiting around impatiently, hoping that Mike would leave so he could kiss Berenice up a little bit. He wished Mike would stop horning in on Berenice.
Steve considered her his girlfriend, sort of, though she refused to go steady with him. Berenice always insisted she was going to be a liberated woman.
"Berenice! Come inside! You have to do your chores!"
Berenice's sister stuck her head out the window and called her.
"Bye guys. See you tomorrow at the picnic!" Berenice called out cheerfully.
Then she skipped up the front walk to her house, her red thighs twitching back and forth, her green skirt swinging, leaving both guys looking after her ruefully.
"Well, I guess I'll be going too. See you tomorrow," Mike said.
Only Betty and Steve were left. "Why don't you walk me home, Steve. I only live over there." Betty pointed across the street. He was feeling depressed.
He saw how possessive Mike had been getting over Berenice lately.
And he felt he really didn't have a chance with her. So, crossing the alley between two house, he pulled Betty in there beside him. He was surprised when she didn't scream or cry out. She was even smiling when he pushed her up against the wall.
She responded to his kisses deliciously. Her red lips were soft and full.
And she didn't even protest when his big hands touched her breasts.
Through her white school blouse. All she said to him was:
"Oh, Steve! Be gentle!" with a whimpering little cry. .
He smiled, his eyes half-closed, already half way to heaven as he replied.
"I will," he said feeling her sweet full tits over and over again and pressing his hard on up against her thighs. They necked in the alley for a long time.
Meanwhile that night, Reginald went home to his bachelor flat and thought about Berenice. He thought about her lustingly all night long.
Through a whole bottle of gin and many hot wet fantasies.
He jerked off several times, more times than he thought he still could in one night. He surprised even himself. But the thought of her made him feel young and lusty.
How he would like to get into that young nymphet's panties.
How he would like to eat out her cunt. Make her writhe.
Make her love it. Make her beg him for more and more.
Hear her tell him that he was the best lover in the world.
Feel her arms around him as he urged his dick into her pussy hole.
And then plunge it into her, up to the hilt, and hear her soft whimper!
How he would like to be the masterful man on top of her!
Mastering her, paddling her ass when she was naughty and sticking his cock in her when she was good. Between the paddle and the cock he would totally dominate her.
He thought about how good it would be, how much fun, to have private little discipline sessions with her. Where he would take her over his knee, get her ass naked, and paddle her smooth, pert behind, feeling it in between each slap.
While his cock got hard beneath her pert titties.
Then she would slide down between his legs and take his prick in her mouth.
Ohhhh, God, that would be heaven! He could almost feel her lips rimming his tool as he jerked off, hear her little groans of delight! Heaven!
But when he woke up in the morning, he was very depressed.
It was a beautiful day, a beautiful May morning. The sky was blue.
Birds were singing in the lindenberry bushes outside his building.
He remembered with a start that today was the school picnic.
But God! What a dreadful hangover he had. Then he saw the empty gin bottle.
Good God, had he really gone through the whole thing himself?
He made himself a bloody mary and broke a raw egg into it.
He gulped it down and felt a little better. Then he had several cups of coffee.
Yes, today was the picnic. Reginald Perry, school headmaster, had to appear to be his usual self, upright, proper, the authority figure.
Then he recalled Berenice! And the caning of the day before!
What an incredible night of erotic fantasies that had stimulated.
But that was what was depressing him now. It was all just fantasy of course.
He would never have that little twat Berenice to himself, he felt sure.
Never, never! It was all just an aging middle aged man's fantasy.
That would never come true! Except in his wet dreams! Never!
It was so unfair! He jerked off twice in the john and in his bedroom before getting dressed and leaving the house in his car. He didn't see her until later in the day at the picnic grounds. But then he had many details of the picnic to oversee.
Miss Rathbone, meanwhile, also went home the night before to a head full of stimulating erotic thoughts. She was feeling very light-headed and happy.
She was thinking that perhaps Mr. Percy wasn't such a bad egg after all.
If he could come to view caning in the same light that she did, they would get along much better. It was important for educators to be of the same mind when it came to discipline. And she also felt . . .lightened in some way.
As if the caning of the day had relieved her of a burden.
It was good to hit the flesh of a truant girl until you made it sing and sting.
Good for the girl, and good for the headmistress, Miss Rathbone thought.
Now she could understand how her own headmistress, Miss Thornwhip had felt.
At home that night, Miss Rathbone stimulated herself with a beautiful old jade dildo that one of her maiden sisters had brought back for her from the Orient.
Her sister had lived in the Orient many years, working in a leper colony.
Miss Rathbone inserted the tip of the beautiful, penis-shaped object d'art into her cunt and tickled her love button. Her pink pussy lips spread open wide.
Sitting home alone now, she let down her hair. She was naked.
If the truth be told, Miss Rathbone had a magnificent body.
She was only thirty-five, and her breasts were still firm and ripe.
Her hair was beautiful, shiny and brown and hung in wisps to her shoulders.
She shook it out and back, smiling, and moving the dildo in her twat.
She spread her long, cool wide white thighs open as she sat on the discipline seat.
She and her sister had passed many a frolicsome hour on this seat.
But now her sister was gone. She had passed on, poor dear.
But Miss Rathbone imagined that her sister had gone to heaven, where she was still frolicking on the discipline seat of the good Lord.
Miss Rathbone masturbated herself wetly into seventh heaven, thinking alternately of her sister's thick bush when they had been young girls, and thinking of the choice wet meat that must lie beneath the youthful panties of that young girl student, Berenice Norton, the girl she had caned that very day at school.
She woke up in the morning feeling happy and refreshed, thinking that life couldn't be all that bad, if she could get up and look forward to a caning every day at school.
PART THREE
Berenice Norton was caught lifting up her skirts to her panties and showing off to the boys her reddened thighs, in the bushes at the picnic.
Her infuriated teacher dragged her immediately to Mr. Percy.
She explained in a high hysterical voice what she had caught the young girl doing.
"It's all right, Miss Thimble, leave her here with me, I'll take care of her."
Mr. Percy managed to sound manly and authoritative.
Miss Rathbone was nowhere to be found, but he decided to try and handle this himself.
"Come with me, young lady," he told her sternly, leading her off the playing fields where the picnic was being held into his office in the old gothic structure.
"I won't go in there with you," the belligerent girl resisted.
"Oh yes you will, Missy," he dragged her by the arm.
She was kicking and screaming, but he managed to get her into his office.
The entire school building was deserted, so her cries went unheard.
"You have no right to do this! You have no right to do this to me!"
He laughed. "And just what am I doing to you, Berenice. I haven't laid a hand on you yet." He locked his office door, and turned to her.
She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest.
"I know what you want to do to me! Don't think I don't know!"
"What do you think I want to do to you?" he asked with a leering smile.
"You know! I don't have to say it!" the adolescent girl shouted.
Reginald Percy felt terribly calm and in control as he went for the cane.
"I am merely going to give you what you have coming to you, young lady. Evidently Miss Rathbone's work did not convince you yesterday of the need to change your ways. Now grip the table and bend over, and remember that I am entirely within my rights as the headmaster of this school to give you a caning. And if you do not submit to me, your parents will hear of this. Not only of what you did yesterday, but of what you were caught doing today! Grip the table and bend over!"
His voice was icy with authority. And he was feeling fine and strong.
Berenice feared her father's hand more than she feared Mr. Percy's.
She knew her father would practically kill her if he found out she was lifting up her skirts to the boys. She had no way out. She had to give in.
"All right, but I'll get you for this," she grumbled under her breath.
"What was that, Berenice? Don't speak to yourself that way. It's extremely rude."
"Twack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!" He let the cane fall several times.
It fell on the exact same part of her thighs that Miss Rathbone had treated the day before.
So it was double painful for the poor unfortunate girl.
"Not there! Don't hit me in the same place! It's still raw!"
"Lift up your skirt, Berenice," Reginald said in an eager voice.
Berenice did it because, little slut that she was, she knew she had a power over this man. She thought that by giving him a little eyeful of her ass, she would get a lighter sentence from him. Some young girls already know all the wiles of their sex.
And Berenice Was one of these. She held her little green plaid skirt high up over her buttocks. And he began to let the cane fall on the nice, taut full curves of her behind, neatly encased in her little pink cotton panties.
"Ow! Ow! OW!" the poor girl began to cry with pain.
She had bargained herself into an even worse position.
For the bitter cane, falling on her soft round ass cheeks, was painful.
"Pull down your panties, now Berenice, and let me see what it looks like."
Reginald, standing behind her, stroking a hard-on, was beside himself.
He was like a maniac who is no longer in control of his actions.
He felt the power flowing in the room, and it was flowing in his favor.
As if like a robot, she did as he said. Whimpering and crying.
She took down her panties. A kind of pride, a shame, a fear, and a pleasure, pulsed through her whole body, as she exposed her nude and red ass to the headmaster.
He looked at the red flesh hungrily, and at her pink panties lying around her ankles.
Brutishly, he applied the cane to her ass again, stroke after stroke.
"Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!" the cane fell smartly on her pert flesh.
She spread her legs wide apart, as if to take the burning pain better.
Again and again he beat her hot ass, looking at the fuzz of her soft brown pussy hair that was hanging down between her legs. He had his joint out in his hand now.
It was big and thick and hard. And he was rubbing it up and down.
And still the girl hadn't seen it! Hadn't seen what he was doing!
He was rubbing the head of his cock, making his shaft shiver!
Her pussy was wet and hot, he could see her cunt lips open!
Now was the time! He dropped the cane and went over to her!
She stiffened as she felt him come up behind him. But it was too late.
It all happened so quickly! He grabbed her from behind.
Put the head of his dick to her open pussy hole and shoved it in!
She stiffened and cried out, as again and again he plunged it in.
He was forcing his cock into her open cunt hole, shoving it up her.
Breaking through her cherry web, with thrust after deep painful piercing thrust.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" she cried out just as she had when being caned!
But now he was shoving his cock up her hot cunt, disciplining her with the thick shaft of his tool! This would teach the little cunt to twitch her behind!
This would teach her to stick her little titties out so prettily!
She gripped the desk and her knuckles turned white!
She was spreading her legs wide open to take his cock in her beaver!
It hurt so much, and it felt so good. Her hole was so wet!
His cock was so thick! And so hard! like a ramrod poked up her.
She was pressing her cunt down against his thick pole which each thrust he shoved up her. Together they moved apart and came together, against the desk in his office!
Suddenly she started screaming. "OHHHH! OHHHH! OHHHH! OHHH!"
Her whole little body was shaking and her little titties were jiggling.
"Uhhhhh! Uhhhh! Uhhhh! Uhhhh!" he groaned as he shot out his hot wads of cum deep inside her newly pierced virgin little box. She was so fucking tight.
And hot and wet. He filled her with his prick cream several times.
"Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh Oooooooh!! " she was moaning now.
As their furious jerking and thrusting subsided and she just continued to squeeze his pole with her pulsating pussy meat. Together they squeezed and felt each other.
Deep inside her hot throbbing cunt. His pole felt huge inside her.
It filled her all the way up. When he pulled out, he felt triumphant.
It had happened. It had actually happened. Better even than in his dreams.
He had fucked Berenice Norton! He had actually pulled it off.
He zipped his cock back into his pants before she even turned around.
"Pull up your panties, Berenice," he told her quite coolly.
When she turned around, still limp and exhausted and leaned against his desk, facing him, her face was suffused with a red glow. Her panties still lay at her ankles.
Her skirt was up over her hips and she gave him an excellent view of her box.
The pussy lips were still throbbing open, and there was blood at her thighs.
"Pull your panties up and go and clean yourself up," he told her.
"Y-yes, Mr. Percy," she told him weakly, still not recovered from the wonderful fucking she had just had, for the first time in her life.
Weakly she bent over and pulled up her panties. She walked across the room.
Reginald chuckled to himself, noticing how the girl could hardly close her legs.
"I hope you've learned your lesson this time, Berenice," he said judiciously.
"Y-yes, Mr. Percy," she said, dazed. All the fire had gone out of her.
Then he let her go. He was feeling quite pleased with himself.
So pleased in fact, that he thought he deserved a nip from the bottle of gin he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. He went over and got it out.
He was nipping from the bottle when a stirring movement in the next room made his heart almost stop. He called out, "Who's in there?"
The door to the inner office, Miss Rathbone's office, opened.
She stepped into his office. There was a strange flush on her cheek.
"You were a naughty, naughty boy," she told him tipsily.
Miss Rathbone had slipped away from the picnic to have a nip of her favorite brandy. The spring day and the wet dreams of the night before had all combined to make her feel girlish all over again. And the other teachers seemed to be handling the picnic so well. When she first heard Mr. Percy enter the office with the young girl, her first thought had been to figure out a way to get out quietly.
But the only way out was through Mr. Percy's office.
She had no choice was to stay put where she was and watch!
And that she was able to do quite easily, through the window in the door.
The lights had been on in Mr. Percy's office. But her windowless office had been dark.
And neither the young girl, nor the headmaster, had noticed her interested face at the window. She was smiling secretively as she came towards him.
"Miss Rathbone! Have you been spying on me!" he demanded.
Caught in the act he was flushed and confused and angry.
She had spoiled everything! She would report him to the authorities!
He would lose his reputation, his job, his pension, everything!
"Mr. Percy," she replied, "have you been being a naughty boy with one of the students?" She giggled a little tipsily, and burped on the brandy.
He burped on the gin. They both looked at each other and giggled.
"Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!" she reprimanded him with a wiggling finger.
She came over and sat on the edge of his desk while he put his feet up while sitting in his chair. They felt cozy and intimate together, as if they shared a secret.
"Yes, Miss Rathbone," he declared academically, "I have been thinking it over and I've come to see things your way. I think caning is indeed a most useful tool in the disciplining of wayward students." He tipped the bottle up.
She giggled. "I'm so glad you agree," she said.
Watching the caning, and then the subsequent act of sex, had made her quite hot.
And it was hot anyway, in her inner office.
She'd taken off her jacket.
And now she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her starched white shirt.
She dangled one leg off the side of his desk and her high-heeled black shoe swung.
The sight of the young girl's cunt had made her so hot and excited.
And she had been playing with herself behind the door while watching the girl get fucked from behind. Miss Rathbone had been quite impressed with Mr. Percy's technique.
He really knew how to shove it in there and move it around.
And she'd also been rather impressed with the size of his tool.
It was even bigger than the jade dildo she had at home.
She licked her lips and stared at his cock bundle in his pants.
"Would you like some gin, Miss Rathbone," he offered her.
"No thanks, I've got my brandy. Tell me something, Mr. Percy, do you often have sex?" She giggled at the impropriety of her outrageous question.
"Well, now that you mention it, Miss Rathbone, and to be quite honest, I'd have to say, not often enough." He hiccupped loudly and smiled.
"And yourself?" he asked her politely, staring at the way her skirt was sliding up her stockinged thighs. He'd never noticed that before. She wore real stockings.
He could see the tabs of her garters now. Most women nowadays seemed to wear those dreadful pantyhose. He licked his lips and continued to stare at the shadow lying underneath her tight skirt. She noticed where his gaze was falling.
She twitched her thighs together before answering him coyly:
"Not enough myself, I must say. Since my dear sister died."
"Ooops!" she put her hand over her mouth suddenly, realizing what she had said, "Your sister! Well, well, Miss Rathbone, that is something of a surprise. Tell me, what did you think of our little Miss Berenice just now. Wasn't she a nice piece."
"Mmmmmm, indeed she was, Mr. Percy. I wouldn't mind having a sample of those wares."
"I'll let you take her on next time yourself, Miss Rathbone."
Reginald was getting drunk and feeling benevolent now.
"Why, that's quite decent of you, Mr. Percy!" she exclaimed.
Her thighs were wet at the top of them, at the root, and she squeezed them tightly together. Never before had she liked Mr. Percy so much as now.
"I must say," she had to tell him, "that I thought your technique with the girl was admirable. You really knew how to stick it in her, coming up like that from behind."
He blushed in spite of himself and then said to her:
"Really now, Miss Rathbone? Did you think so? But I wouldn't have thought that you were much of a connossieur on such, er, cocky matters, considering you and your sister, er, you know what I mean," the cocky bachelor stuttered.
Miss Rathbone let out a high peal of girlish laughter.
"Oh dear me, I know all about cock, I can assure you, Mr. Percy. Well, first of all, you know my sister had one of the most extensive collection dildoes in this country? You didn't know that? Well she did. And we experimented greatly with all of them."
Reginald felt it was a delicate issue, but he couldn't resist saying:
"All the same, Miss Rathbone, it's not quite the same."
She laughed again. "Don't I know it. There's nothing like the real thing."
Reginald looked quite surprised. He said, "Then you mean, you...."
She said, "Sometimes." She looked at him coyly.
Her hand had crept quite far up the slit up the front of her tight skirt.
"You know something, Miss Rathbone, you really are quite attractive. Or you could be, if you let your hair down occasionally, literally!"
She said, "That could be done." She lifted her hand to her head.
And took out the pins that held her hair in place.
She shook out the loose curls of her soft brown hair.
They fell all over her shoulders. She said, "It's quite hot in here, isn't it?"
And unbuttoned a few more buttons of her white blouse.
His dick was getting hard in his pants again as he said:
"You know I really ought to cane you, Miss Rathbone, for spying on me."
He put his hand lightly on the handle of the cane, now lying on the desk.
She smiled, unafraid and said quite lightly to him:
"On the contrary, Mr. Rathbone, it's I who ought to cane you. After all I caught you doing something quite nasty with one of the students. You could get into a lot of trouble for that if the wrong person heard about it."
He saw that she had a point there, and yet he didn't want to be caned.
He said, "I'll tell about you and your sister!" quite bluntly.
She shrugged his threat off laughingly and said to him:
"She's been dead for years. Besides, who would believe you? That I had had sexual relations with my sister, the headmistress of Saint Mary's for many years?"
He sighed. She had another point there. Now she slid the cane out of his hand.
. "Well, how about it, naughty Mr. Percy. Naughty Reginald. Naughty Reggie. Yes, Reggie, you've been a naughty, naughty boy, and now you have to face the music."
She stood up and told him, "Stand up! Right now! Quickly!"
Her voice had her old authoritative ring to it again.
Feebly, like a scared little school boy he stood up, holding his bottle.
"No, put your bottle down. You can't hold it while you get caned. Come out here, in front of the desk, and drop your pants. Hurry up, Reggie!"
He almost seemed to slip back into his earlier mentality as a boy of fifteen, when the lovely young married teacher had reprimanded him after school for cheating on an exam. He came around in front of the desk sheepishly, and dropped his pants.
His dick was already hard and poking out of his boxer shorts.
"Grab the desk and bend over, you naughty, naughty boy!" she said.
He did as he was told, and truth be toldhe was really quite frightened.
His heart was pounding hard in his chest and his breath came in pants.
Miss Rathbone came up behind him first and leaned over his back.
He could feel her big naked titsshe'd taken them out of her blouseagainst his back, and she was reaching under him and feeling his big hard cock through his shorts. She was squeezing it as if she were testing it's hardness.
"My, my! Aren't you a hard one! Well, let's see if we can get it any harder!"
Then she stepped back. She unzipped her skirt and took it off.
She stepped out of it and also tossed off her panties.
Then she was standing there in just her heels, stockings and garters!
With the cane. "Take that, you naughty boy!" she cried out, laying the first stroke of the cane on him. He cried out as it hit his buns.
She put her fingers to her hot wet pussy to play with herself while she beat his taut ass. Everyone once in a while she came up behind and reached down under his legs to test out the thickening hardness of his cock and balls.
She beat his ass until he ejaculated again all over his own desk.
Then she made him eat her out until she came and came.
He begged her to let him do it. And the soft wet meat of her cunt against his face was almost compensation in itself for the burning of his butt.
He tongued out her wet pussy meat over and over again.
Never in his life had he thought that he would find the wet cunt of this older woman so delicious. It was just like the time he had been whipped and beaten and then forced to eat out the cunt of his teacher at school when he was a boy.
He sucked on her long clit and licked at the base of it.
"Oooooh," she squealed out aloud with uncontrollable delight.
She was writhing and moving her hips back and forth against his face.
He was holding her hips and his prick was so big and hard.
It was spronging out of his boxer shorts and out of his pants.
Miss Rathbone leaned over and grabbed his big thick tool.
"My," she exclaimed, "what have we here? You dirty little boy!"
She began jerking off his dick, bringing the skin up and down over the bulging head of his cock and making it squirm with delight. His ass was on fire.
"Naughty little boys like you have to be whipped into line," she said.
She was remembering seeing him whipping that little cute student.
She was remembering the look of pure unadulterated lust on his face.
While he whipped that little wench's ass and made it get so hot and red.
"You liked whipping that little chicky, didn't you?" she asked him.
Meanwhile she was fondling his burning buttocks with her long fingernails.
"Oh, don't stop doing that, yes, I did like it," he admitted.
His prick, growing longer and longer and harder and harder in her hands, felt so good, and he would have admitted to anything just so she would go on.
"And you like what I'm doing to you, too, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes!" he panted, feeling her hand close around his cock.
She was squeezing him so hard, because she couldn't believe how hard he was.
"And you liked having me whip your ass, your ass is so fine and hot now, right?"
She started lightly scratching his burning buttocks with her nails.
Her nails sent shivers running up his spine like hot flashes.
"Yes," he panted, his lips still trembling near the crevice of her dripping wet cunt. Her dripping wet pussy hair was right by his lips.
She grabbed his head by the hair and thrust his face into her meat.
"Eat my cookies," she told him forcefully with a laugh.
And then she lit into his ass with her fingernails.
Tearing at him, ripping at him, clawing him with her nails.
His ass skin was already red and raw and it hurt like crazy!
When she got to his ass-hole she really started playing with it.
Pawing and feeling it, making it open and digging down into it.
"Ohhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhh," he groaned with ecstasy.
She was going to make him come now, come any second!
