Monday, June 3, 2013

From the Top Shelf - The Amorous Professor, Part 5

Our hero Frank has arrived at the home of his pupils the day after he spanked his older charge for insolence and poor work. He isn't sure of the reception he will receive.

Cynthia gave me a furiously spiteful look and then coloured hotly, while Barbara flushed also and then pretended to be busy with her composition book.

I began the lesson, and again, I shall not bore my readers with the details of their scholastic endeavours, as we three attempted to accomplish them this sultry afternoon, as once again rain was in the air and the rumble of thunder intermittently accompanied our labours. But this time it was Barbara who earned herself a wigging, because she was absolutely hopeless in French, and, indeed, her mother had earlier told me she would need to go to summer school simply to make up for the past semester.

I remonstrated with the younger girl, then she stared at me insolently and remarked in a whining voice, "Oh, I know I shall never understand that ridiculous language, and if Mummy had any sense, she wouldn't send me to summer school. Or, if she did, she wouldn't have hired you to make me do all this extra work in vacation time."

...I rose from the table, walked calmly to my instrument case and took out the leather sole. Barbara uttered a shriek of indignation: "Oh no, you won't! I forbid you to touch me, do you hear? Cynthia and I have decided we are not ever going to be spanked again!"

Nice try, but that isn't going to work!

I headed straight for the astounded honey-blonde younger girl, seized her by the wrist and tried to drag her towards the couch. She uttered a cry, struck at me, and kicked me in the shin. I confess it hurt. I tossed the sole down onto the couch, swore under my breath, bent down and caught her up with both arms and bore her, kicking, struggling and hammering at my face with the fists, to the couch, where I sat down and flung her over my lap at once.

"Now then, Miss Cynthia, come here and hold your sister's wrists," I called, as I promptly clamped my right leg over Barbara's wriggling calves.

"I will NOT, and you can't make me!" Cynthia jeered.

"In that case I will summon the maid, and have her help me to tie you down, so your bottom will be prepared and ready when I have finished with Barbara," was my reply.... A red-faced Cynthia hurried over to the couch, bent down and seized her sister's wrists. Her face was flushed and she was clearly trembling. Apparently I had finally convinced her that I meant business.

"Oh no, Cyn, you promised! Please don't let him smack me, don't!" Barbara wailed, but I was already pulling up her green frock and cream coloured petticoat, to expose a pair of quite succulently rounded and rather broad arse cheeks snugged in a pair of white knickers with many ribbons and laces at the waistband and legs.

Barbara's bare skin, which showed plentifully for about an inch above the tops of her beige nylon hose and above those knickers, was a pale soft pink, really bewitching, soft and satiny.

"Keep a tight hold of her now," I warned, and then I began to pull down her knickers. Barbara shrieked and pleaded, begging her sister for help, but I gave Cynthia such a look of menace that she quailed before it and did not relinquish her grip.

And soon Barbara Dartman's virgin naked arse was bare before me, the plump cheeks clenched piteously as the culprit turned her heart-shaped face back over her shoulder, tears running down her cheeks, to beg me to pull up her knickers and, if I must spank her, to spare her modesty and give her twice as much over her knickers.

I paid no heed to this, but took the spanker and began to apply it in rapid, stinging spanks. She wailed at each one, and it was obvious that her stamina would by no means equal that of her sister. Her pale pink skin marked even more vividly, I soon observed, but I believed that an important first harsh lesson was as important to her as it had been to Cynthia.

When I stopped after twenty hard spanks, I let her sob and wriggle for a bit, admonishing Cynthia to continue holding her sister's wrists tightly, then again resumed. This time, however, I applied the leather sole with about fifteen seconds between each spank, and I delivered the blows horizontally, working from the tops of her hips down to the tops of her thighs. Her frantic entreaties to promise to do better at her studies, her anguished supplications, all were interspersed with frequent cries, tears and sobs and the usual juvenile plaints to which I had been accustomed over the years in my tutorial career...

She threw back her head, turning it this way and that, so that the honey-blonde braid danced and shifted repeatedly over her back. Her voice was softer and thus her cries were more dove-like than her sister's shriller plaints. There was also more terrain on this voluptuous young bottom to work on than with Cynthia's oval shaped arse, so I did not spare the younger girl. She received forty good spanks and was howling for mercy by the time I at last paused and pressed the leather sole against the crease of her quivering bare arse cheeks.

"Now, do you think you can try and struggle with the French language a little harder, Miss Barbara?"

"Ohhhhh owwwwwwwww! Oh yes, anything, oh please stop, I can't bear any more, please stop Mr. Meredith, I'll be good, I'll study hard. Please don't spank me any more!"

So I let her up. Her sister held her wrists and aided her in stumbling off my lap, weeping bitterly. Once her hands were released, they flew to her flaming posterior and unashamedly rubbed it to disperse the flaming heat the spanker had inflicted.... At last she stopped, gave a little cry, pulled up her twisted knickers, then smoothed down her slip and skirt.

Thus it was at the very outset of our sessions that I introduced both girls to the burning pain of corporal punishment. And when I warned both, very sternly, that on the following afternoon I expected to find they had made significant progress, they looked at me with an awed, respectful fear that, I freely confess, did my manly ego the world of good.

Well, it wasn't a caning for Miss Barbara after all, but still a very effective first punishment, don't you think? You will be pleased to know that both girls excelled in their studies from then on, so no more corporal punishment was necessary. What a shame!

From Hermione's Heart


Aimless Rambling said...

A good read and a firm lesson.
Parlez vous francais?

Roz said...

Another great instalment, and a firm lesson indeed. I enjoyed this series Hermione, thank you for sharing.


ronnie said...


A very effective punishment.

I've enjoyed reading The Amorous Professor. Thanks for sharing.


Hermione said...

Sunny - Oui, je parle bien.

Roz - I'm glad you liked it.

Ronnie - I wonder if it works for all languages:)


Daisychain said...

Lovely to read a story without caning... I enjoyed this, thank you, Hermione! xxx

Anonymous said...

Paul Little was quite one for action sequences in his books of this type (of which there are many). In "The Peculiar Passions of Lady Meg" he takes over 100 pages to describe the public birching of three maids to Queen Charlotte (wife of George III) before shipping them off to the colonies.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing this series.

The cane does make an impression that is not soon forgotten.


Hermione said...

Daisy - Right, I know you dislike it. the leather spanker isn't too fearsome!

Rollin - That's a lot of birching:D

Joey - It does indeed. Maybe I can come up with an excerpt for next time.