Showing posts with label tutor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tutor. Show all posts

Monday, May 13, 2013

From the Top Shelf - The Amorous Professor, Part 3





We pick up from where we left off last week. The new tutor, Frank, has been ordered by his employer to administer a spanking, and Lucy the housemaid is his victim. She has been cheeky and insolent and needs to be taught a lesson, but she doesn't submit willingly.


As Lucy continued to protest loudly, Hortensia Dartman put her hand under the pillow which was propped against the back of a thickly upholstered armchair and drew out several lengths of cord, which she then tossed to me. It was quite clear that this whole thing had been staged in advance.

I hesitated, not knowing quite what to do. I suppose there is an element of sadism in my make-up which made me relish the prospect of mastering this impertinent little vixen who had cheeked me... Besides, Lucy's attitude made me angry. If she had contented herself with behaving in a dignified manner when confronted with the fury of Mrs. Dartman, if she had continued to appeal to my better instincts, I might well have sided with her and risked the loss of my employment. Instead she cried out, "No, you shan't tie me down. The two of you are in cahoots to do this wicked thing to me and I won't let you!"

...All might still have been averted had Lucy contented herself with one mild oath. Instead she turned and tried to strike me. Naturally I fended off her blow, caught her wrist and doubled it behind her back. Since I had a length of cord in the other hand, it was child's play to bind her wrists tightly behind her back while she twisted and tried to kick me in the shins, crying out, "You're nothing but a low-down bastard, helping her - oh you brute, it's easy for you to treat a poor defenceless girl this way - ooo you're hurting me you swine!"

"Watch your tongue!" I shouted angrily as I made her wrists fast. Then I pushed her rudely towards the sofa and forced her down on her stomach. She kicked wildly, but Mrs, Dartman shouted, "Tie her ankles too, that will quieten her down - the little slut!"

I did so. They were finely chiseled ankles, and they were sheathed in very sheer nylon hose. She lay there panting, her face contorted and very red, and then she began to cry... She was really entrancing when she cried, and that saucy freckle face of hers was bathed in tears now and her lower lip was trembling. I felt my prick stiffen with desire as I roughly trussed up the uniform skirt and the slip beneath it, tucked them neatly into the cloth belt at the waist of the uniform, and found myself staring at one of the most delicious bottoms I had ever seen.

The cheeks of Lucy's arse were broad firm ovals, and the white nylon knickers which concealed them actually made them more suggestively enticing than if she had been stark naked at that moment. The material pressed into the sinuously widening crease between those posterior hillocks, and it clearly conveyed the wonderful elasticity and resilience of her voluptuous young posterior.

Her fair young skin was a light cream with rosy flecks dotting it all over. The narrow tab of the garter-belt, the outline of which I could see just under the waistband of those filmy knickers clung tenaciously to the tops of her sheer nylons. She had long supple thighs, extremely graceful, and her calves were high set, sinuous and very sensitively muscled. I watched them, flexing and rippling, as she fought to free herself.

"No, it's not right, you've got no right to make him to that to me," Lucy cried out, trying frantically to roll off the sofa. But I, with great anticipation and delight at being able to conquer her rebellious spirit, inserted my fingers inside the waist-band of those filmy nylon knickers and slowly drew them down.

To this day I have never failed to experience a throbbing in my prick of great excitement and anticipation whenever I am about to unveil a female posterior. The humiliation, the anguish of the victim, the knowledge that soon her naked bottom will not only be viewed by a man, but will also be exposed to the merciless kisses of the birch, paddle, cane or tawse or even the more mortifying child-like chastisement of the palm of my hand, provide me with an unquenchable sensation of triumph and mastery. I think this is true of every sadist, though my sadism is necessarily more imaginative and certainly never unfeeling or brutal. In short, the prospect of whipping Lucy's naked behind intoxicated me, and allowed me to forget the main reason for her punishment...

She uttered a sobbing cry, bowed her head and then burst into uncontrolled tears as I rolled her knickers down to mid thigh... As I reached for my case, my eyes did not leave the snowy, firm, spacious ovals which twitched and quivered in the most obvious apprehension of what was to follow. I could see Lucy's face, red with shame and wet with tears, pressed down against the surface of that thickly upholstered period piece, and her shoulders had begun to heave as she fought to control her sobs of desperate mortification and chagrin.

Meanwhile I opened my case and took the spanker, that black gleaming leather sole which weighed so well in my hand and promised to make such a loud and humiliating noise when it struck Lucy's naked, pale behind. Hortensia Dartman, seeing me advance with spanker in hand, nodded her head with glee; "Smack her wicked bottom until it's as red as a tomato, Mr. Meredith!" she exhorted. She was pressing down with all her might, her palms on the middle of Lucy's back, keeping the unfortunate girl in place, helpless to avert her atonement...

There was a foot-stool nearby and I drew it up and seated myself on it comfortably. I was thus able to have the redhead's bottom and thighs within easy reach and without undue exertion.. Putting my left hand on one of her stockinged lower thighs, I lifted the sole and delivered its first kiss with a downward jerking turn of my wrist. Craaaaack! as the sole merged over the tender inner curves of both oval arse cheeks, pinching them as it bridged the shadowy groove which separated Lucy's voluptuous naked bottom-cheeks.

A shrill wail came back instantly, and Lucy turned her face back over her shoulder to implore mercy from me. Again her bound ankles fought the cords, and her legs tried to kick and flail but they could not.

I placed a second blow over the base of her bottom, once more horizontally, once more bridging the crease and pinching the tender inner edges. Here, as I have since learned, the flesh of a girl's naked bottom is far more sensitive than towards the summit and the top. The reaction was instantaneous; a wild cry of pain, hoarse sobs and a frenzied thrashing of the now scarlet-splotched bare bottom this way and that as Lucy tried to shake off the heat which these first two spanks from the leather sole had engendered in her tender flesh.

I applied a third spank with all my might, once again straight across both oval cheeks, at their broadest curves. Once again, Lucy's cry was deafening, and she twisted and swerved herself savagely about as she hoarsely shouted, "Owwwwww, Aaaahh, it's dreadful - oh you are a wicked woman to make him do this to me. Please stop, Mr. Meredith, you are hurting me awfully!"

I applied two more spanks, to leave five horizontal streaks over the magnificent contours of Lucy's writhing, naked arse, each drawing a wild cry and a sobbing plea for mercy. I was quite certain that the degree of heat produced by the leather spanker would be quite adequate to punish this impertinent minx for the way she had behaved towards me.

Now I began to touch up Lucy's wriggling weaving bottom. Five more times the leather spanker fell across both cheeks,with a loud whack each time, till from the chinkbone to the tops of her thighs the splotched outlines of the leather sole were plainly marked upon her shuddering, contracting cheeks and there was little white skin left for the eye to relish.

Once again her hips threshed about, lunging up and then flattening, and her yells and wails were exquisite to my ears... I now resumed the spanking with two vertical blows, one to the edge of each lovely, firm hip and Lucy again wailed out her anguish and wriggled her bottom in the most fetching way. two more followed, closer towards the crease, and two more which nearly pinched it shut. Her cries were deafening, and the frenzied attempts of her bound legs to kick and twist afforded me a quick glimpse of the thickly haired slit...

By the twentieth spank, Lucy had forgotten about the shame of having her naked bottom displayed before a man's eyes and was pleading brokenly for mercy. Hortensia Dartman moved back a little, cupped the girl's trembling chin in both palms and stared deeply into her tear glazed eyes: "Are you going to be more obedient in future? Answer me! I'll have you whipped until there is no skin on your bottom unless you obey!" she threatened.

I added two more spanks, diagonally applied, one from the left downward across the right cheek,and the other a back-handed reverse which sent the tip of the leather sole crashing against the inner edge of the top left buttock, continuing on toward the base as the flat surface of the sole wedded itself to Lucy's burning arse...

"This is quite enough, Mrs. Dartman. Her bottom is very red and sore as you can see for yourself. I think she has suffered enough." To convince her I applied three or four more spanks all over Lucy's bounding, wriggling and now dark red naked arse, drawing piteous wails and cries plus an outpouring of fresh new tears.

It was a moderate smack-bottom and not unduly severe. The noise of the sole as it landed obviously added to Lucy's distress and made it seem much more severe than was actually the case. Her bottom was hot and stinging, and it would remain that way for a few hours. But gradually the marks would fade and once again there would be that pale cream flesh with those delicious rosy flecks which had driven me so mad with desire.

"I think she's had enough for a start," I said at last, adding two more spanks which drew shrill screams and frantic twisting from the unfortunate bound captive. Lucy lay sobbing, her face pressed down against the upholstery of the sofa, wetting it with her tears.



Lucy will no doubt remember her manners and behave appropriately in future, for a while, at least.



From Hermione's Heart

Monday, December 20, 2010

From the Top Shelf - The Tutor Again

We continue the disciplinary session that began last week.

At this last stroke which had bitten home against the base of her left buttock, I kept the sole resting on her twitching skin and paused. Then I asked her calmly, "Are you beginning to feel sorry for your cheekiness, Eileen?" This time she didn't look up, but in a voice that was quivering and somewhat higher in pitch than her usual tone, answered, "Ah-oh, why-yes, Mr. W. I am sorry for what I've done, really!"

I was quite inexperienced when it came to chastisement, but still I told myself that if only fourteen spanks had so improved Eileen's disposition to be meek and deferential, a few more might not go amiss. So, after another moment or two, I took firmer hold of the taped heel of my spanking aid and lifted it up. Eileen recognized this as a signal that I was going to resume, and I heard her give a little sigh of "Oh my!" while at the same time she pushed herself a little closer to me, tightening all her muscles in readiness.

I hesitated a moment, then applied the resuming strokes across both of her bottomcheeks at the very base. I have since found that this is one of the most sensitive of all areas of the female posterior in spanking, and Eileen's reaction demonstrated the general rule: her hips seemed to wrench from side to side, then to arch up spectacularly, and for the first time she turned back her face to me to emit a shrill little "Ooch, oh, I did feel that one, sir!"

"I am relieved to hear you say that, Eileen. I had thought that perhaps you were such a grown up young lady that a childish bottomsmacking like this made no impression on you whatsoever. Now if you are ready again, I shall continue with the rest of your correction."

She uttered a long, tremulous sigh, and turned her face back and bowed her head again, stiffening her entire body once more.

I then began to smack her upturned seat with slightly quicker spanks of the leather sole, but this time I saw to it that each stroke attacked both cheeks of her behind rather than a single one as had been done during the first portion of her allotment. It took me seven or eight more spanks to reach the tops of her ample hips, and each of these crisply-intoned applications of the leather drew little squeaks from her, and an occasional convulsive tip-back of one foot or the other, and a continuous restless kind of squirming over my lap.

I perceived that the colour I had so liberally bestowed over those satiny hemispheres was now a furious bright red, so I considered that she had had a sufficient penalty this time. Lifting up the sole again, I asked, "If I let you go back to your place, Eileen, do you think you can spend the rest of the afternoon in concentrated study without any more of your impertinence?" And before she could answer, I delivered the final spank, straight across both globes at their ripest curve.

Her bottom jerked to the left, then to the right, then arched up, then flattened itself, as with a sobbing "Oh, ouch, ouch, oh yes, Mr. W, I'm sure I can, oh please!"

I don't know what possessed me at that moment, but seeing that her panties had, during the frequent twistings of her legs and kicking of her feet, become tangled about her ankles. I leaned down and drew them off and placed them on the edge of my desk, saying, "Very well, then, Eileen, you may go back to your seat. But just to make sure that you don't forget this smacking for the rest of the afternoon, you will leave off your panties. Now you may get up."

With this, as she slowly tried to raise herself from over my lap, I hastily pulled down her skirt and slip, took hold of her elbows and stood her on her feet. Her face was quite flushed, and her eyes were red, filled with tears. Her lips were trembling, and she was breathing rather quickly. Nonetheless, when she finally looked at me, the ghost of a smile made itself manifest on her full, soft mouth as she whispered, "I did deserve that, I know. And I'll try to do better, truly I will."

For the rest of the study period she was as meek and quiet as an angel. I then assigned her another composition, and made no further mention of the smacking. I walked away from the desk and saw, out of the corner of my eye, that she very swiftly and stealthily retrieved her panties and hid them between her books as she left the room.

But this was not to be the final chastisement she was to receive from me.

Yes, there's more to come.

From Hermione's Heart