So I was lying over his knees, bottom bare, waiting for his next touch. I knew it wouldn’t be him stroking me between my thighs again. He wanted to hurt me. It was his duty to punish me. I knew I’d been a brat to my teacher, really, and I couldn’t say that I didn’t deserve it. But with the headmaster instead of my teacher, it was a whole different experience.
He’d said, “you’ll come over my lap”. It hadn’t been what he meant, but I knew that I would. And that he wouldn’t be shocked. I could feel his thing hard and pressing up under me. He’d know, and he’d like it.
[Maddie and I were lying side by side on the mattress in the storeroom, her head nestled under my arm, while she told me this story. She’d started idly stroking my cock while she talked.]
I wriggled a little until his thing was between my thighs. I was sure it got bigger. Anyway, I know this was how we both wanted it. For now. We wanted more, too. My throat was so dry. We were nearly doing it right now, and I was sure that when he made me strip completely, to get the paddle, we couldn’t resist. He’d take me.
He was so handsome, and so dominant, and so good to me. I wanted him to take me. He should be my first. Someone who knew what he was doing, and wouldn’t hesitate. It was only right.
And then his hand landed, on my left cheek. It felt so hard, and made me feel so soft, under him. I suppose it should have hurt, but it didn’t. It was like the strap on my hands, only a thousand times more. It felt like fire. It felt like sex, not that I knew that then.
But I wiggled, part from reaction, and partly to keep his attention. I knew I was going to leak soon. I’m a juicy girl.
[“I can confirm this”, I said, and she kissed me. She said, “Shhh. For now.”]
And his hand landed again on the same place. It sounded louder, so it must have been harder. But it just felt like a caress.
My skin tingled, and so did my cunt. I went wiggling again, and he grunted. His moved, while I lay across his knees. He couldn’t help himself.
His cock needed the release. I knew it. He was mine. I was so happy I could have sung while he spanked me.
He spanked me again on the same spot, his hand so hard, so firm above me; his cock just as hard and firm below me. It was fire and sweetness. And I could feel myself running, juices running down my inner thighs. He’d been right when he’d said he’d need a towel when he spanked me. But I was glad he hadn’t. I didn’t want anything at all between us. I moaned, and he couldn’t possibly have thought it was from pain.
He switched to my right cheek at last, his hand landing, hard. I worked myself on his thing, hips rolling up and down, while he added two more hard smacks. I loved the feel of his hand. I suppose it did hurt, in a way, but there were so many other things it made me feel that I barely noticed the pain. It just wasn’t what was important.
After the third smack on my right cheek he stopped. I suppose he was looking at me. Then I felt him again. My touched my cunt! Directly, with no pretence that he was doing it accidentally. I nearly screamed. I said, “Please…” Though I’m not sure what it was that I was begging for.
He said, “good girl.” And then his fingertips pushed into me.
My mouth and my eyes were as wide as they can go. It felt so incredibly sweet, and right. My own fingers had been there before, but no one else’s. He knew what I wanted, and he pushed further inside. I moaned from pure pleasure, though I was trying to keep myself quiet.
His fingers pushed hard into me, and withdrew slowly. I stopped moving, my bottom up, splayed for him as wide as my thighs would go. I could do the splits, then. He grunted. “Wet girls need spanking, don’t they?”
I could hear the smile in his voice, but my answer still mattered. The cane and the paddle weren’t so far away. “Yes, sir! Wet girls deserve anything you want to give me. I mean, them.”
He laughed, and this time he withdrew his fingers all the way. My cunt felt bereaved. Bereft. But he rested his hand on my bottom. “You’re right,” he said. And then the spanking started again.
This time it was harder, and I understood that before he’d been going easy on me. These smacks were hard, and fast, and absolutely relentless. I lost count early, and they just kept coming. The pain was there. I still felt that sweetness, but now I had to admit that he was hurting me. And that I wanted him to.
Sometimes he’d stop suddenly and hold me still. just for a few seconds. I knew he was having trouble stopping himself from coming. I wanted him in me when he came, so that suited us both. Each time he stopped, he spanked harder when he could move again. Something strange was happened. It felt so glorious, but I found myself crying. Just a couple of tears running down my cheeks at first. But soon, his hand still regularly smacking onto my flesh, my tears flooded, My mouth opened and I cried like a baby.
I think he liked that. He stopped and stroked my poor needy cunt again. From the inside. Very firmly, but very slow. Something was happening in my body. My toes curled, inside my shoes, and my stomach muscles tightened. Then this wave of sweetness, of absolutely joy hit me, and I – well, I dissolved in it. I came, and I screamed and wailed, and I couldn’t help it or make myself quiet. It was the most wonderful thing I’d ever felt.
I lay drooping across his lap, hands and feet resting on the carpet. He held me in place, and kept stroking me. I thought I was spent, but in less than a minute I felt a second wave. Not quite as big or terrifying, but warm and satisfying. He stroked a little longer, but I was done for now.
I knew there’d be more of that feeling after he’d paddled me. I wondered how his thing would feel, inside me. Or would he just use his fingers? I didn’t mind what he did. I felt utterly blissful. For now I was content to wait. I was content in every way, come to that.