Note: These stories have been written, till now, for Kayla Lord’s Masturbation Monday meme. Kayla is taking a break from running that meme, so this story is going to be homeless, for now. But my sincere admiration and thanks to Kayla for providing that meme and keeping it up and running so successfully for so long. Thank you, Kayla!
And now, back to our usual programming!
A sweetly relaxed Image of Iintermission.
With just a trace of pink in the air. Or the rear.
Sensual things have been happening, slowly. She knows there is more to come. But in the intermission, the wise woman rests, and lets her imagination wander.
And the lovely Zoë is always wise.
Seamus faced his class again. No one met his eyes. He spoke quietly for the rest of the class, so they had to be silent, and there was no further mention of disciplinary matters except for occasional sniffs from Yua, in the corner, hands on head, her bottom no doubt sore after her caning.
All was peace until the whistle sounded and the class filed out, some of them glancing at Yua, still standing with her nose to the wall. The skirt covered the three bright stripes that had to be there, where he’d caned her.
When the room was empty, Seamus said, “Yua.”
She walked towards him in little steps, head down. She stood by his desk, silent. Seamus remembered something that his friend and fellow teacher Amida had told him about punishing students in private. Most of the girls would lift their skirts and take down their panties, if ordered. Seamus expected she’d be very cooperative. Still, that was probably too much, for now.
On the other hand, he did think he’d let Yua off too lightly. So he said, “I expect you to do last week’s homework and next week’s, and to give them to me at the start of class next week. Is that understood?”
“Yes, O’Grady-sensei.”
“You know what to expect if that work is less than excellent. I know very well that you aren’t stupid. Even if your excuses have been stupid. So you’re going to stop pretending to be a dummy, and give me your best effort from now on. Is that understood too?”
She bobbed down a little, twisting the bottom of her skirt. It looked like it might be anguish, but it also showed him more of the tops of her thighs. “Of course, O’Grady-sensei. I’m so sorry.”
But when she smiled at him then, it came too easily and too cheerfully, and Seamus decided. The decision was not in her favor. “Good. Now go into the storeroom, Yua, and wait for me. I am not finished with you.”
She lost her smile immediately. But she turned and obeyed. Seamus let a few minutes pass before he followed her, wondering about what she was up to. He was going to give her more strokes of the cane, of course.
She deserved them, so it was, arguably, his duty. He wasn’t going to do anything sexual with her.
Or not directly sexual; she was a very attractive woman and he already had an erection. He could feel the press of his own clothes against his cock, like sweet pain. There was no doubt that he’d be even more aroused when he caned her, and something about her performance after the three strokes he’d already given her suggested that she might be too.
But she’d gone out of her way to deserve her extra stripes, in a school in which corporal punishment was common. She must have known what she was doing. His abstention from school custom, in relation to corporal punishment, had only stood out, so far. It made him weird, not admirable.
He suspected all of his classes would do better work in the coming weeks if he gave Yua a proper tale of woe to tell and some painful-looking marks to show the other girls. Besides, he remembered, he’d borrowed his cane from Amida, and he’d promised to tell him how he’d used it. He hadn’t wanted that story to be about Asuka. So it would be about Yua.
He picked up the cane and followed Yua into the storeroom.
Hylas kissed Ojastara’s cunt. It was warmer than human skin should be, almost hot. And her sweat was somehow sweet. No one in Thebes had ever talked of a goddess like this one before, but she must be such, in someone’s pantheon.
In any case he adored and kissed her cunt, worshipping with fervour, with conviction and with a hard-on. His cock had never felt so hard, so longing, or … so large. He felt as if his cock was full, not just with blood but with energy. Then he kissed her belly, her navel, and, crawling further up her body, her nipples, left then right.
He kissed them again, trying to take as much of each breast into his mouth as he could. He was rewarded when she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. He’d learned that that meant he was doing the right thing.
Her thighs lifted, so her inner thighs clasped his outer thighs, and he lowered his body so that his cock pressed, at last, against that warm wet fruit. He entered her easily, but slowly, wanting to savour every moment and every dactylos* of this new experience.
Her cunt seemed to embrace his cock, to clasp it in a warm and wet and tight paradise. It was heaven and he was in heaven. Her arms reached up and embraced him, held him, hands stroking his back. He pressed forward then for the first time withdrew a little, and she moaned. Encouraged he pressed forward a little further, then moved back and forth, each forward thrust taking him a little deeper.
At last they met, his pelvic bone pressed hard against hers, cock fully buried in warm pleasure. He could not think; only experience. This was the most intense sensation he had ever known.
He pressed his forehead down towards hers and kissed her nose, inexpertly, then her mouth, open-mouth to open-mouth, with growing skill.
At last he couldn’t hold himself from moving in her, and he began to pump slowly. The goddess held him, with her arms, her thighs and her arms. He was imprisoned, infinitely pleasured.
He put his hand under her, holding her buttocks, for the sensual pleasure of that, and to hold theirs bodies close. He rode.
For a while Arethusa and I were enthusiastic about impact play outdoors in the wee small hours of night.
It was quiet and mysterious. It was romantic.
And, because Arethusa knew she couldn’t help crying out, and she underestimated how far away the nearest neighbours actually were, it was humiliating.
Humiliation is a complex submissive pleasure, and not all submissives like it.
But Arethusa felt that it helped carry her into a world where she was small and utterly submissive, and at the same time paradoxically safe. So I learned to give it.
This midnight-ish paddling, over a trestle, wasn’t punishment. It was purely sexual.
And, I suppose, it was scientific, at least on my part. I’d just made a wooden paddle, and I wanted to see if it, well, worked.
But the next day one of his students, a girl called Yua, had again failed to do her homework. She stood beside her desk to tell him that she’d made a parcel of it, and on the bus one man had bumped her and when she dropped her homework another man, a black man, had stolen it and run from the bus. She was a pretty girl, a little older than Asuka, maybe nineteen, and she wasn’t stupid. But she’d clearly decided she could coast through school, and that Seamus was the teacher most likely to accept no work at all.
Seamus looked at her. It was known that he didn’t cane his students. He told her to come to the front of the class, carrying her chair. Yua did so, suspicious but not too alarmed. She didn’t expect him to punish her.
But he said, “Yua, I’ve had enough stupid excuses from you.” He paused, and spoke the truth. “It’s not just that you’re lazy and not doing your work. It’s that your excuses are so stupid. It’s insulting.”
He took out Mr Amida’s cane, and her gasp was lost in a collective in-take of breath from the entire class. She said, “Oh.” Then, when she’d recovered from her surprise she put her hands together and crouched in front of him. “Sir. O’Grady-Sensei! I’m so sorry. I’ll do extra work. Please don’t punish me!”
He considered asking her to say that in English, but he knew she couldn’t, simple though it was. “Yua, turn your chair so the back faces the class. Then bend over the back, head right down. Put your hands on the further edge of the seat, and don’t move until I say you can.”
She snuffled, tears already flowing, and obeyed. Yua was a woman, not a girl, and if Seamus had stopped to admire her, he’d have found her an attractive sight displayed in that position.
But he faced the class instead, and held up the cane.
“Many of you expected that I wouldn’t need to use this. I thought so too. But it’s in use, in my classes, from now on. For that you can blame this girl.”
He lined up Mr Amida’s cane on the lower slopes of Yua’s uniform, trying not to admire her soft, bare thighs, and delivered a stroke across her bottom, close to the most rounded area. Just that single evening with Asuka had improved his aim. Yua yelped, but held her position. He was caning over her skirt, so he’d have to imagine the stripe forming.
Seamus made the next stroke harder, and Yua began to wail, her face a mask of sorrow. Seamus glared at the class then. If she was going to be theatrical, then so would he be. They were utterly silent, watching Yua intently. No one seemed to feel much sympathy. She really should have come up with better excuses.
He gave the girl one more stroke, this one just below the uniform hem, on pantied, rounded skin, just above her thighs. There was a murmur from the class. They could see that stripe rising and reddening as they watched. It obviously hurt Yua, but otherwise it made very little difference to her. She was already wailing, and she had nothing more to give.
Seamus reached for the girl’s ear and pulled her about halfway upright. He snapped, “Be quiet now, Yua, or I’ll give you the same again.” Her wails stopped as if she’d turned off a tap. When she stood upright the three stripes disappeared. He considered making her raise the skirt, but decided against it.This wasn’t going to turn into something sexual. He hoped.
“Yua, you’re a silly girl. You’re to go and stand in the corner there. Nose to the corner, hands on head for the rest of this lesson. When class is dismissed, you can come and tell me you’re sorry.”
She looked at him, hands on head, for one last time before facing the wall. She was smiling. As if she’d done something clever. As if triumphantly. Then her mouth pursed into a kiss, and Seamus understood that he was wrong. This was about sex. Very much so.
Ojastara swallowed Hylas’s come, and smiled. “That was lovely, little student.” She took the cane back from Hylas’s listless hand. He seemed drained, as in a way he was. “Now you’re going to fuck me.”
Hylas looked at her and then, reflexively, down at his cock, slick with saliva and traces of his own come, but shrunken. Ojastara took that wet cock in her left hand, and used the cane to strike the inside of his left thigh. Then she did the same on his right thigh, and then repeated the dose. The cock in her hand was awakening, slowly starting to fill with blood again, and expand.
“I’m going to have to tell Phyrne about this, aren’t I? So she knows how to get you hard.” She struck him twice more, now stroking the shaft of his cock. He was fully erect in her hand. Hard.
She smiled again. “You’re going to fuck me twice, Hylas. The first time, you’re going to do it the way you want. What comes naturally to you. Understood?”
“Yes, Ojastara.”
The cane whizzed in the air and struck his hip. “I think you’ll go back to calling me Teacher, for now. Now, is that understood?”
“Yes, Teacher.”
“That’s better. After you’ve put more of your lovely come in me, I’m going to explain all the things you did wrong, for pleasing a woman, and then you’re going to fuck me again, properly. By the way, how do you expect that I’ll point out your mistakes, Hylas?”
He blushed. He was seen, and he knew it. “With the cane, Teacher. And that will make me hard enough to fuck you again.”
“Clever, darling boy.” She leaned forward, her face just a hand’s width from his. “Kiss me.”
Hylas put his hand on the back of her head, and leaned up and kissed her, his mouth to hers. There was fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth and she explored him, his teeth, his tongue, with hers. He sighed, pleasured, and closed his eyes. At last, after a blissful eternity, at least, had passed, Ojastara slapped his cheek lightly.
“Now get up, boy. We’re going to start your lessons with me lying on my back, and you mounting me. It won’t always be that way, not even with Phyrne, but it’s a place to start.” Ojastara, beautiful, and blacker than jet, lay herself down on his bed, on her back, thighs parted, knees up.
Hylas stared at Ojastara’s cunt. His eyes were getting used to the darkness, but that cunt seemed to glow faintly, as if lit by some internal fire. What was this woman?
He put his knees between hers, cock erect and hneedy. But first he lowered himself and kissed that cunt again. Almost as worship.
A beautiful day in a castle in Tuscany. Made far more beautiful by the lovely Zoë.
Curves, sunlight, and just a trace of pink. A very simple but effective recipe for happiness.
When Seamus got home it was about eleven and he was still drunker than he was comfortable with. Asuka met him at the door, kneeling naked with a cane in her hand, and another on the floor beside her. The one on the floor had a bow, and a card that said, “For School Use”. “That’s so you can give the other one back”, she said. “But this one,” she passed him the cane in her hand, “Is for me. To you to use on me. Here, at home.” He looked at it, dumbfounded: it was thickish bamboo, about the length of his arm.
While he did that Asuka busied herself with his pants and took his soft cock into her mouth. He’d thought he’d be too drunk to achieve an erection, but Asuka was skilled and enthusiastic and, his desire roused, he used the cane vertically on her bottom while she served him.
But when he was confident his erection was going to last, he pulled her up by her hair, turned her, smacked her bottom and drove her in front of him to the bedroom. He pushed her back onto the bed, and crawled up toward her until he had a hand on each thigh, and pushed them wide. He kissed her just above her little furred patch.
When she was wriggling, delighted, he lowered his face and began to pleasure her with his lips and tongue, getting his greedily wet while she closed her hands into fists and her back arched.
Even so, she took a long time to come, letting small pleasure sounds escape while she held her orgasm off. At last Seamus thrust two fingers into her, to stroke upwards at spongy flesh, and focused his tongue, for the first time on her tiny, hard clitoris, and she raised her thighs higher and cried out once, in what he guessed she thought was an unladylike manner, and let her body sink back to the bed while she sighed happily.
Her gift of the cane, the rod for her own back, changed the nature of their relationship, of course. Especially since Asuka was proud of the marks he left and liked to skip though his apartment naked, so she could catch glimpses of herself in the mirror. He liked that a lot, having a naked, pretty, happy girl about the house, and her joy was infectious.
He found that the cane made her sexually more urgent and passionate and he had to acknowledge that wielding it had the same effect on him. And, oddly since she enjoyed her “punishments”, her attention to schoolwork – particularly Maths – did improve.
Hylas stared at his Teacher, a woman darker than the night, whose body shone as something blacker than the blackness of the air in his room. But he could see her her eyes and her teeth, that told him she was looking back at him. She was smiling.
She said, “Did you like your first lesson?”
“Yes, Teacher.”
“Oh, you can call me Ojastara from now on. A little liberty for you. And you’ll enjoy your next lesson even better. Lie back.”
“Teach – Ojastara?”
She pushed him onto his back. She was, it seemed, immensely strong, though she was being gentle with him. Then she crawled forward, and he felt her knees between his. It was, in a way, like being stalked like a big cat, and then he lost all thoughts when he felt her lips on his inner thigh, just inches from his cock, which jutted up, at a right angle to his body.
She kissed his belly then, just a little. Maddeningly close to his cock, but not quite touching. He grunted. Ojastara crawled further so that her face hung in the air, just inches from his. “Do you know you want?”
He nodded, vigorous, heartfelt. “Yesss. Oh yes. Please.”
“Well, you have to take it, now. Don’t be so afraid of me. Take my hair in your hand, and push my head down, to where you want it. Who are these lessons for?”
“You’re teaching me to please Phyrne. So they’re more for her than for me.”
“Clever boy. And you need to use a little force, without forcing her to do something she doesn’t want. It’s not about being a bully; it’s about showing her you need her. She wants to know that. But she’d like to know you want her. Want her hard, with passion. She’d like to feel you needing her. Take the cane.”
“Ojastara?”
“If you keep questioning me, boy, I will cane you. And we’ll abandon this lesson for something you’ll find less pleasant. But I want you take the back of my head, and push me onto you. And if I don’t please you, in any way, you’re to strike me with that cane.”
“You mean, I should do that with Phyrne?”
“No. What we do isn’t quite what you two will do. But you should have the experience of being in charge. Take the cane.”
This time he didn’t protest or question. He took the thin bamboo length in his hand. He knew that it was capable of delivering a fast and sharp correction. And once it was in his hand, it was like a badge of office.
He struck her twice, reaching down her body so it landed on the balled muscles of her buttocks. He was going to ask her if he’d hurt her, when she sighed. “Nearly. Harder, boy.”
He struck her another six times, steadily getting more daring and increasing the force. He only stopped when he couldn’t wait another second, and pressed her head down, onto his cock. She opened her mouth and took him in, her mouth the softest, warmest, lushly wet place it had ever been.
He groaned with the unutterable pleasure of it, and pushed her head down harder, and thrust up at her.
She lifted her head and said, “You’re learning.”
But he pushed her head back down, filling her so she couldn’t speak. And he thrashed her, hard, with the cane, while she made a warm catlike sound in her throat, and devoted herself to his pleasure.
And, too soon, though it had perhaps been a long time in objective time, he grunted again, and then gasped and cried out his joy as he reached his climax, and flooded her throat. It was the first time he had come in the body of a woman. She stayed with him, licking and sometimes kissing while he softened slowly in her mouth.
He had the odd urge to ask if he’d pleasured her. Logic told him that she’d pleasured him. But … this seemed not to be an arena where logic mattered.