It’s parents evening at the school. I go there to hear about my daughter’s progress. The teachers break off from the hall into their respective class rooms. I see my daughter’s teacher, who tells me that my daughter is settling into her first year well. After I finish listening to the teacher’s feedback about my daughter I ask any questions I have, then leave the room. I walk down the hallway, passing the staff room. I see three men around the noticeboard in the hallway. As I walk past, one of them calls out to me, “young lady; we are disappointed with your report! See us in our office.” I walk to the end of the corridor, and go to the ladies restroom. At the mirror, I straighten my hair, reapply my lipstick, and unbutton the top buttons of my blouse.
I walk back to the staff room. The men are gone from the corridor. I reach the staff room door; and knock twice. “Come In!” a deep voice calls from within. I push the door and it creaks open. I see the eldest of the three men, a late-40s dark-haired man in a dark grey wool jacket and with a short beard peppered with silver hairs. His eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. “Ms L, how lovely of you to pop by. We have some important business to discuss. Your performance of late has been erratic. You appear unfocused and distracted. We would like to propose a plan to improve your concentration. You will need to work closely with all three of us.”
At these last words, the two other men appear from the secretary’s office. They are in their 30s, one is brown-haired and brown eyed. The other is blonde with blue/grey eyes. “You will firstly work with Mr Bennett and subsequently Mr Johnson. Thereafter you shall see me, and I will build upon their teachings. You will be expected to attend all meetings and complete any assignments. Your lessons will begin tonight, with Mr Bennett. John, please take Ms L to the study room.”
John steps toward the door and gestures to me to exit before him. I step forward out of the room, and he follows closing the door behind us. We walk down the hall in silence. When we reach the study room he informs me we are to go in, and take a seat. He sits down, then asks me to read a sheet of paper. I read; it’s all very perplexing. Talking about ‘hard’ and ‘soft limits.’ I scan the document, and see there is a box for my signature. I sign my name and hand him the paper. He takes it from me then looks into my eyes and tells me to strip to my underwear and lean over the desk.
I stand and wriggle my skirt down over my hips. I unbutton my blouse and remove it. Underneath I’m in a sheer black bra and panty set. There are pink bows on my bra straps and on the front of my pants. I lean over the desk as instructed, gripping the edge. A crackle of tension sparks in the air, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I hear a swish and then a loud ‘crack!’ as my buttock burns with hot fire. Several short sharp blows land on my arse cheeks in quick succession, making my skin feel hot. I feel the sting as the spanking continues until I’ve had at least 10 per cheek.
A natural talent
As he finishes, I hear Mr Bennett’s heavy breathing. He looks flushed, as I imagine my sore buttocks do. He clears his throat and instructs me to “part your legs please.” I do so, and immediately feel his hand cup my crotch, as he murmurs “hmm, very nice. Wider please.” Inching my legs apart his hand is able to slide into the gusset of my panties and two fingers glide along my folds, which to my surprise are slick with juices.
He removes his hand from my pants, licks one finger and hums appreciatively, before offering the other finger to my mouth and imploring me to suck. I take the finger in my mouth and suck it, swirling my tongue around, collecting the tangy nectar from my pussy on my taste buds. “A natural talent you have there,'” he demurs in a smooth baritone. I gaze up at him through my lashes, and release his finger from my lips.
“You may kneel,” he utters. It’s not a request, however, as I sense the commanding tone in his voice. I slide onto my knees, and look up at him, innocently. “Please keep your eyes in front of you, towards the floor. You may only look at me when I address you.” I look down as instructed, and as I do, I hear his belt being unbuckled followed by the zip on his suit trousers opening…
Under his trousers, he has neither briefs nor boxers; he is bare, and his thick swollen head tents up, peeking at me with its dripping ‘eye.’ “You may suck me,” John rasps as his breathing gets heavier. I look up and my eyes widen in earnest. He notices, as he chuckles, and asks innocently, “why are you so surprised? You were informed your lessons would begin this evening, and you’ve already given me an insight as to your oral skills. You could do with being more confident in your ability as I’m sure you’ll be most proficient once you have practiced a few times.”
Feeling apprehensive and aroused at the same time, I part my lips and lick my lower one. His eyes are on mine, and they smoulder with desire as I lean towards him. Taking him in my mouth, my tongue flicks and swirls around his glans. I bob my head up and down, sucking on his warm throbbing length, as he holds my head and thrusts his hips. It doesn’t take long at all, before he is tensing and releasing his creamy ejaculate into my waiting mouth. I swallow most of it, but a little trail is left on my chin as I release his softening cock with a ‘pop’.
He wipes my chin with his finger and tells me to lick it clean. I do so, then he smiles down at me and says, “that concludes my lesson but you will have further instruction from Mr Johnson and Sir Baker.” At this declaration, he takes his leave and I am left perhaps 5 minutes before I hear quick purposeful steps coming down the corridor.
Mr Johnson enters the room but immediately declares it to be not the right location; “this simply will not do for what I have in mind! Let’s take a walk to somewhere more suitable.”
I open my mouth to ask him where he wishes to go, but before I can utter a word he sharply states, “I do not wish to hear you speak except for when I address you. Is that clear?” I reply, “yes Mr Johnson,” barely speaking the words before he ushers me out of the room and down the hallway. We turn a corner, walk down another corridor passing a stairway before reaching a set of double doors opening into a gymnasium.
As we enter, I notice a pommel horse, to one side. He directs me over to it then tells me to lean over and grip the rings on the top. My feet are nudged apart by his foot, and he instructs me to part my legs before bending down to secure straps around my ankles. The straps are interconnected by a spreader bar.
I then feel Mr Johnson’s warm hand brushing my mound from behind. “Let’s see how you can control yourself,” he states, before coating my parted labia with a cool lubricant. He places what feels like a vibrator on my exposed slit, which he switches on, a rhythmic thrum pulsing out over my pussy. Mr Johnson runs the vibrator up and down my slit, teasing me briefly before resting it over my clitoris. He traces it side to side over my delicate pearl and I grind my hips against it.
“No!” He barks out, “you do not have permission to move and you will cum when I allow you to.” He removes the vibrator away from my wanting pussy lips. “I will return the pleasure to you, once you have apologised for your misdemeanour.”
I lick my lips and start to say that “I’m sorry,” He tuts and scornfully enquires “is that your idea of an apology? A half-hearted, pathetic and generic ‘sorry’?” This reminds me of the situation I find myself in. He wants to be completely dominant over me, and control what happens in the gymnasium. Aware that I must apologise properly before he will proceed I speak more eloquently, “I apologise Mr Johnson for moving without your permission.”
Good pupils are rewarded
I feel the vibrator return to my swollen vulva and hum back to life, as he says more kindly “Thank you for correcting yourself. Let’s continue, shall we?” Of course his statement is rhetorical, but I find myself uttering “Yes, please Mr Johnson.” He chuckles and reminds me, “this is a test of your control; pass it, and you’ll be rewarded.” For several minutes the vibrations remain at a low continuous frequency, then I hear a click and there is a brief pause before the vibrations continue at an increased speed. Between my legs I feel the warmth and slipperiness emanating in response. My breathing quickens, and Mr Johnson’s thumb and forefinger pinch each of my nipples in turn. I gasp and he instructs me, “focus on the sensation, pay attention to the heat as it radiates through you.”
Something certainly is radiating through me, but it is not just heat. It is pleasurable too. “I’m going to do that again,” Mr Johnson informs me, as he tweaks each engorged nub, and simultaneously increases the vibrator’s frequency. “Wait for my command,” he reiterates. I am practically panting by now, and I desperately need some release. He knows it; he moves the vibrator from side-to-side across my clitoris, and up over the clitoral hood, before tracing it down again.
As he teases me in this way I grip the rings on the pommel horse harder, and see my knuckles glowing white through the flesh that covers them. It seems like I’m on the edge of a precipice, and any second now I could be hurtling over it. I focus my mind on the humming from the vibrator, which keeps me calm. Soon enough, Mr Johnson speaks to me, commanding what I have been waiting for; “You may cum! Now, Ms L!”
At this instruction, my body tenses and the ‘falling over the edge’ sensation catapults me to orgiastic heights. As I feel the pleasure rush through me, my body relaxes and I slump over the pommel horse. “It seems like you have passed this test, Ms L”, but you will have another soon!”
Did you like this short story? If so, perhaps you may like to read The Retreat.
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