Jeannie squeezed her eyes shut, and two tears of frustration trickled onto her cheeks. For some reason, because she knew they couldn’t see her face, it seemed like more of her weak, authentic emotion had emerged at this latest humiliation.
“Naw,” Mike said. Well, at least he hadn’t decided to lie. “I wanted to. I would have, today, if the principal hadn’t walked in.”
Mr. Myers guffawed at that.
“Spread your feet, Miss Rendoski,” said Mr. Davis, cutting the security officer’s laughter short. “I want them a little more than shoulder-width apart.”
“Why?” Jeannie said, doing her best to bring back her careless tone, and looking over her shoulder to try to get the emotions to stop roiling her features.
“Because I said so,” the principal replied, meeting her eyes with the same narrowed glare. “And turn your face forward. If you look at me again you’ll get extra from the paddle.”
To her chagrin, Jeannie’s face burned as she turned it to look again at the classroom wall with the poster of Paris. This was the world language room, where she had actually learned a lot more French than she had ever thought she could.
Michel m’a foutu. Mike fucked me. She felt her lips curl up into a smile, and the hot blush receded for an instant, only to return as she shuffled her bare feet apart on the linoleum. She had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering at the feeling of the air moving against her bare pussy.
She heard footfalls behind her, and she resisted the urge to turn to look. Then she gave a startled yelp because she felt a strong masculine hand on her bare bottom, holding all of it in fingers and palm, squeezing firmly. To her horror, she felt arousal nearly gush into her pussy. Mike hadn’t touched her like that, and she would have sworn—she still would swear—that she didn’t want anyone to touch her like that.
But… It took every ounce of will not to moan, as her hips jerked and her bottom-cheeks pressed against the principal’s grasping, possessive hand.
“Now bend over the desk and keep this pushed out for me,” said Mr. Davis’ voice in her ear.
Chapter 4
On Jake’s video feed, the infrared sensors in the room showed the blazing heat that blossomed in Jeannie’s cheeks at the principal’s touch. Even more notably, the number in the upper right of the close-up of her red face rose to 10, when Davis used the blade of the paddle, now in his left hand, to urge her to bend over. He pressed gently, but the feeling of the polished wood made Jeannie whimper, audibly, as she complied.
She put her elbows on the teacher’s desk as Jake’s view from behind her showed all her most intimate secrets exposed to the view of the three men. Davis pulled his right hand away so that Mike and Mr. Myers could see Jeannie’s pussy and even the adorable pink dimple of her anus, framed in the V of her spread thighs.
The principal took the paddle back into that hand, then returned his left to Jeannie’s naked back, laying it flat atop her waist and pressing firmly.
“Bend your knees, Jeannie,” he said. “Arch your back. I told you I want your bottom offered to me. When I start paddling you, the only strokes that count will be the ones I give while your backside is where it should be.”
Jeannie swallowed hard and very visibly. Jake felt certain she had just successfully pushed a sob of shame and need back down her throat, but tears of humiliation fell to the desk under her bowed face.
“Say, yes, sir, Miss Rendoski,” the principal ordered sharply.
To Jake’s mild surprise, Jeannie managed to speak the words with a measure of defiance.
“Yes, sir!” she said as if a soldier responding to a general’s order, but at the same time putting all the sarcasm possible into the phrase.
Principal Davis chuckled. “If that’s how I can get your obedience, Jean Rendoski, I’ll take it.”
With his hand still on her waist, he brought the blade of the paddle softly against her backside, flat across both little cheeks.
“Get your butt higher,” he commanded. “We’re not going to start until I think you’re ready for your lesson.”
Now Jeannie couldn’t keep the sob down; her back heaved with it as she seemed to grasp what her position truly meant. Mike of course hadn’t had her this way, but the offering of her pussy and bottom to the three men had a sexual element that a girl like Jeannie Rendoski might deny in her thoughts but could never keep at bay in her body.
The 10 in the upper corner of the close-up window flashed, indicating a recalibration: Jeannie had just experienced a level of arousal not previously observed in her since the sensor had started recording her sexual biometrics.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Jake murmured to the bewitching figure of the bent girl. “Give me a clench.”
Principals like Mr. Davis didn’t have comm links implanted the way many of Selecta’s other sexual trainers did, since the erotic awakening of the seniors designated as promising for corporate purposes of one sort or another comprised only a small part of his job. Jake might have told the man to tap the paddle against Jeannie’s bottom, if he had that comm link, but Davis’ instincts served everyone very well—himself, his security officer, young Mike, the distant Jake, and best of all Jeannie Rendoski herself.
The principal did tap her sweet bottom-cheeks with the terrible implement of schoolroom discipline, while his left hand held her firmly against the desk. Jeannie’s pussy did clench, as shown by the spike in her arousal line, and she whimpered audibly at the enticing, wicked sensation.
Myers, just as well trained in Selecta’s EF enhancement program, didn’t miss his cue.
“Listen to that, Mike,” he said. “Jeannie’s getting hot thinking about what happens to little sluts like her.” He called out to Jeannie, raising his voice a bit, “Don’t worry, honey. Advanced Guidance has been authorized for you. You won’t leave here until you get everything you need.”
Jake’s close-up of Mike showed his eyes widening. The senior shifted his weight, obviously trying to adjust the sizable erection that had grown in his pants.
“I’m afraid,” Davis said, his stern voice a contrast with his security officer’s jovial one, “that this isn’t going to feel as nice as having a penis in that little pussy, Jeannie Rendoski.”
He lifted the paddle away from her bottom, so that Mike and Mr. Myers could see the sweet, bare pout of the needy slit to which he had just called such degrading attention. Jeannie bit her lip hard and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Jake could practically see her working to curb her arousal and stay defiant despite her obvious—and, Jake thought, very brave—decision to comply, but to do everything she could to keep her dignity.
“You’ll count the swats, Miss Rendoski,” Davis said coldly, holding the paddle high. Then he brought the heavy blade down hard. The crack of the wood against Jeannie’s backside echoed off the walls of the large classroom in its emptiness. A fierce grunt came from the gritted teeth of the bent girl.
For a moment, before the agony of the first stroke took hold, Jeannie’s arousal rose again, the 10 flashing with another recalibration.
“One,” she said, her voice steady, but rising at the end of the monosyllable because—Jake knew—the pain had grown, almost taking her breath away. Her bottom bounced as she tried to ease the hurt, moving in an involuntarily sexy way.
“Keep that still, Jean Rendoski!” Davis warned. “Or you’ll have extra.” He had lifted the paddle, and now he brought it down again, where the bright pink of the first stroke had just begun to show, the telltale circles of white showing the placement of the blade’s air holes.
Jake knew that it felt to Jeannie that the principal had swung harder this time, because he had struck in nearly the same place where the first swat had fallen. She jerked over the desk, and her grunt had a higher pitch. The tears leaked faster from her shut eyes.
“Two,” she said, her voice wavering a little. Jake could see her knees tremble. Her bottom clenched and unclenched lewdly.
His left hand still on Jeannie’s back, Davis raised the paddle agai
n, but the pain of the second swat had built, and Jeannie’s bottom bounced again as the principal swung the wooden face and connected with a spot just a little lower down and further to the right. The crack rang out in the room.
“Three,” she sobbed, but Davis spoke sharply in contradiction.
“Two, Jeannie. I told you not to move. Say it. Two.”
On Jake’s monitor, Mike swallowed hard. Myers leaned over to murmur in his ear, and the excellent mics in the classroom picked it up.
“Don’t worry, dude. It’s okay to get hard when you see a naughty girl get what she deserves. Especially when she’s nude, and you just fucked her.”
Mike’s eyes went a little wide, but he nodded, glancing over at Myers and clearly grateful for the reassurance.
“Two,” Jeannie said in a voice full of pain and rage. Her arousal had fallen to 6, but Jake knew it would almost certainly fall no further: Davis knew how to pace a paddling to keep the burning conflict in a submissive girl’s pussy banked and ready to blaze up when it should.
“Are you going to keep your backside where it belongs?” the principal asked implacably.
“Yes, sir,” Jeannie said through gritted teeth.
The paddle rose and fell again.
“Three,” Jeannie grunted, an instant after the crack rang out like a gunshot in the classroom. Her bottom-cheeks squirmed a little, but her knees only trembled and her now bright pink backside stayed in place. The circles of the holes had vanished now, as Davis moved the swats up and down and side to side.
He struck again. Jeannie’s “Four” came out as a yelp. Jake noticed her knuckles whitening where she had balled her hands into little fists atop the gray surface of the teacher’s desk.
The paddle went up and came down swiftly, faster than Jeannie expected; Davis clearly meant to take her by surprise. He got the result he sought—Jeannie wailed and lost her composure at the sensation, the gunshot sound, and the agony of her fiery lesson. She threw her hands behind her and tried to straighten up as she desperately rubbed her red bottom-cheeks. Her head turned to the right side, then the left, with an effort to look at the principal, though whether with a plea for mercy or a defiant glare seemed difficult to assess.
“Stay where you are, Jean Rendoski,” Davis said, grimly holding the miscreant in place. “Get those hands in front of you.”
Jeannie managed to regain control of herself quickly, to her credit. She moved her hands back to the desk, and stopped struggling. She bowed her head to look at the desk, where a pool of tears now told of the paddle’s disciplinary effectiveness.
“Five,” she said, through gritted teeth.
“No,” Davis said sharply. “That was four again, for putting your hands on your bottom. But I’m going to make this easier for you, Miss Rendoski. We need to get to the most important part of your lesson—the part that will be more enjoyable for me and Mr. Myers and your young paramour.”
“Wh—” Jeannie formed her lips into the beginning of a question, but the principal delivered part of the answer so quickly that the girl’s words were lost into a scream of agony as she received swats five and six of her punishment in rapid succession. The sharp crack of the heavy paddle rang out, and Jeannie’s bottom danced under its terrible lesson.
Mike’s face, on Jake’s screen, presented a picture of troubled arousal that the experienced Advanced Guidance trainer found rather moving. Myers had crossed his arms across his blue-uniformed chest in satisfaction at his principal’s justice for the naked girl over the desk.
“There,” Davis said, still holding her down as she bounced her backside desperately up and down, trying to make the sting go away. “Now you may rub your bottom, Jeannie.”
The girl started to rise, but the principal didn’t allow it.
“No, Jeannie—stay bent over. You may put one hand back.”
A sob racked the naked girl’s upper body. Her bottom squirmed, accentuating the alluring sight of her bare pussy and the pink whorl of her untried anus. The line showing her skin galvanics jumped on Jake’s monitor, showing that Davis’ humiliating invitation to rub her bottom had awakened her rebellion despite the agony the principal had visited on her young backside. Her arousal, which had in fact fallen all the way to 4 when Davis had delivered the final strokes of the punishment, jumped back up to 6 as the pain dulled and—inevitably, for a girl like Jean Rendoski—its warmth spread forward and became something much more ambiguous.
The element of the scene she had so clearly kept at bay and refused to contemplate nevertheless had an impact all the greater now. Jake, an expert in submissive psychology, could see it even in the way Jeannie’s back arched as she raised her head a little. She thought—Jake knew—she had a decision to make, about whether to take the principal’s lewd suggestion and rub her bare, paddled bottom in front of three men. Really, though, her body had already made that choice.
Jeannie, still held down over the desk where she had decided to have a casual fuck with her boyfriend, her bottom apple red from the punishment that indecency had earned, put her right hand back, to soothe her right cheek on her gentle fingers. She let out an involuntary whimper at the sensation.
Mike, a few feet away, swallowed hard. Jake felt certain the young man had never seen anything so arousing.
“You ready to learn how to fuck a little slut like her?” Myers asked jovially. “Just watch Principal Davis now.”
Chapter 5
For a few moments, Jeannie didn’t understand what Mr. Myers meant. The way the principal replied didn’t help her comprehension much, either.
“Hold on, Mr. Myers,” Mr. Davis said in a joking kind of voice. “We need to inspect her first to make sure she’ll be getting what she needs. Come here, Mike. Take a look at what’s happening between Jeannie’s legs now that she’s gotten her butt paddled. Jeannie, you just keep rubbing. Spread that cheek a bit, so your boyfriend can see your pussy a little better.”
Jeannie bucked under the principal’s left hand. She didn’t have any idea what her body meant to do: straighten up, make his hand go away, or even push out her backside further, so that the three men saw just how much of a slut she could be. Her whole body felt like it had begun to glow, with the warmth centered under her rubbing fingers on her thoroughly paddled bottom and spreading into her pussy so that her clit seemed desperate to press against something—or to have something, like her fingers, press against it.
Without even meaning to, hoping it would look like she was trying to obey Principal Davis, she moved her hand further around her upper thigh, biting back a whimper at the mingled sting and need, to try to touch the tingling nub whose needy signals and sensations took away her reason.
“Don’t you dare touch that clit, Jeannie Rendoski!” Mr. Davis thundered. “Get that hand away, since you can’t keep it where it belongs. I’ll spread those cheeks for you. If I want you to masturbate for us, and show us what a whore you are, I’ll tell you!”
Again her body tried to get away from the restraining grasp atop her waist. A sob broke from her chest and when Jeannie put her right arm back beneath her she used it to help in her attempt to rise.
“I can paddle you again if I have to, Jeannie,” the principal said, his tone now an admonishment rather than an angry threat—as if he could read her mind, and knew Jeannie couldn’t bear the thought of riding the wooden paddle’s seat of fire anymore. She slumped back down, bowing her head, only to find that Principal Davis had meant what he said: Jeannie felt both his hands on her glowing bottom and she cried out as he spread her cheeks in his strong fingers.
Jeannie’s startled yelp became something very different when she realized that the principal’s hands knew how to hold a girl’s well-paddled cheeks so that the need in her pussy grew and grew.
“See, Mr. Barrera?” Mr. Davis said. “Bend down and get a good look at how wet she is. If she’s a good girl for a few moments, we’ll let her play with herself, too, to get ready for the fucking we’re going to give her.”
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“No… oh, no,” Jeannie whispered, hardly even thinking about the words. “Please.”
The principal inhaled audibly through his nose. “Get a whiff of that, too. That’s what a teenaged cunt smells like when a bad girl really needs it. Go ahead and breathe it in.”
Jeannie had lost track of the positions of the men standing behind her, Mike and Mr. Myers. For a moment she thought maybe Mike hadn’t complied with Mr. Davis’ instructions, but then, to her dismay, she felt his breath down there, right on the pussy he had had his hard penis inside, only a few minutes ago. She let out a little whimper she just couldn’t keep down inside her throat as she heard him take a breath through his nose.
“What does that smell like to you, Mike? Like a little slut who needs more cock, even after she got paddled for letting you fuck her, right?”
For a moment Mike didn’t answer.
Come on, Jeannie thought. Stand up to them. She knew Mike didn’t really have much character beyond wanting to seem like a bad boy. She knew that as a bad-boy wannabe he probably felt torn—wouldn’t a bad boy want to share his girlfriend with other men who said they knew how to fuck her the way she deserved?
Did she even want her ‘boyfriend’ to defy the principal and the security officer? Part of her certainly did, though Jeannie felt certain, in the part of her rational mind that still functioned in the midst of her almost-crazed sexual need, that it wouldn’t make any difference. Part of her yearned for some emotional connection, despite also knowing—young though Jeannie herself might be—that Mike Barrera didn’t have the slightest inkling of how to have that kind of relationship.
“Smells good,” Mike said, in a low bad-boy voice that sent electric shivers up and down Jeannie’s body. “Smells like she needs it.”
Jeannie bit her lip hard, and felt her brow crease deeply. Her bottom squirmed in the principal’s tormenting, soothing hands; she couldn’t help it, though she knew she only verified his degrading assumptions about her that way.
When Bad Girls Need More Page 3
