The Flute Teacher and the White Cotton Panties

by Emma St Giles

  And then, at the end of the hour, I would return to the bathroom, change back into my normal clothes and walk the fifteen minutes back home again, with a sore bottom and either my panties sticky with his semen as it leaked out of me or my mouth still tasting of him.

  I suppose that things might have continued like that until the end of the holidays. And I would have returned to college with a well spanked bottom, a well fucked pussy and a much improved proficiency on the flute.

  But I’d forgotten about Dean. I had accepted how being disciplined and fucked by my flute teacher had changed me. For the moment, at least, I had become more interested in taking my pleasure by pleasuring a man, whether by presenting my bottom for spanking or by fucking or sucking a demanding penis—to my surprise I was rather enjoying being submissive to a man’s desires. It made me feel feminine. But I soon realised that Dean didn’t see it that way.

  I had started caning him as a game, a game that I’d discovered I was good at and which I had enjoyed—really enjoyed. But I hadn’t reckoned on the permanent affect my beatings would have on him. In the weeks following the start of my relationship with Mr Conway, I thought I was everything a boy in his late teens could have dreamed of. Rather than dampening the fire of my sexuality, my adventures were adding fuel to it. I was coming home feeling so horny it was all I could not to masturbate as I walked down the street. And Dean was the beneficiary. Every opportunity I had I was either sucking his cock, sitting on his cock, or lying on my back with my legs wide apart while he pumped his cock into me with powerful thrusts of his hips. And afterwards, we’d lie there, naked in each other’s arms, our sweat drying on our bodies.

  *****

  It was the Friday, almost three weeks later. The day had started with a particularly hard spanking, after which I’d sat on my flute teacher’s penis, my school skirt up around my waist. Then when I got home, and after I’d cleaned all traces of Mr Conway from my pussy, I spent an hour playing with Dean’s organ, stroking and teasing him until he was frantic with desire. I’d kept him waiting, and waiting some more, and then I’d climbed up onto his bed on my hands and knees, and I’d let him fuck me from behind. I’d made sure the curtains in his bedroom were shut before I had pulled down my panties. Otherwise I was sure he would have noticed the bright red hand marks on my usually flawless rear cheeks.

  Afterwards we lay there, temporarily satisfied. I ran a finger down Dean’s back, gently tracing the line of his spine. And then further downwards, letting it trail across his bottom. The ridges and welts from the severe canings I’d given him were still there, but they were healing nicely. He didn’t even flinch at my touch.

  ‘Nice bottom,’ I whispered.

  ‘Mmm.’ He shifted slightly in my arms. ‘Why have you stopped caning me?’ he asked, trying to make the question sound casual.

  ‘Don’t you like the new me?’ I replied. I moved my hand from his bottom, taking hold of his limp penis, and I started gently stroking his shaft. Almost immediately he started stiffening. ‘Don’t you like the attentive girlfriend, ready to satisfy your every desire?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do.’ He paused, as if he was trying to trying to think of a way to say something. ‘I do . . . but . . . I miss the cane,’ he finished in a rush.

  ‘Oh.’ We lay there in silence. I shifted in the bed and moved my arm, so I could bring my other hand to bear on his penis as well. Under my ministrations he moaned through gritted teeth and he arched his back slightly. ‘You see,’ I said, as I worked on him. ‘There are benefits to the new girlfriend.’

  ‘Yes,’ he groaned, and a few seconds later he stiffened, and sticky, grey semen spurted from his cock for the second time in less than thirty minutes. ‘But I want you to cane me,’ he cried in desperation as it poured out of him.

  Chapter 6 – Sister Sex

  ‘I want you to cane me.’ That is what he’d said. And it hadn’t stopped there. Driven by the desperation of his situation, the floodgates opened. We lay there, naked and alone, as if we were the only people in the universe, and he told me everything. How finding me in his bedroom, wearing nothing but my black bra and panties, Jacinta’s black leather boots, and holding a cane, had ignited the most exciting fantasy he had ever experienced. And how each time I’d used the cane on him, the agony had mingled and mixed with the excitement, until he could think of nothing but total submission to me, his mistress.

  ‘I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you,’ I said. ‘I’d hoped the caning and the orgasms would condition you, and it looks like they have. But I should have thought about what I was doing.’ As I said it though, it occurred to me that I wasn’t really sorry, more turned on by the feeling of power.

  He hugged me. ‘But that’s it, I don’t mind though. I just want to be your slave . . . Mistress. It’s the most exciting feeling in the world, that second when I’m waiting for the cane to land across my bottom.’

  I sat up in bed, letting the sheet fall away from my naked breasts. ‘Get out of bed,’ I ordered. He jumped up and stood expectantly next to the bed. To my amazement, his cock was stiffening again. ‘Now, kneel down.’ I pointed at the floor. He dropped to his knees. I looked around, and then I walked across the room and pulled the cord from his bathrobe, which was hanging on the back of the door. ‘Hands behind your back.’ I crossed his hands at the wrists and quickly tied them with the cord. Next I pulled the leather belt from his trousers, which were lying in an untidy heap on the floor, and I tied it tightly around his ankles. Finally, I went over to the wardrobe, where only a few weeks before I’d been discovered at the moment this all started. I came back with a green and red silk tie. I picked up my panties, which were on the floor next to his trousers, and scrunched them up into a ball. ‘Open your mouth,’ I snapped. I pushed them into his mouth, imagining the salty taste of my bodily fluids tickling and stinging his tongue, his body helplessly controlled by my female pheromones. Finally, I tied the tie around his head, as tightly as I could, gagging him and making it impossible for him to spit out my dirty undies.

  I took a step back and admired my handiwork. He was helpless. ‘Good,’ I smiled. I got dressed—the denims felt rough as I pulled them on over my naked bottom. ‘You know, it’s your fault that I don’t have any panties to wear,’ I told him. ‘You’re going to get an extra caning for that.’ His eyes widened and a muffled sound came from behind the gag. Without warning, I brought my hand around and slapped him hard across the face. ‘Don’t try to talk,’ I said. ‘Why do you think you’ve got a mouthful of my underwear, you fool.’ He looked at me, a tear trickling down his face, but he’d learned his lesson—he made no further noises.

  ‘Good. You see, you can learn.’ I headed for the door. ‘Now wait here until I get back.’

  ‘And I suppose we’d better hope that your mother doesn’t get back before I do,’ I called over my shoulder as I went down the stairs. I didn’t think there was any chance of that, I wasn’t planning on being long, but I thought the fear would be good for him.

  *****

  I found Jacinta sitting back on the settee in our living room, reading a book. She was wearing a short skirt and the same knee length, black leather boots that I’d stolen from her bedroom the first time that I’d played at being a femdom. She had crossed one leg over the other, revealing a smooth expanse of perfect, white thigh.

  ‘Hi Sis, what’s new?’ she asked, glancing up from the book. It was “Anne of Green Gables.” Somehow the wholesome story didn’t seem to go with the skirt and the boots.

  I took a deep breath. It was now or never. Ask for help or forget it. I nearly turned and left the room again. Instead I sat down next to her. ‘I’ve got a problem,’ I said, simply.

  ‘Oh.’ She placed the book carefully, face down, on the settee. ‘You’d better tell me then.’

  So I told her. She already knew a lot about what I was doing with Mr Conway, but she had no idea about Dean. I told her everything, from being caught semi-naked in his wardrobe wearing her boots, to th
e beatings I’d been giving him.

  ‘Sounds great. But what’s the problem?’ she asked.

  I stared at the wall and tried to find a way to explain. ‘I love being a femdom,’ I began. ‘I love the feeling of power it gives me over men. And I only started the thing with Mr Conway because I was doing too much damage to Dean’s bottom.’

  ‘Yep?’ she said in encouragement, uncrossing and recrossing her booted legs.

  I continued. ‘But the uniform thing and the spankings have made me start to feel submissive, and I can’t be Dean’s mistress if I’m a sub myself, can I.’

  ‘Ah,’ now I see, she said. ‘And which one is the real you?’

  I didn’t need to think about this one. ‘The dominatrix. I love the idea of dominating men. But the flute lesson thing just got out of control and now I don’t know how to get things right again.’

  ‘Interesting,’ she said in a thoughtful voice. ‘Let me think.’

  I looked at the antique clock on the mantelpiece. ‘And I left Dean stripped and tied up in his bedroom when I came to see you,’ I said. ‘With an erection. And his mother’s going to come home at some point.’

  With a slight creak of leather she jumped up from the settee. ‘Right, let’s go and set him free. And I’ll think of something while we’re doing it.’

  ‘You don’t have to come with me,’ I said as we headed for the door.

  ‘I know, but I’ve always wanted to see how big Dean’s cock is,’ she replied.

  ‘It’s big,’ I assured her.

  Dean was exactly where I had left him, trussed up and naked on his bedroom floor. His penis was still standing up like a flagpole, evidence of just how exciting being tied up by me was for him, and perhaps the affect my dirty panties were having in his mouth. When Jacinta walked in behind me, his eyes widened in surprised disbelief and his face reddened with embarrassment, but I couldn’t help noticing how his cock twitched and throbbed even more.

  ‘You’re right, it is big,’ Jacinta said, assessing his organ with a practiced eye. ‘Come on, let’s get him to his feet.’ Between us we got Dean up and he stood there, still bound and helpless.

  ‘Right, I’ve got an idea for dealing with your little problem,’ she said. ‘We’d better untie him and then get back home and talk.’ She looked at his cock again, and then gestured towards it. ‘May I?’ she asked me politely, as if it was my property, which I supposed it was.

  ‘Help yourself.’

  She got down on her haunches next to him and took his organ in an assured and obviously expert hand. The hand moved up and down his shaft in a regular, pumping movement. ‘I love milking cocks,’ she said. She knew what she was doing. Within seconds he started letting out muffled moans from behind the gag and his knees started quivering. The hand got faster, until it was moving up and down him in a blur. He came like a fire hydrant, his semen spurting across the room. When he’d finished, she finished him off with a series of long, slow movements, getting out every last drop.

  Afterwards, we untied his hands and let him collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Then we left.

  Back home we went back into the living room. Anne of Green Gables was lying where she’d been left. Jacinta sat down on the settee. She looked at her hand and held it up for me to see. Something was glistening on her palm. ‘That’s a bit clumsy, I’ve got some of his cum on me,’ she said. She lifted her hand to her mouth and licked it off. She nodded, like a connoisseur of fine wine. ‘Nice,’ she said. She patted the settee next to her. ‘Now sit down, Sister, and I’ll tell you how you are going to rediscover the dominatrix inside you.’

  Chapter 7 – Extreme Domination, Sister Style

  My next flute lesson wasn’t until Monday, and the weekend passed in a mixture of excitement and nerves. Part of me thought that it couldn’t come soon enough, and the other part hoped that it would never come at all. But it did, and I woke up on Monday morning and a little thrill ran through me. It was time.

  At ten o’clock sharp I walked up the path to Mr Conway’s front door. It was unlatched and swung open at my touch. Inside the house was quiet. I knew that he would be waiting in the music room, waiting for me to change into my uniform and into the fantasy that we had created inside these walls. I shut the door behind me, leaving it unlatched, and then I headed for the bathroom.

  Five minutes later I knocked respectfully on the music room door and entered. He was standing by his desk and his eyes roamed over my body. ‘Ah, Antigone. I trust you have been practicing over the weekend?’

  I dropped my bag inside the door, placed my flute carefully on the music stand and sank down on my knees in front of him. ‘Yes sir,’ I said, as I undid his belt, and his trousers and unzipped him.

  ‘Antigone, what are you doing? This is supposed to be a flute lesson.’ This wasn’t the way the fantasy usually played out, and he was confused. His trousers fell to his knees and in one quick movement I freed his already hardened penis from his underpants. As a reply to his question my mouth closed on him and I ran my lips up and down his shaft a couple of times to get his attention. He gasped as the charge of electric pleasure lit up his world. Before he had a chance to recover, I undid his shirt buttons and pulled it off him, then I helped him step out of his trousers and guided his naked body over to the settee.

  ‘Lie face down, I’ve got a very special surprise for you today,’ I said, in a husky voice. He hesitated, so I stroked his manhood a few times. ‘Please sir,’ I said. He swallowed and then lay down. ‘Now shut your eyes and don’t move,’ I said. After checking to make sure he had obeyed me, I returned briefly to my bag. Returning to the settee I ran a fingernail down his back, down into the crack between his buttock. His body jerked as my nail reached his balls.

  ‘Good.’ I knelt next to the settee and guided his unresisting arms behind his back. I spoke to him in what I hoped was a calm, soothing voice, although my heart was hammering inside me. ‘That’s it, keep your eyes tight shut sir, and you’ll get your surprise, very soon.’

  There was a click, closely followed by a second click—a pair of bright, shiny, new looking handcuffs were secured snugly around his wrists. As his eyes snapped open, I slipped a noose ready tied at the end of a length of thick, white rope over his feet. One quick pull and it tightened around his ankles.

  He started struggling to get up, but I pushed him back down onto the settee with a firm hand in the small of his back. ‘Stay there. There’s no way for you to get out of the cuffs even if you do manage to get up.’

  He looked at me. For a moment I felt sorry for what I was about to do to him. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered. ‘But it has to be this way.’ He opened his mouth, to plead with me or to order me to release him, but at that moment the music room door opened and Jacinta walked in.

  I had to admit that a school uniform suited her. Like me, she was dressed in a short, blue checked shirt, white blouse and brown sandals. The only difference was that her white socks were knee length, whereas mine were round my ankles. The buttons on her blouse were all undone, and her large breasts were straining to escape from their confines.

  ‘Hello Mr Conway, remember me?’ she asked in a bright, happy voice.

  ‘Jacinta,’ he said in a quivering voice.

  ‘Yep. Expect I’ve grown a bit since you last saw me,’ she said, pushing her breasts out. From the way he was staring at them I thought she was probably right. ‘I even found one of my old school bras,’ she said to me. ‘Bit tight though.’

  She came over and sat down on the floor next to him. Her skirt rode up, giving me a good view of her white thong. ‘I expect you’re wondering why we’re all here,’ she said, in a conversational tone. ‘You see,’ she continued, ‘when you and my sister were messing around together, what you didn’t realise is that you were playing with a femdom.’

  ‘A femdom?’ he repeated in an uncertain voice, looking over at me.

  ‘Yes, a femdom. She dominates men. That’s what she does. And now it’s your turn,’ sai
d Jacinta. She stood up in one smooth movement. ‘May as well get on with it.’

  *****

  ‘What . . . What are you going to do to me?’ he asked, his voice trembling and unsure, and excited. As he spoke I could see him pulling at the handcuffs, testing their strength. Jacinta left the room for a second. She returned carrying a cane. It was long and narrow, and it had a curved handle at one end—a school cane.

  When he realised what was about to happen to him, he started struggling and shaking his head. ‘I demand that you let me up, right . . .’

  SNAP. His demand was cut off by a cry of pain as Jacinta gave him a stroke across his bare cheeks. A thin, white line appeared, which faded. As I watched, the line started reappearing as a an angry red welt. ‘Every time you talk I’ll give you a stroke of the cane. Understand?’ He nodded, but didn’t try to say anything. ‘You know, I think I can see why you like doing this,’ she said to me. She handed me the cane. ‘Come on, let’s get him onto his knees, then you can give him a proper thrashing.’ Between us we pulled him off the settee, and kneeling in front of it. ‘Head down, arse in the air,’ Jacinta ordered, pushing the back of his head. Reluctantly, he obeyed.

  I flexed the cane between my hands. It easily bent almost double and then snapped back into shape when I let go of the end. This was a serious cane and I started getting excited, thinking about the damage I’d be able to do to his bottom.

  I took up my position behind and to the side of Mr Conway, and I laid the cane across his now quivering and expectant cheeks. Jacinta put a hand on my arm. ‘Hold on. Why don’t we get naked before you thrash him.

  ‘All right.’ The thought of being naked with my sister excited me some more. I placed the cane next to Mr Conway, and we undressed in silence. It had been years since I had seen Jacinta’s naked body, and as she pulled off her school uniform, and unhooked her much too right, school bra, I watched in interest. Her breasts were certainly a lot larger than mine, full and firm with the pertness that comes from being eighteen years old. To my surprise though, her nipples were smaller than mine—erect, rosy pink little saucers that looked absolutely perfect on her. She noticed my attention and smiled as she pulled down her thong. Her pussy was small and neat, and just as perfectly shaved as mine was.