‘Nooo...’ cried Lucy, though with weaker conviction. The next smack bounced off her naked buttocks, eliciting a squeal of pain. The smacks then fell quicker and harder, the sensation piquant against her bare bottom. Lucy closed her eyes and grunted adorably as her chastisement entered into a rhythm. Dr Crawford’s palm rose and fell with the regularity of a metronome, each beat producing a slap against flesh and a cry for clemency. His erection had now become larger and wedged between Lucy’s parted thighs as she struggled under his grip. Without thinking she pushed against it, panting and rubbing up and down its covered length. Dr Crawford began to breath more heavily as Lucy shuffled against his penis, spanking her harder and harder as if to exorcise his growing excitement. Lucy cried out as the smacks became fiercer, her bottom turning a deep cherry-red from the efforts of his relentless palm. She was wet, whether from the spanking or from rubbing against her highly aroused tutor, she neither knew nor cared. Dr Crawford began to grunt along with her, thrashing her naked posterior wildly, his hips jerking upwards to meet Lucy’s.
And then, abruptly, he gave her buttocks a final great slap and tumbled her onto the floor. Surprised and confused, Lucy looked back up to see the lecturer hastily undoing his tented trousers, one hand gripping her shoulder to keep her on the floor.
‘What...?’ she began, but Dr Crawford shifted his grip to the back of her head and pulled her towards him. Surprised and bemused, Lucy opened her mouth to protest, only to have the lecturer press her face into his lap, his erect penis spearing up against her parted lips.
‘Mmmph!’ she exclaimed, overwhelmed by surprise, and tried to pull away, but Dr Crawford clamped her head in both hands and held her in position, thrusting his swollen member fully into her warm moist mouth with one upward stab of his bony hips.
‘Now I want you to suck, Miss Cavendish,’ he wheezed, as if explaining a procedure in logic.
Lucy gagged and tried again to withdraw, but Dr Crawford held her firmly. She breathed through her nose, her mouth filled with his penis, and looked up at him with wide pleading eyes. He was gazing down on her with approval - she was certainly an exceedingly delightful sight, her spanked bottom in the air as she knelt between his knees with his rigid cock impaling her mouth and stretching her lips apart.
Slowly, he began to move, his penis grazing against the roof of her mouth. It was gnarled and wet, bursting with a taut, potent energy. There was no escape, so with her initial shock fading, Lucy ran an exploratory tongue around the tip of it, and as if a signal had been given, Dr Crawford released his heavy grip on her head. Fascinated by the taste and sensation, she gave a tentative suck. Dr Crawford let slip a gasp of pleasure, and Lucy felt his penis pulse in response. She put her hands on his spread thighs to steady herself, knelt up properly, and began to move her lips up and down on his length. The lecturer sighed, sat back, and relaxed.
‘That’s a good girl,’ he sighed contentedly.
Lucy, consumed by curiosity, began to play with his penis, flicking her tongue against the glans, then swallowing the shaft whole, sucking and pulling at the engorged member. It was an experience wholly new to her, but not, as it turned out, wholly unpleasant. The flesh had a salty taste, slick with moisture, but there was something thrilling about taking it in her mouth. She felt deliciously degraded, kneeling in her socks with her knickers stripped from her, performing fellatio on her tutor as the morning sun drifted through the wide window. She started to experiment, teasing and circling with her tongue.
Then suddenly she felt a strap lash her bottom from above and she cried out in pain, her distress muffled by the column of flesh plugging her mouth. She looked up at Dr Crawford with a pained expression, only to see him brandishing his belt in his right hand.
‘You’re learning how to please me, Lucy,’ he said in a severe tone, ‘but you’re not fully trained yet. Concentrate on what you’re doing or I’ll strap you again.’
The belt had left a hot stripe of red down her right thigh. She gave his penis a suck again, diligently swallowing as the mixture of saliva and his pre-come threatened to escape from between her tightly clamped lips. She shifted position on her knees a little, moving her head up and down, gently using her tongue to pleasure him. Her head bobbed, her ponytail moving endearingly as she worked diligently on her tutor. Dr Crawford relaxed again, letting his fingers run through her hair as she performed for him. Ever and anon he whipped her with the belt if she let her concentration drift. It was as if she were a household pet, being trained to pleasure her master and punished if she transgressed. As she laboured in his lap her knees inched wider apart on the carpet, and a couple of times the end of Dr Crawford’s belt curled right up between her thighs as he whipped her with it, sending shivers of painful delight radiating through her body. She could feel herself moist with shameful excitement, her fingers gripping his tweed jacket as she obediently sucked him.
Then, as she worked and pulled and teased his rigid penis, she felt the quick and urgent spasms of climax stir. Dr Crawford’s breath began to quicken and his fingers clawed ever tighter into her hair, and she worked with increased intensity on the throbbing flesh embedded deep between her lips. The lecturer stiffened on his seat, moaning from pent-up excitement. Quicker and quicker the belt rose and fell, strapping Lucy’s bottom as if he were goading a horse to the finish. Spurred on by the belt Lucy tried even harder, milking his turgid cock with her mouth and tongue, almost trying to swallow it whole. She was consumed with the idea of bringing him off, of making him come in her mouth, of dutifully swallowing his sperm, of being his perfect student.
Dr Crawford pressed on the back of her head with his left hand while strapping her with his right, his penis taut and primed to burst between her lips. For agonising seconds they rutted together, her head oscillating between his thighs, the belt rising and falling to chastise her all the while.
Then, it happened. With a growl of release Dr Crawford thrust his humid groin into her face, clamped her head down powerfully, and shot a stream of hot creamy come deep into her throat. She instinctively swallowed, slurping desperately as the pulsing column erupted again and filled her mouth a second time, a little of his issue seeping from the corner of her stretched lips.
Then it was over and he flopped back into the sofa. His grip in her hair slipped away, he breathed deeply with his eyes closed, and his wilting penis slipped from between her moist lips as the belt dropped to the floor. Lucy swallowed the last of the heady cocktail, and shakily wiped the drop of salty brew from her chin. Her whipped bottom had begun to throb a little - she had scarcely noticed the pain from the strapping as her excitement had increased, but now it returned to salience. She knelt where she was on the floor, between his thighs, waiting for instructions. Dr Crawford looked immensely satisfied, and smiled at her.
‘Dr Tovey told me you might benefit from a little chastisement, Miss Cavendish,’ he told her. ‘It was reported that you respond extremely well to punishment, and I find myself having to agree with him.’
So that was it - Dr Tovey had told him about the night in his office. Lucy cringed inwardly, wondering how many other members of staff had been informed of her particular tendencies. She began to feel cold again, and distinctly ill at ease in the presence of her gloating tutor.
‘Thank you, Dr Crawford,’ she said politely, trying hard to hide her distaste for the man. ‘But may I go now? I have a piano lesson to attend shortly.’
Dr Crawford nodded. ‘Yes, Miss Cavendish,’ he said. ‘It would not be good to keep your music mistress waiting, I’m told. I think you have been amply punished for your failure to hand in the required work - I’m sure I can have a word with the relevant authorities in that regard. Pick up your clothes; you may go now.’
Lucy stood up gingerly and slipped her underwear and jeans back on. Why had she worn jeans again? The coarse denim rubbed against her punished backside mercilessly. She winced as she zipped up t
he fly.
‘Thank you, Dr Crawford,’ she said again. ‘I shall try harder in future.’
Dr Crawford sniggered, doing up his trousers as well. ‘I look forward to your efforts already,’ he said, with evident relish and intent.
As she made her way to Miss Martin’s house, Lucy looked down at her watch. It was ten past four. She raised her eyes to heaven. After leaving Dr Crawford’s study she had feverishly tried to learn her music theory for the test she knew was coming, but time had been against her. Now she was running late. Her poor bottom still throbbed from the thrashing Dr Crawford had given her, and she knew she would not be able to bear a spanking from Miss Martin. What was she to do? There was no point in not going; then Jenny would have won and all her practise would have been in vain. So she hurried along, trying to ignore the pain in her nether regions as well as the lingering sense of Dr Crawford in her mouth. She had plumbed the depths of depravity this time, and no mistake.
When she arrived at the door Jenny let her in with a wide grin. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Cavendish,’ she smirked.
‘Hello, Jenny,’ said Lucy, too worried even to be annoyed by her attitude. She brushed past her and went quickly to the fitting room. Her mind flashing back to her humiliation the previous week, she stripped naked and changed entirely. The light cotton underwear was actually rather cooling against her tender flesh, and the light skirt and sheer blouse allowed the fragrant air of Miss Martin’s house to circulate against her skin. Such pleasures, though, were overridden by her anxiety at being so late.
Hurriedly doing up her tie, she trotted down the hall to the drawing room, glancing at her watch as she went. It was nearly half-past. Sensing Jenny’s malicious presence behind her on the stairs, Lucy took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
There was a long, stomach-churning pause; Miss Martin was clearly keeping her waiting. Lucy began to get truly nervous then as her fluster left her. The heavy tick from the grandfather clock was full of foreboding, and the very air seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. Lucy knew she would be punished again, and swallowed nervously.
At last the cold voice of her mistress rang out from behind the implacable wood.
‘Come!’
Lucy took the handle and entered, pursued by a muffled chuckle from the stairs.
Miss Martin turned to face her as she walked in, a look of cold anger on her exquisite face. She was standing in the window, the sun streaming into the room from behind her. Her heels clicked as she walked slowly over to her desk. She held a light wand in her hands, which she flicked against her thighs as she went. Only on closer inspection could Lucy see it was some kind of crop, embellished with a slight tassel at its point, but slim and mean looking along the rest of its black length. An unpleasant nervous tickling stirred in her stomach. She didn’t dare speak, but stood waiting for her mistress to address her. Miss Martin seemed to be searching for the right words, and paced slowly back to the window, her skirt clinging tightly to her elegant stockinged thighs. She turned around again, and fixed Lucy with a dark stare.
‘Oh dear,’ she said simply, with a telling coolness.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ blurted Lucy, beginning to panic a little. ‘I was with my tutor, and...’
Miss Martin silenced her with an acid look.
‘Lucy,’ she said calmly, ‘I am not interested in what your tutor had to do with you.’
Lucy bowed her head in shame. Miss Martin had a way of making her feel subordinate with just a glance. The piano teacher gazed out of the window, playing absently with the crop in her hands.
‘What time are your lessons, Lucy?’ she said curtly, fluffing the tassel a little with her fingers.
‘Four o’clock, miss,’ Lucy said miserably.
‘I see,’ said Miss Martin. ‘And what time do you think it is now?’
Lucy stared at her feet, black buckle-shoes over white ankle socks. ‘I don’t know, miss,’ she mumbled.
‘It is nearly half-past. Over half the lesson has gone. What do you have to say for yourself?’
Lucy began to blush. ‘I’m sorry, miss,’ she said.
Miss Martin frowned. ‘You’re sorry?’ she said. ‘Of course you are. You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?’
Lucy nodded, her ears turning red as usual.
Miss Martin sighed. ‘There just seems no getting through to you,’ she said wearily. ‘Right, get your clothes off, girl.’
Lucy started. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said.
Miss Martin lowered her eyes, swishing the crop through the air in a warning swipe. ‘You turn up here half an hour late and question me?’ she hissed acidly. ‘You don’t deserve to wear the uniform Jenny has prepared for you. Take it off now, or I’ll give you the whipping of your life.’
Lucy’s bottom still smarted from her strapping in Dr Crawford’s office, so she started to do as she was told. ‘Can I go and get my other clothes, miss?’ she said weakly, undoing her tie and taking her shoes off.
‘Certainly not,’ Miss Martin snapped, standing over her as she undressed, with her legs slightly parted, the crop tapping lightly against her folded arms. ‘You’ve already wasted enough time today. You’ll do your lesson naked, and perhaps that will teach you the value of punctuality.’
Chastened, Lucy undid her blouse and discarded it, before taking off her skirt. She folded the clothes neatly to avoid further remonstration, and stood before Miss Martin in her underwear. She knew there was no real hope of being allowed to keep her bra and knickers on, but she lingered before taking them off, a pleading expression on her face. Sunlight streamed through the window, and she suddenly realised how visible the interior of the room was from the street outside. Miss Martin cast her eyes over the large bay and smiled, noticing the same thing. She went over to it and tugged the curtains back even further before coming back to Lucy.
‘What are you waiting for, Lucy?’ she snapped. ‘I want those panties off now.’
Lucy’s eyes flickered to the vicious looking crop her mistress wielded, and she decided it was best not to protest. Grudgingly, she took her underwear off, pulling her knickers down last. Then she stood completely naked, her ankles together and her hands by her sides. Miss Martin looked long and hard at her, admiring the sight. She wandered around her, tapping the crop against her palm as she went. Completely exposed, the hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck rose as she was inspected, but she remained still, her eyes lowered.
‘My, my,’ said Miss Martin, pausing to inspect her rear. ‘It looks like you’ve been a naughty girl already, Lucy. Someone else has chastised you ever so severely.’
Lucy groaned inwardly. She knew her bottom was still criss-crossed with marks from her earlier punishment, and then she felt the ticklish touch of the crop, lightly caressing the curve of her buttocks and thighs. She shivered, waiting for the first bite. But Miss Martin was merely playing with her, and the feathered tormentor fluttered against her flesh, causing ripples of frustrated anticipation. Miss Martin tutted.
‘Very haphazard,’ she remarked disapprovingly. ‘Maybe you were wriggling too much. I’d have tied you up, perhaps.’
Her sibylline voice began to seep into Lucy’s mind, and she felt herself succumbing to that warm sensation of submission that only her mistress engendered in her. The crop teased her, tracing lines around her tender buttocks and flicking briefly between her legs. Lucy tried to concentrate, looking straight ahead as she was toyed with.
Miss Martin stopped then, and walked around Lucy until she faced her. She took one of her breasts absently in her hand, running a gloved finger around her nipple. Lucy was sent into a whirl of excitement, but somehow managed to remain motionless, her fists clenched. Miss Martin’s fragrance hung in her nostrils, and she found herself moistening rapidly as the piano teacher lazily cupped her bare breast lightly in her palm.
‘It seems that somebody else had to teach you a few manners,’ Miss Martin said coolly. ‘I wonder how many others have had to give you a spanking to get you to behave?’
From the corner of her eye, Lucy could see shapes moving against the window. Jenny must be in the front garden, she reasoned. Miss Martin gently pulled her nipple, causing her to wince with pleasure. Her knuckles were white from being so tightly clenched.
‘But anyway,’ said Miss Martin, releasing her nipple and standing back, ‘I think you’ve been beaten enough for one day. You shall do the rest of your lesson naked as punishment for coming late, but I do not wish to hurt you too much by giving you the whipping you deserve. Stand in the window and we shall begin your theory test.’
For a minute Lucy thought Miss Martin was being lenient with her, and she relaxed inwardly in the knowledge she would not be chastised. Then she turned to the window and let slip a cry of dismay. Half a dozen people had gathered on the front lawn and were looking keenly through the window, obviously enjoying what they saw. Lucy quickly bent down and scrabbled for her clothes to cover up, blushing madly, but Miss Martin laughed and quickly swatted her with the crop.
‘Ow!’ cried Lucy, dropping her clothes again and clutching her bottom.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ Miss Martin admonished gaily. ‘I don’t care what my neighbours are doing - and it’s none of your concern either. You will stand in the window and do your theory practise. Is that clear?’
Lucy looked back and forth between the faces in the window and the stern visage of her mistress. Her bottom burned from the crop, but she couldn’t face doing what she was told and standing just the other side of a pane of glass from a group of voyeurs witnessing her humiliation. She hesitated, instinctively backing towards the door, covering her more intimate parts with her hands.
‘I can’t, miss,’ she said weakly.
Miss Martin laughed again, and called for Jenny. In a trice, as if she had been waiting outside for that very opportunity, the maid appeared.
The Piano Teacher Page 12
