‘You don’t know how to think,’ he points out firmly, ‘that’s why you’re here. Sit down. If you knew how to think, or even just how to add up a simple column of figures, you wouldn’t be here.’
Still wearing my raincoat, I resume my seat feeling foolish and confused. My stomach churns as I smooth down my cotton skirt. Normally I don’t wear skirts, but in small print on the back of the summons was written wear a skirt to the punishment.
‘You have your voucher?’
I pull it out of my right pocket, a ticket stub like the kind you get at the movies, only it was the guard downstairs at the iron arch who gave me this. I lean forward to hand it to him, but then place it awkwardly on the desk beside the folder when he makes no move to accept it.
‘Your statement.’ It is not a question; it is a command given an impatient edge by what almost sounds like boredom.
I turn in the chair, and pull one of the pocket’s of my raincoat inside-out in my haste to extract a yellow slip of paper. I quickly place it on the desk just inside the circle of light, nervously smoothing its crumpled edges for him.
‘Don’t fuss,’ he snaps.
I snatch my hand back as though scalded by his cold voice.
He leans back in his chair, slips a cigarette out of a pack lying just outside the halo of light, and brings it to life with the hot blue flame of a silver lighter. Smoke streams out from between his lips as he asks, ‘Cigarette?’
I swallow nervously, and shake my head.
‘Oh, go on...’ he urges mildly, ‘go on...’
I smile weakly.
‘You know you want to,’ he adds, staring into my eyes.
I lean forward, and reach tentatively for the pack.
He slaps my hand back. ‘Bad girl. Two more demerits.’ He picks up a pen with his free hand and makes a note in my file.
I gasp, ‘But you...’
‘“Lead us not into temptation”,’ he quotes without looking up. ‘It’s your job to make sure you don’t get led astray. I can’t always be there looking out for you.’
I glance around the room. I don’t see any paddles, or any other instruments of correction, and I wonder what he is going to punish me with.
Dropping the pen, he deliberately knocks some ash onto the floor. ‘Pick that up for me,’ he says.
My eyebrows arch questioningly.
‘Pick that up for me,’ he repeats. ‘Are you deaf?’
I get up, walk around the desk, and then sink down onto my hands and knees to scoop some of the ashes up onto my fingertips.
‘Use this.’ He hands me the statement of my demerits.
I run the edge of the paper beneath the ashes, and flick them into the wastebasket beside the desk.
‘Good,’ he says, ‘very good. Now take off your coat.’
My knees feel weak as I stand up and the blood rushes to my head. He is so close, only a hand’s length away. I start unbuttoning my raincoat.
He follows my fingers with his eyes, moving down from one button to another as he raises the cigarette to his lips, and lowers it again, blowing the smoke away from me so as not to obscure his view. He is staring at my breasts, which are visible now between the flaps of my coat, and I feel myself blushing. I am standing before him in a short skirt, flat shoes, gym socks and nothing else, all according to the warrant, which clearly states, no shirt and no panties, nothing between skin and the outer shell at punishment.
‘Go on,’ he says patiently.
I turn around slowly, feeling his eyes on my bare skin as I shrug the stiff material off my shoulders. The cool air caresses my back where I’ve been perspiring between my shoulder blades against the silk lining. My skirt rides up slightly beneath a gentle electric current of static-cling as I slip the coat off completely, and take a few steps away from the desk to hang it on a hook behind the door.
‘Now turn around.’
I fight the urge to cross my arms over my naked breasts as I turn to face him again.
‘Put your hands behind your back.’
Standing perfectly still, I obey him, staring at his face while he studies my breasts.
‘Eyes straight ahead,’ he commands.
I reluctantly look away from his intent expression.
‘Shoulders square and legs at ease,’ he elaborates tersely.
I pull my shoulders back, and feel my soft mounds thrust up and out as I do so. My nipples are already hard from the prolonged weight of his eyes.
‘Good,’ he says approvingly. ‘Now, come here.’
I focus on him again as he puts his cigarette out in a glass ashtray, casually crushing the butt beneath his thumb.
‘Come sit right here where I can look at you.’ He pushes his chair back.
There is no mistaking where he means, and I am surprised by my own lack of hesitation as I go and perch on the edge of the desk in front of him.
‘Sit on it.’
I lift my bum carefully up onto the hard surface, but I cannot keep from rustling some papers in the process, and then shyly cross my arms over my bare breasts again.
‘Hands on your head,’ he says sternly, ‘and don’t crease the statements you’re sitting on or that’ll be more demerits added to your tab.’
I raise my arms and plant my hands on my head. I am squeezed between him and the edge of the desk, my skirt almost brushing his black trousers.
He looks up at my face and then down at my lap, and I spread my thighs apart so his legs can come forward under the desk and close the gap between us without touching. I am sitting on a man’s desk in a very small room, naked except for a skirt that ends just above my knees, with my legs spread wide.
‘Let me just make sure you understand.’ He leans forward so I feel his breath on my skin as he speaks. ‘The system mandates that charges incurred and not met require that each separate erogenous zone be punished in increasingly intimate steps according to the scale of the debt. Because you have acquired so many debits,’ he glances briefly down at the pink statements lying between my thighs, ‘you are obliged to come bare-breasted and wearing nothing beneath your skirt. Am I right?’
I nod, feeling light-headed.
‘So, with this many demerits outstanding, I get to do this...’ He reaches up and grabs my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I get to massage it, and press it...’
I gasp as he pinches my nipple.
‘I get to pull it...’ He tugs on it gently, and I find myself bending forward towards his mouth as his other hand comes up to touch my right breast. I recoil, because for some reason I am not ready for this yet, but he grasps my whole breast firmly, holding my body in place as his mouth reaches my left nipple. Still gripping it between his fingers, he tongues the very tip of it.
‘Oh!’ I cry softly.
He takes his hand off my right breast as my body leans willingly into his mouth, and his tongue orbits my tense nipple for a few more seconds before he suddenly sits back. ‘I can also explore your oral reflexes.’ His right hand caresses the side of my neck on its way up, and his fingers lightly stroke my cheek before he presses his thumb against my mouth.
Moaning stubbornly, I keep my lips sealed.
Very gently, he bites my nipple.
‘Oh!’ I exclaim again, and his thumb slips into my mouth. I close my eyes and suck on it blindly, not understanding my reaction but not really questioning it either.
‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, and we sit there with his mouth working on my firm nipple and my tongue working on his hard thumb until he suddenly pulls it out and pushes his chair back. My nipple immediately feels cold without his warm lips around it, bereft, and I shiver to feel the room’s chilly air on my chest again.
‘I think you’re ready now,’ he says. ‘How many demerits was it?’
I lift my thigh slightly so he can pull the statemen
t out from beneath it.
‘Ah, this many. Would you prefer having your skirt on, or off?’
‘Do I...?’
‘Do you have a choice? No, of course not. I am only offering you a courtesy, as a gentleman. Would you like to have a cigarette and think about it?’
I look at him anxiously.
‘You’ve already got two demerits for it, you can’t get more, so why not enjoy the smoke? Go on,’ he holds the pack up for me, ‘you know you want to.’
I take the cigarette from the packet, and he lights it for me. His silver lighter flashes in the lamplight as he snaps it closed, and I take my first puff. The room feels funny as the smoke fills my lungs.
‘Very good.’ He smiles as I exhale. ‘You understand your debts were sufficient to necessitate the punishment of both your mouth and your breasts, but now, of course...’ He leans back in his chair. ‘Another four on the bill, plus expenses. I don’t smoke. You’ll have to cover the cost of the cigarettes, I’m afraid; they’re your little weakness. That gives me your bottom for punishment, and... oh, I suppose that gives me everything. Lift your skirt. Don’t make me wait.’
‘But I didn’t want the cigarette,’ I protest breathlessly.
‘I only bought the pack because I knew you’d want one,’ he corrects me, and puts one of his hands on my thigh beneath the skirt. ‘Never mind, just take your time. Finish the cigarette.’ Slowly, he slides his hand up to my bottom, and then lifting it slightly brings it back down again hard.
‘Oh!’ I exclaim.
‘Get up and bend over the desk,’ he orders in a thick voice.
I glance down at the hard-on straining against his slacks as my feet touch the floor and I turn around obediently. I feel his eyes on my bottom, and then his hands as he parts my warm cheeks.
‘This won’t take long,’ he whispers in my ear before he spanks me again.
His skin stings mine as it strikes and how hard his palm is comes as a shock that spreads a strangely delicious heat through my body. He spanks me again, and then again, and I feel my face getting as red as my bum from the shame of realising I am enjoying this.
‘It won’t take long at all,’ he assures me softly, ‘but first, a little something just for you, so you won’t think I’m here only for my own pleasure.’
I glance over my shoulder at him when I hear the sound of his zipper coming down, but then quickly look away again as his cock springs free and I feel him spread my cheeks open.
‘Good thing you girls don’t smoke cigars,’ he remarks as he pushes his rigid penis into my tight bottom. I arch my back, helping his painfully rampant erection sink deep into my clinging, perversely welcoming, flesh. ‘With the cost of tobacco these days...’ he groans as he thrusts hard into my body’s most private and sensitive parts, ‘you’d be tied up in here all day!’
I reach down to caress my button, and as he pumps his hot come into my burning sphincter I climax with him, biting my lip not to scream from the terrible pleasure.
And then he makes me lick his cock clean before he lights another cigarette.
Parking Lot Spanking
My husband often makes me take down my panties in public. The first time it happened was at the supermarket. I have a D-cup figure with shapely hips, and I never have problems getting men to look at me, but what happened this time was different.
I had left George waiting in the car and gone back to the counter to buy a pack of gum after we finished our weekly shopping. As was my habit in the past, I got lost reading a magazine by the checkout and didn’t notice the time flying by. When I eventually bought my gum and got back to the car, George was redder than a bull’s eye and twice as hot under the collar.
‘You’ve done this too many times, Darlene,’ he said as I slipped into the passenger’s seat.
‘What are you talking about?’ I asked innocently.
‘You know what I’m talking about, Darlene.’
He was real mad this time, I could tell; there was a little white vein over his right eye that was twitching. It was boiling hot in the parking lot in the noonday sun, and people were walking by. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, George.’ I continued my innocent act. ‘Start the car and turn on the air-conditioner, please,’ I added casually, hoping he would let me get away with it.
He did not. George is a big man with sandy hair thinning on top. He has freckles on his arms, big red freckles on big strong arms. I like him to love me hard, usually he’s too gentle, but this time he really lost his temper. Without another word, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me across the seat toward him. Then he opened his door, got out the car, and pulled me with him.
I was suddenly very scared of this man I thought I knew as I stood in the hot parking lot, my short skirt wafting against the backs of my thighs in the breeze, trying to think of what I could say to calm him down. ‘George, honey...’
‘Don’t say a word Darlene, just walk around to the back of the car.’
‘George...’
‘Darlene, if you say another word, I’m going to drive off and you can walk home.’
He meant it. I could see it in the set of his mouth and in the slight sheen of perspiration on his upper lip. ‘All right,’ I said as quietly as possible, and walked around to the back of the car. We own an old, four-door Ford with a big boot. I stood next to it, and the hot bumper made me jump slightly when it touched my naked legs beneath my skirt.
‘Darlene,’ George came and stood right in front of me, so his face was looming over mine, ‘you’ve been a naughty, naughty girl. Wouldn’t you say?’
‘I would, George,’ I admitted quietly.
‘Then you ought to be punished, right?’
‘Um...’ I wasn’t quite sure what was happening.
‘Push your panties down and lean over the back of the car, Darlene.’
I couldn’t believe it. My ears rang with his shocking command as I blushed just thinking about it. And yet, at the same time, the idea made my pussy feel strangely warm. ‘George, come on now, honey...’
‘Darlene...’
‘I’m not going to take my panties down like some kind of tramp and bend over the car,’ I protested.
‘Darlene, you want to stay here? Fine, I’m done with you.’ He started walking back down the driver’s side.
‘George?!’
He turned back towards me. ‘Get your face on that boot, Darlene.’
‘But it’s shameful... I mean, out here in public...’
‘You should have thought about what it would feel like to take your panties down in the parking lot before you kept me waiting.’
‘I didn’t know...’
‘You will now.’
Which is how I found myself bending over that boot in broad daylight in the parking lot of the busiest supermarket in town. Luckily, we had parked near a corner where the traffic wasn’t too heavy. But I could still hear people walking by even though I couldn’t see them, and didn’t want to see them.
‘That’s a good girl, Darlene.’ I heard George come and stand behind me. ‘Very good.’
I felt his hands reach up under my skirt and stroke my thighs from behind. I felt the air on my skin as my skirt was lifted, exposing my little white cotton panties, and I suddenly felt faint knowing my bottom was now exposed to the eyes of any man or woman who happened to pass by. I closed my own eyes. ‘George...’ I whispered.
‘Be a very good girl, Darlene.’ He peeled the soft cotton off my buttocks and slowly pulled my panties down. His strong hands caressed me on the way down, and the breeze kissing my pussy made me realise I was wet; I was horribly embarrassed and yet excited at the same time. He took his time sliding my panties down my thighs, so I had plenty of time to think about what I was letting him do in the middle of a crowded parking lot, and then he left them hanging around my knees.
‘George?’ I sounded like a frightened little girl now, yet the hot feeling between my legs was not at all innocent.
‘Hold still, honey,’ he said, and right then and there he started spanking me. The impact of his open palm stung like the slap of water when you dive flat into a pool, and sent ripples of pleasure through my soaking pussy. Suddenly I wanted him badly. He slapped my left cheek first, and then my right cheek, and I gasped in mingled pain and desire. He brought his hand down hard on my exposed flesh six times before he patted my flaming bottom, and told me to scoot back into the car.
He drove us home like a criminal running from the cops, and shoved me into the bedroom the minute we walked into the house. ‘You know what to do,’ he said in a low voice, the same one he had used in the parking lot.
‘You want me to take everything off?’ I teased.
‘If you want, we can go back to the parking lot,’ he said roughly, ‘and this time we can park right outside the checkout aisles.’
I took my panties off but left my skirt on, and then pulled off my T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra.
He grabbed both my breasts and squeezed them roughly, as hungrily as if I was a girl he had never had before and he had finally got me in the backseat of a car.
I sighed, ‘George, honey, love me like your own little bad girl!’
He pulled my skirt up and made me kneel on the edge of the bed with my bum up in the air. I didn’t know what he was doing, but then I heard a strange hissing sound and looked around. He was pulling his belt off one loop at a time, letting it hang down his leg as he held it up by the buckle. He patted my bottom just beneath my cheeks, making my pussy tremble, and then stepped back.
The first lash of the belt was the worst; it was such a shock to my system. The belt flicked around and stung both my cheeks, but not at the same time, so it almost felt like two blows right after the other. I started crying after his third hard lash, but I knew better than to complain.
He kept on touching my cheeks in between whipping them, making me so wet that I finally collapsed across the bed and buried my face in a pillow I wanted him so badly.
School for Nurses Page 2
