Mrs Boydd-Black followed, attired in a loose, white towelling robe. Beltless, it gaped open, revealing her near nakedness within its soft embrace. To Miranda’s voyeuristic delight, the two women clasped each other in a close, wordless clinch, Miss Eaddes bringing her small, foxlike face down onto the upturned lips of the headmistress. They kissed a long, unbroken, passionate kiss for several minutes.
Miranda’s throat went dry. Her delta oozed wetly. She gazed hungrily as the maths tutor, under whose flickering strap Miranda herself had flinched and squirmed, rolled her head slightly from side to side as she ravished the supplicant mouth of Mrs Boydd-Black. In her darkened recess, Miranda held her breath as she thrilled to the dominant kiss, savouring the subtle drama as the fierce headmistress, held in awe by all around her, became almost abject in the fiercer embrace of Miss Eaddes.
Soon the maths tutor’s hands found the edge of the white towelling robe and slowly peeled it down to reveal sparkling shoulders, then down further to the honey-toned waist and slowly over the swelling hips of the trembling headmistress. The white robe now forgotten at her feet, Mrs Boydd-Black stood in splendour. Her brassie`re was snow white, the cups that clutched her full breasts deep and severely cut. The flesh within their quivering restraint bulged softly. Miranda wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as she noted how the thin strap stretched tightly around the back, cutting into the creamy flesh. Crisp white panties hugged the full buttocks, clinging to the swelling mound of the delta between the thighs. A snow white suspender belt clasped the swollen hips in its elastic embrace, and from the taut suspenders golden, bronzed stockings stretched down the full, shapely length of the lissome legs. The stockings were darkly seamed, the thin brown lines vividly tracing the feminine curves down from just beneath the bulge of the full, pantie-clad buttocks to the narrow heels of the arched feet.
Miranda had never fully realised just how beautiful, how breathtakingly and strikingly beautiful, how electrically erotic lingerie could be. Now she knew. And the image and its frissons of delicious responses pulverised her normally coolly controlled mind. The sculptured brassie`re, stiff and dazzlingly white, moulded each breast separately, cupping and bunching up the plump, firm flesh within its loving grasp. The cleavage, a sensuously deep valley, was steep and shadowed. The sense of weight and fulsomeness was heightened by the closely cut, figure forming brassie`re which held the firm flesh in its strict bondage.
Miranda’s labia wept with joy as her eyes burned with every detail, every nuance, every clear line and suggestive shadow. Around the sweep of the waist, the intriguing girdle dimpled the soft skin. Slightly below, the snow white panties clung to each separate rounded cheek of the full bottom, the tight fabric delineating the subtle swell of the proud curves. The second skin of sheer silk snuggled into the cleft between the buttocks, and from either hips embossed swallows delicately winged their way inwards, flying towards each other until their beaks collided on the soft pubic swelling between the clamped thighs.
The dry dust in the recess prickled Miranda’s nose. She held back the sneeze, checking it just in time before it threatened to shatter the intense silence. In her high excitement, Miranda’s nerves were as taut as the suspender belt’s garters that kept the sheer bronze nylon stockings so disciplined and stretched tight. Miranda gazed longingly at the darker band of burnished bronze which denoted the stocking tops. The garter snaps bit into the darker shade of shimmering nylon, dragging little pyramids of the glistening material up the milky thighs.
With a gesture commanding silence, Miss Eaddes propelled the headmistress face forwards towards the wall bars. Using the red sash at her waist she blindfolded her submissive partner and then bound her spreadeagled body by the outstretched wrists and splayed ankles to the lengths of wood. From the left hand pocket of her luminous silk kimono the supple hand of the dominant Maths tutor took out a leather belt. Miranda, dry-mouthed and wetthighed, judged it to be approximately four and a half feet long and an inch of soft, supple leather thick. The hand that gripped the leather belt paused, then doubled up the belt and allowed the teasing instrument of delicious punishment to tantalisingly dangle across Mrs Boydd-Black’s right buttock and down the length of her stockinged leg.
As human skin recognised animal skin, and understood the sweet threat one posed to the other, the headmistress gasped softly and arched up on her feet, urgently offering her rounded buttocks up in a gesture of impatient submission. But Miss Eaddes was not to be hurried. She dictated the pace, the rhythm and the tempo of events, having established and sustained complete and absolute control.
The headmistress shivered with feverish anticipation in her taut bondage, but her indulgent tormentor merely brushed the wicked loop of leather against her bottom in delicious circular sweeps. Miranda saw her thigh muscles tighten and, behind their fragile shield of shimmering silk, the buttocks clench in expectation. Soon. Soon. Surely the choking tension would break with the first delicious stroke.
Her throat thickened as the excitement and impatience for the punishment to commence welled up inside Miranda’s tense body. Soon. Soon. The arm would sweep back, be raised up and then crack, down the leather belt would whistle to scorch the patient peaches that awaited its savage kiss. But as Miranda stared, she saw the belt being trailed loosely up around the spreadeagled victim’s shoulders, the blunt tip now skimming down the furrowed spine then out across the convex swell of the hip and thigh. Tantalisingly, teasingly, the tip of the leather belt was drawn in several circles around the outlines of the swollen rump. Miranda almost squealed with tension.
Then, in a single, fluid and graceful movement, like a ballerina dipping liquidly in her paces, the maths tutor stooped, shouldered her strap and eased down the crisp white panties as far as the bronzed stocking tops, the spread of the splayed legs forbidding further descent. The softly shuddering buttocks of the bound and blindfolded headmistress lay fully exposed in their total naked vulnerability.
Mrs Boydd-Black inched up slightly on arched feet, her nylon-encased toes grinding into the polished wood of the gym floor. Miranda noted that the left foot strained inwards, and her eye followed the dark seam of the stocking up to the left buttock, which now bulged like overripe fruit. The gesture caused a molten trickle to moisten her tiny white shorts. In her feverish mind, Miranda burned and yearned to wield the leather strap. Now. She wanted to whip that swollen left cheek, to please it, scald it, pleasure and torment it. A spasm of tormented frustration stabbed her belly. Miranda felt a physical pain grip her. If the punishment did not commence soon, she felt she would scream.
Crack.
The leather belt flickered and struck. The flexible strip of hide caressed the splendid bottom, hugging the curved contours and licking it with a tongue of raw fire. Crack. Crack. Again. And again. And yet again.
The cruel, withering strokes were measured, assured. Miss Eaddes was fully in control, reigning in her impulses and keeping in check her boiling desires. The strap spoke out against the scorched skin in modulated tones, neither stuttering or spluttering in anger or exhilaration. Each swipe controlled and delivered with deadly accuracy.
Miranda heard the passive flesh being lashed eight times and almost fainted with the rush of intoxicated joy that surged up and flooded her brain. The heady delights threatened to engulf and drown her. Mrs Boydd-Black was uttering sweet, delicious lust-thickened moans. The leather length flickered and struck, striping her swollen, punished buttocks again, again and yet again. Fifteen strokes left her searing buttocks criss-crossed with thin, pinkish blue, faint stripes. Miranda wanted that bottom. Now. She wanted it badly. Ached for it. Ached to hold it, kiss it, smother it with her tender after care of cool hands and wet lips, gentle lapping tongue and soft, oh so soft kisses.
Miss Eaddes rolled up the leather belt and placed it in the crotch of the stretched panties. Miranda watched, wide eyed, as the competent maths tutor’s firm white hands dragged the panties back up over the buttocks, leaving the instrument of the recently
administered sweet discipline coiled up tight between the punished woman’s wet thighs. A wicked gesture, to leave the strap so close to the flesh it scalded, giving physical expression to the lingering memories. Such a sweet memento. A devilish touch.
The gesture caused a huge butterfly to unfold and spread its wings deep within Miranda’s belly. She gazed, stunned and bedazzled, as Miss Eaddes lay down on the hard, polished wooden gym floor, wrenched open her silk kimono and greedily pleasured herself with both hands. There was no teasing with exploring, tentative fingertips here — she was hot and wet and hungry. The expert hands sought and found the spot in seconds, and the task was accomplished with clinical rather than sensuous perfection. Spine arched, breasts trembling loosely, mouth agape and slack with passion, the maths tutor climaxed long and loud, her soft bottom pounding its clenched cheeks against the hard, polished floor as the orgasm gripped her and wrung her out in its tight fist of fierce delight. Moments later, without speaking to the headmistress, Miss Eaddes turned off the light and strode out of the darkened gym.
Several minutes passed before Miranda felt it safe enough to emerge. She stole out of her hiding place on silent, stockinged feet and softly approached the headmistress. A loose board creaked.
‘Who is that? Speak,’ Mrs Boydd-Black commanded imperiously, her grim authority only slightly compromised by a flicker of anxiety in her voice.
Miranda positioned herself directly behind the recently whipped woman who still stood ensnared in the ruthless bondage. To allay all fears, she repeated the triple kiss signal, three on the white shoulder and three on the reddening left buttock. Mrs Boydd Black sighed deeply, a sweet sigh of both relief and pleasurable anticipation.
‘I wish I knew who you are…’ she whispered pleadingly.
Miranda placed a warning finger against the parted lips of her happy victim and tapped them into silence with three curt taps. The headmistress shivered. Miranda stroked the spreadeagled woman along her outstretched arms, gliding her fingers from fleshy shoulders to sinuous forearm then on to where slim wrists writhed in the cords that gripped them. Invisible electric sparks flickered from flesh to flesh. The headmistress whimpered. By way of response, Miranda gently positioned her cool hands around Mrs Boydd-Black’s waist and slowly, slowly peeled down the tight white panties.
The headmistress stiffened her arched body momentarily, then slumped into soft, passive acquiescence. The cleft between her recently scourged buttocks parted invitingly, the shadows yawning deep and wide. Miranda ran her fingers up between the punished buttocks, the tips skimming the hot, moist flesh within the glorious globes. The headmistress shuddered and emitted a thin scream which melted into a dying, curdling moan. Miranda’s inquisitive thumb followed, probing and penetrating the warm dark secret place. The firm muscle of the hot sphincter trapped and engulfed the thumbtip, slowly accepting it into the warmth within. With a cruel twist, Miranda extracted her trapped thumb from the taut flesh, causing her victim to groan aloud.
The headmistress was beyond mere words now, and her feelings were expressed in primal sounds of raw pleasure, all rational thoughts banished from this realm of the senses. Miranda tapped the thick, sticky labial folds. They were already parted. Hot excitement dripped steadily down her fingertips. The headmistress was primed for pleasure, and accepted Miranda’s three fingers willingly, hungrily, her rippling muscles devouring them with a savage appetite for more. The fingers worked with the spasms of the contracting muscles, seeking and finding the most sensitive reaches within, then pumping and plunging up and down with a controlled ruthlessness.
As she felt the belly tighten and the warm excitation drip, Miranda slowly inserted the index finger of her left hand in between the clenched buttocks, working it inexorably up against, and then into and beyond, the tightened whorl of the anus. The broad, soft buttocks bucked and bounced in a responsive spasm as the tightly bound body of the headmistress thrilled to the added delight.
Miranda smiled as her victim shuddered into a reverberating climax moments later, and as she stepped back slightly to peruse the writhing limbs tauten in sweet agony, a sudden surge of tenderness for this lonely, isolated woman crept into her young heart. Never really deeply touched by pity or compassion in her spoiled and privileged existence, Miranda suddenly reflected with tenderness upon the trials and tribulations Mrs Boydd-Black endured.
A widow, childless and burdened by the responsibilities of leadership and command. Wishing to make this brief session of undiluted pleasure an intensely memorable one, Miranda dipped her fingers into the panties and took out the coiled leather strap. Stepping back, she uncoiled it and cracked it down four times in rapid succession across the tremulous, domed buttocks that still shuddered under the force of the internal climax that had exploded within.
Fresh cries of pure joy were torn from the parted lips of the delirious headmistress. The cries were so deep and mellow, so liquidly passionate, Miranda could have been forgiven for thinking that the tongue that gave birth to them was rooted in the ravaged belly below.
Miranda stepped closer to the warm body that shivered in ecstatic surrender and unclasped the taut brassie`re. The wisp of airy nothingness fluttered down to the stockinged feet below, allowing the generous breasts, nipples peaked painfully in their alert erectness, to tumble and spill freely. Insinuating the leather belt around the loose breasts, Miranda drew it tightly together across the soft flesh of Mrs Boydd-Black’s back and bound it firmly into place. She examined the effect, nodding with satisfaction as she caught a glimpse of the bunched breasts bulging within the supple circle of hide.
Silvery hot droplets spangled the sheer bronze nylon stockings that graced the inner thighs of the shivering headmistress. Miranda traced her finger in the wetness, musing. As she dabbled her fingertips into the lava flow she struggled with an idea. Resolution flickered triumphantly in her eyes. Of course.
She dragged her sticky hands across the scalded bottom and smacked it playfully, resting her hand on the scorched skin for a moment before rubbing the hot flesh with the sticky wet warmth that dripped from her webbed fingers. As the headmistress screamed softly in response, Miranda skipped over to the recess and selected a thin Indian juggling club. She returned to where the near naked woman quivered in her taut bondage. Miranda placed the narrow shaft up against the parted lips. An inquisitive tongue peeped out and licked the smooth wood timorously, then rasped it with greedy, mounting confidence.
Miranda withdrew the tapered length of smooth wood. Mrs Boydd-Black whimpered for its return. Miranda spanked the exposed bottom sternly and then slowly sank down to her knees. Bending her face closely, she tongued the seam of the stockinged left leg up from the hollow behind the straightened knee to where it dissolved into the swell of the heavy buttock. Repeating and echoing the gesture, Miranda’s little wet, pink tongue tip licked the seam the full length of the bronze-stockinged right leg, pausing to flutter and quiver at the cusp of the curved bottom above. By now, the pupil was as wet and frenzied as the tightly bound and blindfolded headmistress.
‘Who are you? I must know,’ demanded the husky voice once more.
Miranda sharply spanked the naked bottom in a command for silence.
‘Please… please…’ sobbed the headmistress thickly, brokenly.
Miranda raised her strong leg up between the parted thighs before her and wedged it firmly into the shadowed, wet warmth. The splayed buttocks rested their heavy flesh on her flexed upper thigh. Miranda concentrated hard as she took a cheek in each hand and worked the pliant flesh, twisting and moulding it to her will, between the merciless talons that her fingers had become.
‘Witch!’ hissed the ravished victim, almost drunkenly. ‘Bitch… Devil… Who are you? Tell me, tell me… please …’
Miranda squeezed the buttock flesh viciously, tenderly, lingeringly in several directions before dragging it wide apart, causing the deep cleft to yawn apart painfully. Miranda held it like that for a timeless moment, her own hot silver spillin
g freely down her legs.
‘More… please, I beg you. Do what you will with me. Please,’ the lust-curdled voice begged her thickly.
Dragging the soaking panties down as far as the splayed legs would permit them to go, Miranda placed the blunt, thick end of the inverted Indian juggling club into the saturated gusset, carefully positioning the narrow, tapered shaft in between the glistening, parted labia above.
The headmistress responded with a shrill wail of demonic joy, a scream that fragmented into sobbing joy and delight. As the panties slowly curled back up along the satin thighs, the nub of the tapered shaft was slowly forced up inside their owner. As the smooth wood disappeared, a quarter of an inch at a time, Miranda undid the leather belt. The bound breasts bounced free. Miranda steadied them, tweaking the stiff nipples painfully before applying the leather belt five times across the creamy orbs of Mrs Boydd-Black’s naked buttocks.
Crack. Snap. Thwack. The crisp leather seared across the satin flesh. The buttocks bounced under the fierce lashes, causing the panties to unfurl more quickly, thus forcing the smooth shaft deeper upwards, inwards.
Crack. The headmistress screamed. The bottom bounced. The wood sank even deeper into the wet warmth. Crack. The fifth swipe seared the bunched buttocks savagely. The headmistress mouthed a torrent of endearments, obscenities and impassioned avowals of both eternal gratitude and revenge.
Smiling grimly, Miranda scooped up the discarded brassie`re from the floor and forced the soft material deep inside the parted lips. Checking to ensure that the Indian club was still penetrating the trussed, gagged, naked body of the delirious headmistress, Miranda kissed the punished bottom three times on each glistening cheek — and softly stole out of the gym.
Nine fifty-seven. A cold, dank winter night. The sort of night that kept taxis busy and London’s pavements empty. Outside Liverpool Street station, a motorbike revved at the amber traffic light. The vast concourse shimmered in its swathe of golden light. Green. The engine snarled and roared. The bike flashed away, pulling up three minutes later outside a merchant bank that specialised in bullion and Far Eastern currencies.
The Academy Page 16
