Becoming a Slut Wife Alma
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Strict Schooling 5: Alma Mater free porn video
“Well, Verity, it has been a while.”
“Indeed, Headmistress.” The small stab of annoyance made Lady Vernon shift in her chair. Her name was the one thing she had been glad to leave behind with her school days. But no matter. She was back on a visit and it went with the place.
“May I speculate that your life has been more settled of late? Young lover, perhaps?”
It was useless to resist and the past pupil of almost twenty years gave a wry laugh. “I see that your mind-reading powers have not diminished, Headmistress. And to pre-empt further speculation, I'll add that I have removed myself for a week so that she can concentrate on her exams.”
“So the girl is of a scholastic bent?”
“A quite recent inclination that I did not want to distract her from at this time.”
“I approve, Verity. You have her interests at heart. Now it's our job to find the means of distracting you in your temporarily single state. Starting right now.” She got to her feet and Lady Vernon watched her comb through the batch of canes held in a stand in the corner. Selecting one, she swished it through the air a couple of times. Slender and whippy, its potential impact gave the visitor a frisson of anticipation.
“One of our special girls has an appointment with this beauty. She hasn't been terribly naughty, so it will just be six strokes. But she has such a delicious arse that I'm going to have her bare it for us.”
“Us, Headmistress?”
“She will be delighted to have an enthusiast like yourself witness the event. Ah, and that's her now.”
Lady Vernon was pleased: it was beginning to seem that little had changed since her last visit or, indeed, since her own school days. Though perhaps the survival of such an institution was not, in itself, surprising. Founded on the judicious use of corporal punishment, it was financed entirely by like-minded families of means. And its location in a remote part of the Scottish Highlands, together with the academic excellence of its graduates, had acted to keep outside interference at bay.
All but a small number of girls were chastised when necessary with no more affront to modesty than the raising of the skirt for the cane to be applied to the underwear. Those few exceptions, however, formed part of a 'special' coterie where discipline at the hands of the Headmistress and one or two select members of her staff took on an erotic dimension. And one such pupil was in front of them now, in a white blouse and navy pleated skirt.
“Anya, I'm expecting you to show our guest how a senior girl can take her punishment.”
“I shall try, Miss.”
“Good girl. So give me your knickers, please. Then I'll have you in the usual position.”
Once the garment was handed over, the girl went to an old-style classroom desk against the wall and moved it centre stage. Then she flipped up her short skirt and lowered herself across it, torso facing down the sloping lid. With hands gripping its legs on the far side, she spread her own to form an inverted-V.
Between the globes that were now the high point of the body, the parted lips were visibly wet and Lady Vernon gave a small gasp at her own jab of arousal.
The Headmistress ran the tip of her cane over the slick folds with a smile. “We do like our special girls to be in the mood for a caning, Verity.”
Then she laid the rod carefully an inch above the crease with the thighs and brought it down hard. Like a live thing, it sliced an arc into the meaty buttocks and sprang back in quivering recoil. The instant white line turned red and deepened in colour before their eyes. There was a momentary clenching of cheeks and a sharp intake of breath, then the bottom was thrust out for the next.
It was as stalwart a performance as any Lady Vernon had seen in a long time. Just six strokes, but what must have been the ferocious smart of each was evidenced by the accumulating array of purple welts that burned, one by one, into the pale flesh.
When it was done, the girl lay breathing hard and the Headmistress touched her visitor's arm. “Sterling comportment that deserves the best of aftercare, Verity. And I know she'll be honoured if you would oblige. So I'll leave the pair of you to it.” With that, she headed for the door and was gone.
Lady Vernon moved over to the desk and placed her hands on the bare hips. “My dear girl, you are very brave. Will you allow me to pleasure you after all that pain? Like this, perhaps...” She knelt and nuzzled between the buttocks, savouring the sharp scent of arousal.
Anya turned her head. “Are you a real Lady, um, Miss?”
“Afraid so. And no 'Miss.' Just call me Lady V, okay?”
“So I have a Lady offering to kiss my bottom?” For a moment, she was a schoolgirl on the verge of the giggles, then the eyes were serious. “Yes please, Lady V. I should love you to kiss my poor bottom better...”
It was a poor bottom indeed and the giver of aftercare ran her lips over the hot welted flesh. Then she moved into the cleft and rimmed the tight puckered hole before moving down to the vaginal lips. When she found the clitoral hood with her tongue, Anya responded at once.
“Yes...yes...nnnggg...oh yes...”
Lady Vernon gripped the thighs and thrust her head forward, licking and nibbling and the girl bucked and jerked, emitting a string of shrill cries...
When it was done, the visitor grinned to herself. It was as well the HM's quarters were well soundproofed. For the one so controlled while being caned had yelled fit to bring the roof down in her climax.
Anya emerged from the bathroom and kissed Lady Vernon on the lips. “Thank you, thank you. That was absolutely the best.”
“Glad to be of service, my dear.”
oOo
It took an effort of will to remove the damp pants, wipe herself with them and do nothing more. Other than throw on a loose cotton dress, lace up trainers and head out. Without fresh pants, which would have been coming off again in a very few minutes.
In fact, it was in less than ten that Lady Vernon was up the hillside looking down on the baronial turrets of her old school with its cluster of newer outbuildings. A short climb further opened out a view to the west of a range of peaks foregrounded by a sea loch silvery in the afternoon sun.
And just ahead was the perfect spot. She hitched up the dress and squatted on a mossy ledge with a rock backrest. Then, knees drawn up and spread, she laid a finger on the lips between her thighs. It slid at once into the slippery opening and Lady Vernon shivered with lust. It was just half an hour since she'd been deep into Anya's cunt; now it was time for her own. Though, as she began to lose herself in the rush of sensation, the image in her mind was not of that recent luscious display but of the young lover at home, spreadeagled in abandon on the bed...
She came to at the sound of a snort and a whinny. “Settle down, Silver.” The figure tied her horse to a tree and approached.
“Sorry about that. She's not used to anyone being here. In this spot, you know.”
Lady Vernon got to her feet. At least she'd covered herself before falling into a doze. “Um, this spot?”
The woman grinned at her. “You're not aware that stories about your, shall we say, colourful schooldays still circulate. In particular, your secret place for discreet self-pleasuring in the open air, and now I use it myself. Preserving tradition, you might say.”
For once at a loss for words, the visitor fell back on a question. “And you are?”
“God, how rude of me. Cynthia Meadows, outdoor stuff like sports and horses. Not one of the academic staff. And now, Lady Vernon, come clean. Was it a good one?”
“Lady V, please. And you are certainly blunt, Cynthia.”
“To the point of impertinence, it's often suggested. Before I'm told that what I need is a good spanking.” She pouted with a little wiggle that showed off her almost indecently snug jeans. “So I do carry with me a implement – a Scottish one to boot – in case the speaker decides to act on their words.”
“You know, Cynthia, you've aroused my curiosity.”
With a giggle, the teacher went to her saddlebag and took out a coiled-up strip of leather. “Here you are.” It opened to a bit more than a foot long and its inch and a half width was cut into two tails at the business end. Rather taken with the thing, Lady Vernon whacked it against her palm.
“Mmm. Must confess I've never used one of these. Too fixated on the cane, perhaps. But applied forcefully, this fellow would certainly sting.”
“Well, Lady V, you must try it out. Here and now. But before I offer you my bottom for that purpose, there is one matter to discuss. I understand from the HM that you're expecting, while here, to submit to some quite rigorous discipline. Is that right?”
“Certainly. I was brought up to the cane, reinforced by school days here. And yet in my current situation, there is no one to take me in hand from time to time.” It was odd to be confessing such a thing to this young woman, but under the flighty manner there was a definite edge. To say nothing of a palpable sexual presence.
“Then I have a suggestion. The school has acquired a punishment bench designed to restrain an individual while the judicial tawse is applied to their naked buttocks and thighs. Six dozen strokes should serve to deliver a memorably sound whipping.” Under her gaze, Lady Vernon sat transfixed at the prospect conjured up by Cynthia's words.
“One so treated will need time to recuperate before a journey, which would indicate an early appointment with the bench for any visitor so minded. Therefore, my proposal would be that I execute such a sentence tonight at ten o' clock. What do you say, Lady V?”
“Oh fuck. Fuck, yes.” She felt her loins turning to water at the thought of being chastised – severely chastised – at the hands of this potent young woman. Inside, a part of her recoiled aghast at the pain she had just consigned herself to, but she was caught in the grip of an overmastering emotion.
“This evening I shall be yours to do with as you see fit.” Lady Vernon looked down at the strap she was holding and ran it through her fingers. “Right now though, Cynthia, you'll uncover your bottom and bend over.”
The young woman peeled down the jeans with a huge grin and, gripping the rocky ledge, stuck out her behind. “Don't hold back, Lady V.”
“Never fear. This may be just a trial but I intend to enjoy myself.” So saying, she brought the tawse down hard centre target and was rewarded by a yelp. Though modestly sized, the instrument was made of unusually dense leather that bit into the bottom cheeks and made them dance. Lady Vernon worked from left and right sides and soon the area was acquiring a pleasing glow of rosy red, with the square-edged outline of the tails on both flanks.
“Mmm...nice. Let's say ten more low down across here –” she touched the area that bordered on the crease with the thighs “– and we'll have you count them. Right?”
“Right.” Cynthia obligingly arched her back to thrust her bottom into even more prominent view.
Thwick!
“Ooh. One, ma'am.”
Thwick!
“Aah. Two, ma'am.”
Thwick!
“Ow. Three, ma'am.”
And so the selected band of flesh deepened steadily in colour until the last.
Thwick!
“Oww! Ten, ma'am.” Back upright, Cynthia cradled the well-leathered parts in her hands. “And I'd have to say you already have the measure of that instrument.”
“Yes, I could quite take to it. But of course, the greater part of the pleasure derives from its use on such a splendid arse.”
“Well, thank you, my Lady.” Cynthia made a mock curtsy, then wth several sharp intakes of breath wriggled the said piece of her anatomy back into the tight denims. The very picture of arousal with eyes wide and nostrils flared, she took back her tawse and moved to the tree.
“Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Thank you, Lady V. By the time I've ridden Silver down to the school, I shall be so ready.” She blew her chastiser a kiss, mounted the horse and set off, calling back over her shoulder. “Till tonight, then...”
oOo
It was a thing of beauty. A solid construction of polished mahogany with shining brass fittings, it held at both ends hinged flaps with semi-circular cutouts mirrored by those in the frame. When closed they would serve to secure, at one end, the neck and wrists and at the other, the ankles. Between the two, a leather bolster under the belly raised the target area to prominence and a broad leather belt across the small of the back held the body fast to the base of the device.
Lady Vernon stood lost in contemplation of the gleaming contraption. By no amount of struggling and writhing could a figure so restrained escape the full impact of the punishment to be meted out. Once in place, he was utterly helpless. Or, of course, she. And the thought brought her back to earth with a bump. That was to be her fate in a very few moments, and she shivered convulsively.
“Is our candidate for the bench perhaps having second thoughts?”
Before her was a vision in black leather from top to toe, a supple second skin pulled tight into the crotch. Above erect nipples stood out like cherries and dumbstruck, Lady Vernon shook her head.
“Then is she prepared to undergo the rigours of the judicial tawse?” The pale gaze was cool as Cynthia held out the item in question.
It was in a different league from the instrument of the afternoon. Thicker and wider, it was a good two feet in length and cut into three tails for almost half of that. Swallowing, the one about to become intimately acquainted with it assented, copying the formal turn of phrase.
“She is.”
“Then the candidate will take up her position.”
Lady Vernon climbed on to the bench and lay face down in her cotton shift. When packing for the trip she had thought it might serve as an all-purpose garment in which to be chastised, should the need arise. And now here she was...
The hinged pieces at front and back were duly closed, holding wrists and ankles tight in padded leather. Less so the neck, though the head was unable to turn from a forward direction. Deprived of a rear view, Lady Vernon felt hands raise her hips enough to fold the shift up, after which a broad strap was secured across her back.
In her mind's eye she could see how she must look with the target area on prominent display. Unlike common practice for administration of the cane, the legs were mercifully not spread. Those wicked-looking tails were going to cause enough distress on the tender flesh of the thighs without finding their way in between. That didn't bear thinking about...
“The strokes will be administered to a pattern. The first twelve will be given from the left moving down the body, while the second will move back up from the opposite side. When that sequence has been repeated two times, the whipping is complete. Does the candidate have any questions?”
“She does not.” This was it, the moment of truth. She must hold on to the thought that in not very many minutes it would all be done.
“Then we'll begin.”
There was no stinting of effort. Out of the corner of an eye the 'candidate' glimpsed the arm raised high over the head before the weapon was lashed down across her tethered form with a small grunt. The strokes to the buttocks were shocking enough with the slap of solid leather augmented by the wicked bite of its tongues. But when the chastiser moved her attack down the body, her victim was at once brought close to despair. How could she bear this?
But of course bear it she did, though at the cost of any notion of keeping a stoical silence. Crying out – even shrieking – was the only possible response to such atrocious, smarting pain. After which, the renewed tawsing of the bottom-cheeks seemed to become an interval of respite before the next onslaught.
At last, blinded by sweat and gasping for breath, she heard the words: “Six strokes and we are done.” Almost as if the whipping were already over, it was with relief that the woman on the bench braced herself for the last fiery kisses of leather across her scalded buttocks...
oOo
Two days later, Lady Vernon sat carefully on the rocky ledge on the hillside and sank into contemplation of the loch stretching away below. After some minutes, she became aware that she was no longer alone.
“Lady V. I was hoping to find you here.”
“As you have, Cynthia. Though not for the reason you thought habitual. I've been well looked after by Anya since...”
“Since I tawsed you with such abandon. I was afraid I'd, well...” The young teacher was looking distinctly apprehensive.
“Gone over the top? No such thing in matters of formal discipline. Not in my book. I signed up for a 'sentence' with that instrument and you carried it out. Please, let's hear no more about it.”
She held out her hand which Cynthia clasped, plainly relieved. “It was, though, rather more than you expected.”
“Ha! Indeed, it is one thing to have one's arse soundly beaten, but the backs of the thighs... Not an experience I'll be in a hurry to revisit. Though I'm guessing it is one you are no stranger to.”
“Well, if I'm going to dish it out, I feel duty-bound to submit to the same. From time to time. Our Deputy HM has acquired quite a taste for the fiendish three-tailer and is always happy to oblige.”
“Cynthia, you're more of a stalwart than I. And now, while we're talking, I'll take the opportunity to invite you to visit us in the South. At the earliest opportunity.”
“Oh yes, I'd love to. And we have a break in October if that would suit.”
“Perfect.”
“Though would I be jumping the gun to expect you to reciprocate, Lady V with, say, a correctional scenario of your own?”
She pouted in response to the raised eyebrow. “Oh, I've been rumbled. Am I that transparent?”
“Yes, you are.” Cynthia broke into giggles. “Can I have a hint of what might be involved?”
“Well, I'm rather partial to the triple-sixer. With another judicial-grade instrument.”
“Ooh, goody. That'll be the cane. And let me guess – a forty-incher, perhaps?”
“Spot on, my dear. So one scene might have the, ah, candidate take the first six strokes in a clinging lycra miniskirt, which is then pulled up to expose the sheer black pants underneath for six more –”
“After which, they come down for the bare bum – already fiercely striped – to cop it in a bracing finale. Ouch and ouch again. I'm already wet at the mere thought...”
Lady Vernon laughed. “A woman after my own heart. And at the milder end of things, you'll have to meet my young friend Alison. One doesn't have to look far for a reason to give her a good spanking. Traditional style with tearful making up and kissing better, of course.”
Cynthia was grinning from ear to ear. “It will be a feast, Lady V. I can't wait.”
“Excellent. Until October, then...”
Blaze
- 18.10.2021
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