by Kim Acton
Andre let her cry for a few moments then put his hand gently on her shoulder. “That’s enough, Honey. Go have a shower and change into your dress,” he said tenderly.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. Please punish me immediately. Please give me a severe whipping right now,” she begged.
“That’s not necessary, Honey. I can see you regret your mistake. There is no need to make you regret it more. You are forgiven. Now go get ready,” he told her.
Eva was overtaken by love for Andre’s compassion and understanding. It seemed like everything he did brought them closer together. She hugged and kissed him repeatedly and scurried to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
As they left the hotel room a middle-aged couple from the room next door was returning. As the husband fumbled to open their door with the key card, his overweight, frumpy wife glared at Andre and Eva with disapproval. Andre barely noticed but Eva took it all in and wondered what her problem was and what she was thinking. She mentioned it to Andre in the elevator and he only replied, “Who cares?”
They took a taxi to a busy tourist area in Cancun’s hotel zone. As they walked along the street Eva noticed that Andre seemed to be looking for an address. She asked him where they were going.
“We’re going to a place you’ll never forget. A place you’ll remember every day for the rest of your life,” he said cryptically. A minute later they walked into the door of a tattoo shop. Eva viewed all the artwork plastered on the walls.
“Are you getting a tattoo, Andre?” she asked in amazement.
“No,” he replied.
Eva was suddenly scared, “I’m not getting a tattoo, right?” she asked with fear.
“No,” he replied.
Andre shook hands with the owner and pointed to Eva. The owner nodded and ushered them into the back of the shop. There was a small room with a chair in the middle that looked like a barber’s or dentist’s chair. “Sit right here, Eva,” said Andre patting the big chair. Eva did as she was told.
Andre looked into her eyes. “Today you’re getting your nipples pierced. I want you to have a constant reminder of who controls your body. I want you to have something to look at and feel every day that shows you who you serve and why you have jewelry on your big tits at all times.”
Eva had stark terror in her eyes and her hands began to tremble. The shop owner seemed oblivious to their conversation and placed a clipboard in her lap that contained what she assumed was a consent form. Andre looked at it. It was all in Spanish and contained a blank for her name. He filled it in and handed it to Eva to sign. Her hand shook as she signed it. Andre handed the owner a wad of bills. Then he reached into his pocket and gave him more with a knowing nod. They both smiled.
The chair was moved into a reclined position and Andre told Eva to remove her breasts from her dress. The owner swabbed them with generous amounts of disinfectant. He removed instruments from an autoclave and placed a device that looked like pliers onto her left nipple. He squeezed it tight and her nipple was immobilized under the pressure of the clamp. He slid a long, thin skewer into a channel on the pliers. To pierce the nipple the skewer slid through the channel, always following the exact path it needed to in order to come out perfectly where it should on the other side of the nipple. When the device was in place the owner stepped back from the chair and nodded to Andre.
Andre took the device in his hand. “I’m going to pierce your nipples myself, Eva. I want you to tell me who owns your tits and what can be done with them. Say it.”
Eva’s voice trembled with fear but she looked him square in the eyes, “You own these big tits, Sir. You can do anything you want to them, Sir.”
On her last word Andre pressed the skewer through her nipple. The pain was less than she feared. The needle was very sharp and thin. It hurt, to be sure, but Andre’s pinching and twisting in past discipline sessions hurt equally. Tears came to her eyes but she did not cry.
The shop owner completed the procedure and inserted a silver barbell into the piercing then moved the apparatus to her right nipple.
Andre repeated the ritual, “Say it,“ he told her.
“You own these big tits, Sir. You can do anything you want to them, Sir. Thank you for giving me a reminder of your control over me. Thank you for piercing my big tits, Sir.”
Again he pressed the needle through her pink, engorged nipple and again she whimpered and bit her lip with obedience. A sense of pride came over her for taking her man’s token bravely and without bargaining. She knew she’d done well.
They left the shop and went back to their hotel for drinks. When they sat at the outdoor bar Eva noticed the couple from the room next door were sitting adjacent to them. Again the woman gave Eva a disapproving look. Eva nudged Andre and pointed out the couple.
“Hi. Where are you folks from?” he asked.
The husband answered, “Memphis.”
Andre tried to be friendly, “Oh, some great barbecue in that town. I suppose you can’t get much of that around here.”
The man smiled but his wife still looked dour.
“Ma’am you seem upset with us. Did we do something wrong?” Andre asked her.
She looked at both of them. “Well, let’s just say the walls in this hotel pretty thin. Folks can hear you carrying on and, to be blunt, I don’t like the idea of a wife being slapped.”
Andre turned to Eva with a smile, “Honey?”
Eva took a sip of her drink, cuddled closer to Andre and spoke to the couple, “It’s not like that, Ma’am. The truth is I was brought up to think sex was dirty and sinful. When we got married I had a lot of trouble pleasing my husband and I was unhappy and unfulfilled. Worse, I was hurting the person I love the most. Luckily for me, Andre helped me let go of my fears and inhibitions. One of the ways we do that is to have him discipline me when I fall back to my old ways.”
The woman was unconvinced, “Uh-huh. I’ve heard that before. You’re supposed to believe you deserve it.”
Eva continued, “It’s not that. It’s more like I want it more than anything else. I want to become, if you’ll excuse my language Ma’am, a whore in the bedroom. Like that old saying about a chef in the kitchen and a lady in the parlor. I need to learn to be a whore with my husband. I want that more than anything and I want him to push me to get there. If that means a hard spanking or even a whipping with a belt, then I want it. This trip to Mexico has been the greatest time in my life. And I apologize if we disturbed you with our noise. That was wrong of us. But what you heard was some of the best sex I’ve ever had in my life and if I could live every day of it over I would. Except maybe I’d want it harder than I got it this time,” she giggled.
The woman seemed to relax a bit, “Well, I’m glad to hear it wasn’t something against your will.”
Eva smiled, “No, Ma’am. What you heard was me doing whatever my husband wanted, and nothing gives me more pleasure than that. In fact, I think we share a love that goes deeper than most people. May I show you my rear end, just for a second?”
The couple looked at each other and nodded with some amusement. Eva turned her ass toward them and lifted the back of her dress. She never wore panties so they were treated to a view of her perfect, bare ass. The welts from the morning still criscrossed her cheeks. The husband leered with a grin until his wife elbowed him.
“These marks are from this morning. It excites Andre to see them, and do you know what? I love him so deeply that if it excites him I want. I will actually beg him to use the cane on me and then sodomize me for his pleasure. Do you love your husband that much, Ma’am? You don’t have to answer, but I want to make it clear that’s our situation. We will try to be more quiet but if you hear a belt tonight or a scream it’s only me showing my husband how much I love and appreciate him.”
The couple stammered a few words about being happy Eva and Andre were in love then gulped their drinks and left the bar hastily.
Andre was beaming at Eva’s victory over c
aring what other people thought about her or their relationship. She was polite but she told them plainly that she felt right about what they did and their disapproval was misplaced. A perfect response.
That night was their last in Cancun and they had hot sex without the aid of any toys. Eva was allowed to climb on top of Andre and ride his big cock for as many orgasms as she wanted. It was a rare treat for her to spoil herself with multiple orgasms and she relished the reward she earned so richly.
They had an early flight in the morning. They packed their bags and rolled them into the hallway. In the hall they heard the unmistakable sound from the other couple’s room of a woman getting a spanking and wailing ‘thank you,’ the whole time. Apparently the incident at the bar had led to further discussion between the older couple.
Eva darted back into their room and grabbed a hotel notepad. She drew a big smiley face and scribbled a few words. As they left she silently slipped the note under the door of the couple from the bar.
Andre chucked as they headed for the elevator, “What did you write on that note?” he asked.
Eva put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh. “Welcome to my world!” she said.
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Read below for sample of Kim Acton’s book
College Discipline
A Sample of Chapter One of:
COLLEGE DISCIPLINE by Kim Acton
Heather absentmindedly turned the pages of the campus newspaper. She couldn’t concentrate on what she was reading due to her worry about flunking two classes in the semester and driving her GPA below the level where she qualified for her scholarships and financial aid. She could feel desperation seize her as she tried to think of some way to get her hands around the problem and boost her grades on her exams later that month.
That’s when her eyes caught an unusual classified advertisement in the back pages of the newspaper:
“Bad Grades? Do you lack the motivation and discipline to study hard and improve your grades? Strict corporal discipline could be the answer for you.”
The ad contained an e-mail address and the name “The Professor.” Heather read the ad three times before she set down the paper, gulped the remainder of her orange juice and hurried off to her day of classes. What was waiting for her was not pleasant. Her world history professor had just posted grades online for the test she wrote the week before. It was bad.
Her afternoon class in medical biology brought more grim news; another low grade that threatened her financial aid. By the time her school day was over Heather was in tears. When she got back to her dorm room she studied the ad in the paper for a few minutes, reading it again and again. She sent an e-mail to the address explaining her situation and was surprised to receive an answer with five minutes.
The email said;
It’s possible that I can help you. Come to this address this evening at 8PM sharp.
The address was an upscale condo building bordering the campus, an easy ten minute walk from Heather’s dorm. She figured she’d go talk to the guy and determine whether he could help. She worried about what sort of discipline he had in mind and how she would pay for his service. In fact, she worried about everything related to the whole idea, but mostly she worried about flunking two credits and having to quit college altogether. That’s what impelled her to keep her appointment.
She knocked on the door promptly at eight o'clock and it was answered by a well dressed, very handsome man in his late thirties who appeared trim and fit. His wire-rim glasses and corduroy jacket gave him the classic look of person who spent his life in the academic world.
“I assume you are Heather. Please take a seat in the living room. I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said.
Heather was impressed with the decor. Of course, she’d become used to her friend’s dorms and apartment’s which were invariably filled with crappy hand me downs and mismatched, discarded furniture. This home was sumptuously decorated with polished mahogany bookshelves and leather furniture. She took a seat on the end of a sofa, crossed her legs and did her best to not look nervous.
Her host returned to the room and took a seat directly across from her. Before he said a word he looked her up and down slowly then began to ask her several questions, “What is your major? What classes are you failing? How many hours do you devote to study? Do you have a boyfriend? Do you party often with friends?”
Heather stammered answers to his onslaught of questions. His skill as an interrogator enabled him to swiftly identify her problem.
“Heather, you know how to study properly and you know where to get answers to the areas for which you require more explanation. In short, you have the means and opportunity to remediate the issue with your low grades, however you spend entirely too much of your time avoiding study and wasting time with social activities.”
Heather wanted to display her willingness to admit her mistakes, “I agree,” she offered.
He was terse. “I’m not interested in whether you agree with my observations and assessments. Do you understand?”
Heather was taken aback, “Yes, fine. Mister…what shall I call you?” she asked respectfully.
“You may call me Professor,” he said, then continued, “Your problem is you lack any self-discipline. In such cases, you must acquire discipline from an outside source. That is my function. I will see to it that you study properly and that your grades improve. I am not part of the college faculty, I operate independently. My methods are simple but well proven. You will visit me at the frequency I require and during our visits you will you will be spanked. Is that clear to you, Heather?”
She didn’t know what to say. His ad said corporal discipline and she assumed it would mean something physical but she somehow hoped it would be easy.
“I guess it’s clear. So, like, you would spank me on my jeans, or what?” she asked, trying to sound businesslike and not frightened.
“No, not on your jeans, Heather. It will be on your bare behind. And it won’t always be with my hand. It might be a paddle or leather belt or another implement I deem necessary,” he informed her.
Heather wasn’t sure he was serious. His proposal sounded so bold it took her by surprise.
“So, you would see my bare ass and spank it with your hand or a belt? Are you serious? That’s how this works?”
The Professor sighed audibly, “First of all, how this works, to use your phrase, is that you will become both disciplined and motivated to improve your grades. That really is the only matter with which you need be concerned, as it is the objective you seek. Secondly, in order for it to work you must have a sense of dread in the alternative to improving yourself. In this case, you will dread our discipline sessions. To ensure that you dread them they need to be, shall we say, uncomfortable to you. And they need to be both physically uncomfortable and emotionally uncomfortable. Do you follow that so far?”
“Yes, Professor,” she answered.
“Fine. Then you will understand that to make you emotionally uncomfortable you will not only expose your bottom to view, you will be completely naked during your discipline. The more that embarrasses you, the better. To ensure you are physically uncomfortable you will be spanked or strapped quite hard. You can expect to have temporary marks on your behind and to be quite sore, I assure you. Is that clear to you, Heather?”
“Yes, Professor, it is. I just didn’t expect this to be exactly how you would help me,” she said.
“If you want drastic changes in the outcome of your grades you have to make drastic changes in what you do to achieve those grades. Partying and socializing haven’t helped you and they remain unlikely to help you. Strict discipline is obviously what you need.”
The Professor paused to let his words sink in, then informed her of something she didn’t consider. “You haven’t asked me what this service will cost,” he said.
Heather responded out of common reflex, “Honestly, I’m broke. I barely have money for food the
se days and if I lose my tuition assistance I’m sunk. I really have no way to pay you.”
“You will pay me with your mouth.” The room went totally silent.
“W…what? How?” stammered Heather.
“You heard me. It told you I was not affiliated with the college. I am also not doing this for the good of my health. I offer students in your position an important and valuable service and I am paid for it. You will pay me with your mouth. You will perform oral sex on me when I ask you to. You may make use of my services for as much or as little time as you choose but you will always pay for my time and attention by satisfying me with fellatio.”
Heather blushed and continued to stammer, “I…I don’t. I don’t know if I can do that.”
“I’m sure you’ve had several boyfriends by this point in your life, correct?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“And you’ve performed oral sex on all or most of them, correct?” he asked in a matter of fact tone.
“Well, I suppose so,” she equivocated.
“Then the task is nothing new to you. It’s a form of payment you can make and can afford.”
Heather was very nervous about making the commitment. “I don’t know. It seems like I shouldn’t be doing this. And it’s like I get a whipping, which is going to hurt and then I have to do something to give you pleasure. You get everything and I don’t get anything.”
“That’s not correct. You are going to get improved grades. Tell me, what happens if you fail this semester?” he asked.
“Well, I will lose my financial aid package, and…I guess I’d have to drop out of college,” said Heather.
“And then where would you live?” he asked.
“I suppose I’d move back home with my parents,” she replied.
“So, your alternative to my offer of assistance is to fail your semester, drop out of college, move back in with your parents at the age of twenty, try to find a job in this bad economy and start paying back your student loans right away? Is that it? Is that what you’d sooner do than receive regular discipline that costs you zero money and ensures your grades will improve and that you can graduate college with your financial aid in effect?”