School Reunion Year 2

by Laurel Aspen

  SCHOOL REUNION

  Year 2

  by

  LAUREL ASPEN

  School Reunion Year 2 first published as an eBook in 2012 by Chimera eBooks, an imprint of Avid eBooks.

  ePub ISBN 9781780802022

  www.chimerabooks.co.uk

  Chimera (ki-mir’a, ki-) a creation of the imagination, a wild fantasy.

  New authors are always welcome, or if you’re already a published author and have existing work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to you, we would love to hear from you.

  This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex.

  This eBook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The characters and situations in this eBook are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright Laurel Aspen. The right of Laurel Aspen to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Contents

  Tumbling Dice

  E-mail

  TV Gardner

  Writer’s Block

  Private Hospital

  Tumbling Dice

  Red wine follows white and conversation flows with equal smoothness at what, superficially, might seem a typical dinner party. Held in the spacious surroundings of a substantial suburban house, sophisticated guests and intimate friends chat amiably around a table, enjoying good food and convivial company.

  They are old friends, united by a mutual interest, principally the somewhat less than gentle art of consensual spanking. The relaxing effects of alcohol notwithstanding, the group has an air of unspoken expectation.

  ‘And now,’ Phillip, the host taps lightly on a crystal wine glass to gain everyone’s attention, ‘as you know, in addition to dining we also like to entertain.’

  His three companions exchange smiles and knowing glances. They’ve previous experience of Phil’s euphemistically termed ‘entertainments’. ‘Tonight I intend to introduce a game which will stimulate the brain, as well as,’ Phil looks around meaningfully, ‘other areas.’

  ‘We’ve played this game several times before amongst ourselves, but never with others; I’m sure you’ll love it,’ Phil’s curvaceous wife, Louise, whispers reassuringly to Nicola and Ben, a couple some fifteen years their junior.

  ‘Right,’ Phil continues, ‘who’s heard of a book called The Diceman?’

  ‘I read that when I was a student,’ replied Nicola. ‘It’s a novel in which the hero determines the course of his life by throwing a dice.’

  ‘Exactly,’ agrees Phil enthusiastically, ‘and dice are an integral part of tonight’s CP entertainment. The order of play is not totally random, but each scenario will be ultimately determined by chance, the combinations of variables are infinite.’

  Ben, Nicola’s handsome beau, catches on immediately. ‘So the dice decides the details of each position, implement and number of strokes?’

  ‘Quite,’ agrees Phil, suavely and discreetly as effortlessly, from a drawer, he produces four identical sheets of paper, which he passes around. On each is written the following concise instructions:

  Punishment Rules.

  Two dice will be required.

  Step A (single dice) instrument of punishment.

  Light whip.

  Ruler.

  Cane.

  Riding crop.

  Strap.

  Hairbrush.

  Step B (both dice) number of strokes.

  The combined score of the two dice equals the number of strokes with the implement selected at A in the position selected at C.

  Step C (single dice) punishment position.

  On back, legs in air, knees drawn up to chest.

  Kneeling on easy chair, facing the rear, a knee on each arm.

  Two chairs back to back, kneel on one seat, hands on the other.

  Standing, wrists tied above head.

  Facedown on bed, pillows under hips.

  Bending over the back of easy chair.

  Step D Other rules.

  Follow each sequence three times to determine a trio of punishments.

  No repetition, if a previous score is repeated ignore it and continue until a new score is achieved.

  All punishments will be inflicted on the bare bottom.

  There will be a prior, over the knee ‘warm-up’ spanking during which knickers may be retained.

  Full punishment attire, including make-up, perfume, stockings, suspenders and high-heeled shoes will be worn by women.

  Once accepted by participants the rules are not negotiable.

  For a moment the room is silent while they each read Phil’s list of rules; for the women destined to be on the receiving end it’s a task marked by no small degree of trepidation.

  ‘Okay, so if I’ve got this clear, three punishments per partner, each requiring three throws to establish where, with what, and how many strokes, making nine in all,’ Nicola confirms. ‘So who tosses the dice?’

  ‘Well,’ grins Louise, ‘Phil and I have always followed the practice of letting the lady choose. After all,’ she adds rather ruefully, ‘she’s the one who is going to suffer.’

  ‘I had also thought of adding the refinement of each female employing the dice to determine who shall chastise her,’ Phil adds. ‘Say, even numbers me, odd numbers Ben?’

  After a brief debate the group agree to compromise, Phil will administer Nicola’s first punishment, Ben Louise’s. To this admirable end Phil enthusiastically busies himself, laying out the prescribed instruments of penance in a neat row on the table. Meanwhile Louise raids a Monopoly set for a pair of dice.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m in trouble from the start,’ laments Nicola, ‘I came straight here from work and these commuting clothes don’t fulfil the game’s dress requirements.’

  Her short T-shirt reveals prominent breasts and exposes her pierced navel and washboard-flat stomach. Grey, baggy trousers and sneakers complete the street-smart, hip-hop look.

  ‘Don’t fret, darling, you look as gorgeous as ever, what I wouldn’t give for a waist that slim,’ says Louise reassuringly. Nicola blushes with gratitude at this compliment from the elegant older woman, although Ben can’t help but think Louise’s luxurious figure is also something to write home about. She wears a designer label blue silk suit, beneath which the elegant movements of a fine pair of legs rustle with the seductive promise of sheer stockings.

  A pregnant pause settles on the room, the female participants nervously drain their glasses, and then as if by unspoken agreement, all eyes settle upon Phil.

  ‘Shall we begin?’ he asks rhetorically, looking gravely around the room.

  ‘This is scary,’ admits Nicola. ‘Planning this diversion was one thing, but now it’s time to take part I don’t mind confessing to being somewhat apprehensive, to say the least.’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ Louise soothes reassuringly, emboldened by prior knowledge and an extra glass or two of wine.

  To thwart any second thoughts, Ben and Phil place two dining chairs face to face a metre apart, sit down and summon the two women to stand in front of them.

  Nervously exchanging worried glances they obey, and without further preamble are unceremoniously tumbled headfirst across their respective partner’s knees. ‘I think,’ gasps Louise, caught unawares and thrust into the time honoured position before she can protest, ‘there’s been some prior collusion here.’

  ‘Sinc
e they’ve three consecutive punishments to follow, I think we can show a little clemency at this stage and allow them to remain fully clothed a little longer,’ says Phil beneficently, bringing his hand cracking down on Louise’s tightly-skirted rump.

  ‘Why not?’ agrees Ben. ‘After all, there’s the added advantage that we can smack,’ he punctuates the remark with a ringing slap to Nicola’s thinly clad rear, ‘that much harder.’

  ‘Well, forgive me,’ Nicola squirms as Ben’s palm bounces upon her buttocks, ‘but I don’t feel as if I’m being granted any special favours.’

  Ben peruses his target affectionately, tugging the trousers tightly into her cleft to define each cheek of Nicola’s pert bum to perfection. Meanwhile a series of robust slaps has already sobered the slightly tipsy Louise, who’s now aware of glowing warmth spreading outwards across her buttocks. Grasping her wrists Phil cunningly traps Louise’s skirt between her thighs, to pull it drum-tight and ensure each slap produces a satisfyingly loud report.

  Nicola’s ‘warm-up’ starts with the softest of spanks, but builds steadily in the force of application and culminates five minutes later with a series of firmer slaps, and as the heat begins to permeate her loins she becomes almost immediately turned on, responding with moans of pleasure as Ben strokes her hot cheeks, discreetly seeking more secret parts to stimulate.

  ‘Sufficient preparation, I feel,’ observes Phil, helping his flustered wife to her feet.

  ‘You feel?’ Louise retorts indignantly.

  Ben follows suit, assisting an unsteady Nicola to stand, and as the two women tentatively massage their tingling orbs and exchange rueful smiles, the quartet gather for the first throw of the dice.

  ‘As you two are absolute beginners it’s only fair I should go first,’ says Louise to her guests. ‘Phil, pass me the dice, please.’

  Louise shakes the two cubes between perfectly manicured fingers and tosses them onto the table. Ten for the number of strokes is, from everyone else’s point of view but hers, an excellent start, and Louise’s dismay deepens when she discovers they’ll be from the hated plastic ruler. Heart pounding she throws again and groans at the result.

  ‘Please, can I keep my knickers on?’ she pleads.

  ‘As long as I can retain mine for my first session too,’ says Nicola, keen to share in any clemency that’s offered.

  ‘Okay, but they’ll come off when I take over,’ warns Phil.

  If Louise has forgotten the plan to swap partners for the initial episode Ben certainly hasn’t. He escorts her to a generously padded chair, pushes a footstool into place and makes her kneel, one knee on the stool, one on the chair cushion, facing the rear. Raising the hem of her skirt he pushes her forward along the arm, her haunches straddling the end, forcing apart her thighs and emphasising the full swell of her delightful buttocks. Grimacing at the indignity of her pose Louise is only too acutely aware of her silk indigo-blue knickers cutting into her bottom divide. Matching suspenders strain at the welts of fine, mocha-hued stockings, neatly framing the plentiful expanse of the target area.

  ‘Ten,’ confirms Ben unnecessarily, as Louise is only too well aware of the extent of her forthcoming ordeal. Without waiting further for her to compose herself he applies three crisp strokes to her right cheek with a sturdy plastic ruler, followed immediately as she gasps and squirms in response with another crisp trio to her left.

  ‘Hell, that smarts!’ she wails, hips weaving animatedly, a series of parallel lines now scoring the flesh of both buttocks. Nicola winces in sympathy and thinks anxiously of what the notoriously strict Phil might inflict upon her less protectively padded seat.

  ‘And to finish,’ says Ben with a flourish, ‘last but not least, four on these deliciously plump undercheeks.’ Louise yelps loudly in response to each blow then slumps forward, relieved to have survived thus far without tears. Chivalrously Ben helps her up and, as she rocks slightly in her high-heeled sandals, Nicola solicitously examines the marks her lover has inflicted, slender fingers lightly tracing the hot red lines which now decorate her hostess’s well-padded posterior.

  ‘Looks tender,’ she says sympathetically.

  ‘Very,’ Louise confirms sadly. ‘I’m afraid Ben is far too eager a student of my husband’s.’

  Stomach churning, Nicola takes the dice. It could, she concedes three throws later, have been worse. Her sentence turns out to be five strokes, half of what Louise has suffered, delivered with the tawse while kneeling on the piano stool. Phil, ever the patrician, helps her assume the correct stance, hands on head, knees parted to maintain balance, before tugging her trousers down as far as they will go. Nicola has also secured the concession of retaining her underwear for the premiere, but her tiny thong is barely sufficient to conceal her pubic mound, and all but disappears between her cheeks.

  Phil takes up an oft-used, three-tailed leather strap. ‘You’ve only five strokes to take,’ he says sternly, ‘so I intend to ensure you most certainly feel them.’ Raising her eyes to the ceiling to avoid seeing the fearsome strop, Nicola nods mutely in reply. The first stroke swats across the very crown of her buttocks, imparting a blazing band of fire. A second then third blow follow in quick succession, giving her no time to recover, pain searing her fair skin.

  ‘Oooffffff!’ Nicola shimmies her hips in a doomed effort to dispel the rapidly spreading discomfort. She tenses ready for the next stroke, which swings in low and unrelenting. The impact, right where thighs and buttocks meet, nearly pitches her from the stool. Struggling to keep her balance she gives a shrill cry of distress which rises an octave when the final stroke, every bit as fierce, slashes down, traumatising already sore and stinging flesh.

  ‘Yeooow!’ In a flash Nicola is on her feet, performing a cute jig before her three erstwhile friends, who make little effort to conceal their amusement. ‘Oh wow, Phil you beast, that was harsh,’ she complains shrilly.

  ‘Not really,’ he replies smoothly and clearly without guilt. ‘Just wait until you see what happens to Louise. She’s on next.’

  With trembling fingers Louise takes her second turn with the dice, and is mortified to have to perch, sans knickers, with a knee on each arm of the upholstered chair in which her ordeal begun. Try as he might, which in truth is not very hard, Ben can’t wrench his eyes from the alluringly presented rear of this cultivated and refined woman. Watching, aghast and yet aroused, Nicola senses her fellow female’s humiliation; precariously knelt, clutching the chair-back for support, private parts proffered at eye level, every detail of her vagina and anus lewdly accessible to gaze or touch.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Nicola says wickedly, ‘it seems the fickle dice have decided on eight strokes with the whip.’

  ‘What?’ Louise panics. ‘Have you any idea how those leather strands cut and sting? Biting into every nook and cranny?’

  ‘Dreadful,’ Nicola agrees wickedly, and then she grasps her friend’s hands and, emboldened by the heightened sexual tension, kisses her squarely on the mouth, tongue delving between ruby lips, swirling and circling a liquid caress.

  ‘Oooh,’ Louise groans appreciatively.

  ‘I think she’s ready,’ whispers Nicola, lingeringly kissing Louise while simultaneously teasing the protuberant pleasure-bud of her clitoris.

  Thus fondled and embraced Louise is soundly whipped, Phil flicking the scourge across both full moons, the ends curling inwards to nip her sensitive inner thighs. Muffled by the Sapphic embrace, Louise jerks against her friend’s grasp as Phil applies a concluding longitudinal stroke that brings a stinging smart to the deepest recess of her bottom crack. The leather strands emerge slicked with moisture from their fleeting contact with Louise’s sopping slot. Breathing heavily, dark hair unpinned and falling in disarray across her face, willing hands help her climb stiffly from her ungainly pose.

  ‘Oh my,’ she moans, unashamedly sliding a hand between her legs while the other rubs her crimson-streaked posterior. ‘Oh my poor fanny.’ She turns and looks lasciviously at Phil. ‘A
couple of strokes more and I think I’d have come.’

  ‘Next,’ calls Ben impatiently, finding the heightened erotic tension almost unendurable and unable to wait to resume his participation. With her first cast of the dice in the second round Nicola’s flushed face bears witness to the excitement already dampening her silky slit. The stance the dots determine require her to remove her trousers, top, pants and trainers and stand to attention clad only in her white ankle socks, legs spread, wrists tied behind her with soft cord.

  Louise crows with delight at the perfect irony because, at the subsequent score Nicola is allocated the whip, which so rudely castigated her nates only minutes earlier. ‘Now we’ll see how you like it. You’ve seven to come and I hope Ben will put some force behind them.’ Louise laughs, enjoying this settling of scores, and takes advantage of Nicola’s bound hands to wrap her arms affectionately around the girl. Nicola responds avidly to her kiss, but almost chokes in surprise as, dress up around her waist, Louise grinds her moist vagina vigorously against her similarly pouting pubes. Deftly slipping a finger inside the slickly lubricated valley Louise takes Nicola to the brink of an orgasm, then abruptly withdraws, leaving her damp and disappointed; revenge is sweet.

  Ben aims the first stroke at the front of her slender young body, lightly swinging the ends of the martinet - a souvenir of a weekend misspent in Brittany - across her breasts. ‘Ah!’ Nicola gasps in shock, but her treacherous nipples react of their own accord, visibly hardening as the next two strokes fall.

  ‘Oh, oh,’ Nicola jiggles her beaten boobs, thin traces of red appear, the scent of female arousal becomes strong. Ben applies the next two lashes vertically, catching the tender tops of her thighs and eliciting a squeal from Nicola, who pushes her hips impudently forward, daring him to strike between her legs. Then she shrieks loudly when he calls her bluff, a blow across her vulnerable labia sending a harsh shock of pain coursing through her body. Doubled up, Nicola clenches her thighs to accommodate the fiery sting, which somehow conspires to confusingly mingle pleasure and pain. ‘Oh, that’s so intense, hurts so much, and yet I feel so horny,’ she moans.