by Ray Gordon
'We're back to the report book then?'
'We are, yes,' he confirmed. 'We're back to square one. You can't have it both ways.'
'The report book - you'll have to change it again,' she pointed out.
'It's as it was, Emily,' he admitted. 'I hadn't got round to changing it so it will stay as it was.'
'But...' She faltered, unsure whether to voice any more thoughts.
'But what?' he encouraged.
'This is blackmail,' she accused.
'Oh dear, we really are back to square one, aren't we?'
'What you're saying is that I'll be allowed out if I let you touch me,' she said frankly. 'In my book that's blackmail.'
Arthur watched her closely and then came to a decision. 'Come with me, there's something I want to show you.'
Following him upstairs, Emily wondered what he was up to now, and gasped as he opened the door to his spare bedroom and she saw the wooden chair positioned in the centre of the floor. It was completely devoid of any other furniture.
'What's that for?' she asked, fearing she knew the answer all too well as he placed a hand on her shoulder, ushered her inside and closed and locked the door behind them, as though cutting her off from the outside world completely.
'I told you I was preparing a little surprise for you, now bend over the back of the chair,' he instructed forthrightly, straight to the point.
'No,' she objected, shaking her head in trepidation, 'this isn't right—'
'You'll only make it worse for yourself if you argue,' he snapped, his mood alarming her. 'Surely you've learned that much by now.'
'Why are you going to punish me?' she asked.
'Because we're starting again, from square one,' he told her uncompromisingly.
'But I haven't done anything wrong,' she demurred. 'I've already said that I'll be staying in and studying. Besides, you don't have your silly evidence against me now. The photographs are—'
'In a safe place,' he cut in, his lips curling into a sly smile. 'Bend over the chair, Emily.'
'You lied to me,' she gasped. 'You said you'd destroyed them.'
'Yes, I lied to you,' he confirmed.
'I thought we were getting on so well,' she complained desperately. 'I thought you were my friend, that you were going to help me.'
'Bend over the back of the chair, young lady,' he ordered determinedly. 'You don't want me to ring your father, do you? Please, let's not go through all that again.'
Eyeing the locked door and reluctantly accepting her fate, knowing it was useless to rebel, she leant forward over the piece of furniture forlornly, closed her eyes and grimaced as he folded her skirt up over her back and pulled her new panties down to her knees. She thought she'd known confusion before, but nothing compared to this. With a myriad thoughts battering her tormented mind as her neighbour ran his fingertips over the naked flesh of her rounded buttocks, she didn't know what to do for the best any more.
'Number one,' Arthur growled, the palm of his hand meeting the taut flesh of Emily's naked bottom with a resounding slap. Her young body jerking with each gruelling strike, the chair creaking as it rocked beneath her, she bravely uttered not a sound as tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't win, she knew, her glowing buttocks stinging as Arthur continued the merciless spanking.
Pinning her down as she tried to stand upright after the sixth, he spanked her even harder for her futile show of rebellion. With the pain becoming intense as the brute continued to pound the naked globes of her stinging bottom, the bending girl could suppress a pitiful sob no longer. Her tensed body trembling uncontrollably, she prayed for him to halt the gruelling punishment. She couldn't endure much more, she knew, as tears blurred her eyes and dripped onto the seat of the chair beneath her red face.
'No more,' she sobbed, her lovely new panties now stretched around her ankles. 'I can't take any more.' And to her surprise he actually did desist and let her stand so she could rub her scorched rear.
'All right,' he relented, breathing a little heavily from the exertion, 'that's enough for now. But you'll behave yourself properly in my house, have you got that?'
'I have behaved myself,' she sulked. 'Just because I wouldn't allow you to touch me like you want to.'
'You still don't understand, do you?' he snapped. 'This has nothing to do with me. But I can't waste any more time trying to explain that to you. I'm going to get on with some work now. Call me if you need anything.'
'You can't leave me shut in here,' Emily protested, pulling her panties back up, wincing as they touched her scalded bottom.
'I have no choice,' Arthur said dismissively. 'Now we're back to doing things your father's way I'm going to have to keep my eye on you.'
'This is ridiculous,' she complained. 'Whatever I do I can't win.'
'This isn't a game, Emily,' he stated grimly. 'As I once said, there are no winners. You're going to have to decide once and for all what it is you want. I'll leave you to contemplate that. Think hard, young lady. Think hard.'
Listening to the door being locked from the outside, Emily gazed out of the window at the garden, and with her buttocks throbbing she wondered whether she should yield to the man. It might well make her life a whole lot less complicated if she did.
'Arthur,' she called, banging on the locked door as she quickly came to a decision. 'Arthur, I need to talk to you.'
'What is it?' he asked impatiently, unlocking and opening the door. 'What is it? I'm trying to get on with some work.'
'Arthur...' Emily took a deep breath and summoned every ounce of courage she had. 'I... I agree,' she said tentatively.
'You agree to what?' he pressed, apparently with little interest.
'I agree to allow you to do whatever you deem necessary to help educate me,' she conceded. 'If you still want to help me, that is.'
Arthur studied her for long, tense moments. 'You'd better come downstairs,' he said sternly, clearly still disillusioned with her. 'I think we need to have a serious talk about this.'
'There's nothing to talk about,' she said, following him back down the stairs to the lounge. 'I've come to a decision, and that's that.'
'Sit down, Emily,' he ordered. 'Now, firstly,' he started once she was sitting on his sofa, her face grimacing against the sore contact. 'You must understand once and for all that I wasn't doing what I was doing - touching you like I did - for my own benefit or gratification. You have to get that silly notion out of your head, otherwise far from me being able to help you, to become your ally, we'll both end up in trouble. Loose talk would be extremely dangerous. Do you understand me?'
'I'm sorry,' she meekly apologised, feeling guilty for the things she'd accused him of. 'I didn't mean any offence, and I don't want to get you in any trouble.'
'It's not what I want, Emily,' he insisted. 'I was doing what I did for you, to help you. Not for me.'
'Give me all the photographs and clean the others off your computer, and we'll be friends again,' she said.
'Ah, so that's what this is all about,' he mused.
'I don't want any trouble when my parents get home,' she said, 'so you win.'
'I can't give you the photographs,' he announced.
'Why not? I'm agreeing to...'
'Because I've already destroyed them,' he told her. 'I only told you I still had them to concentrate your mind.'
'Concentrate my mind?'
'Because I've been getting nowhere with you, Emily. Whatever I've tried to do you've battled against me.'
'Well I'm not battling now.'
'So what is it you want?'
Emily thought for a while, then admitted, 'I don't know what I want. I'm mixed up. I'm confused about Christine, I'm confused about Jack, I'm confused about you, I'm confused about everything. I don't know what I want, or what to do for the best.'
'Discipline, Emily,' he stated. 'You need discipline.'
'No, not another spanking,' she pleaded. 'I couldn't take any more.'
'I know it's not easy for you t
o agree to discipline after years without it.'
'Without it?' she protested.
'You might have a strict father,' he conceded, 'but you've certainly not been properly disciplined. Discipline isn't just a matter of doing what you're told, you know. There's far more to it than that.'
'All right, I'll do it,' she agreed.
'Do what?'
'Allow you to discipline me.'
Arthur shook his head. 'It's not simply a case of that.'
'Arthur, I've come to a decision,' she repeated. 'Please don't make this more difficult for me than it already is. I'm in your hands again now. I'm putting myself completely in your hands.'
'Why, Emily?' he enquired, eyeing her closely. 'Why have you suddenly decided this?'
'Because I'm fed up and I want to change things,' she explained. 'Just tell me what it is you want me to do; what it is you want from me.'
Arthur rubbed his chin pensively. 'Before we go any further,' he said, 'I must be sure you mean what you say, that you're not going to waste even more of my time.'
'I won't waste your time, I promise,' she said. 'Just tell me what you want me to do.' Emily knew she really had given in, had put herself in the hands of her next-door neighbour. Was she doing the right thing? He'd manipulated her, she reflected. He'd manipulated her and the situation, using his convoluted psychology to ensnare her. She sensed that, but still she went with it.
'This is your last chance, Emily,' he warned her. 'You do understand that, don't you?'
'Yes, I understand,' she replied.
'Whatever happens from hereon in, it's your decision, yes?'
'Yes,' she whispered breathlessly. 'Just tell me what to do.'
The man ruminated for a while longer. 'Very well, young lady,' he eventually said. 'But as we've wasted a number of days I'm going to throw you in at the deep end. Take your skirt and blouse off.'
'Do I have to?' she asked, immediately realising she was in danger of falling at the first hurdle.
'I told you to remove your blouse and skirt,' he snapped. 'Do it, or have I just spent the last ten minutes listening to insincere, time-wasting platitudes?'
Unbuttoning her blouse, Emily felt her face blushing as she dropped it onto the sofa. With her nipples stirring shamefully she sat coyly before her neighbour in her skirt and bra. It was embarrassing in the extreme, but now she was committed to doing exactly as Arthur said.
'You do agree to this?' he asked her again, his eyes moving from her face to her breasts, and then back up again.
'Yes,' she answered softly.
'You agree to put yourself in my hands utterly?'
She nodded.
'Good,' he smiled, 'then I think we're getting somewhere at last.'
Emily nodded, despite being less confident than him about that.
'Are you aroused, my dear?' he suddenly asked, catching the girl completely by surprise.
'No,' she gasped. 'I... no.'
'Are you sure about that?' he pressed. 'I want an honest answer; are you aroused?'
'Yes,' she said, responding to his first question and instantly realising that sounded wrong. 'I mean, no.'
'You want me to lie to your parents, don't you?'
'Lie?'
'That's what it amounts to, if I cover for you,' he said. 'You know how much I hate lying, yet you want me to hide your clothes here so you can sneak round and get changed before going out without their knowledge.'
Emily felt ashamed having it spelled out to her so frankly. 'Yes, I suppose I do.' How far, she wondered, was this going to go? If she allowed Arthur to touch her, if it was all a part of her 'education', would he expect her to touch him in return? No, surely not. That was unthinkable, ridiculous, and she banished the thought from her head. She had to keep Arthur on her side, and that meant dismissing ideas that would anger him if he knew she was having them. Whatever happened she had to keep Arthur on her side, she repeated the mantra over and over in her head.
'Take off your skirt,' he ordered her, and without question, knowing it had to be done, she stood, slipped out of the light garment, and again sat meekly on the front edge of the sofa, her stomach churning nervously as he joined her there. 'Now, are you ready?' he asked.
Emily took a deep breath, her breasts filling her bra deliciously, squeezing her cleavage tight. 'Yes, I think so,' she whispered.
As Arthur's hand lifted from his thigh and cupped the smooth firmness of her left breast Emily stiffened, closely watching his expression. He squeezed several times, and then his fingers moved, fastening to her nipple through the lacy white cup, pinching, pulling and rolling, and she tried to convince herself that he was doing this to help her and that she was enjoying it. This was all part of the discipline, she told herself, to check her responses, to confirm her acceptance of his methods. This was all for her own good. It had nothing to do with sex, or with Arthur's own gratification. It was to help her, nothing more.
'You're doing very well,' Arthur drawled, his fingertips encircling the protruding outline of her erect nipple. 'Are you enjoying it?'
'I... yes,' she confessed in hushed, uncertain tones, not wanting to displease the man.
'Good girl,' he cajoled, and as he moved to her right breast Emily felt her stomach somersault again. The feel of him touching her wasn't at all unpleasant, she secretly admitted. The concept of her older neighbour touching her was still alien, but the physical reality was rather exciting - though she was ashamed to admit it to herself, let alone to him. The nagging doubt that this was wrong still tugged at her conscience. Arthur was old enough to be her... he was a similar age to her father. But he was experienced and he was sharing that experience to teach her - to help her. It would be obtuse and ungrateful of her not to match his efforts.
As Arthur stroked her nipples and massaged her firm, youthful breasts, Emily felt her clitoris stirring between her wet sex lips, her juices of arousal seeping between the engorged petals into her new silk panties. Knowing an orgasm would result if Arthur carried on touching her, she began to secretly hope he would, even though she was still torn between what was right and what was wrong.
'Now,' he said, his voice quiet, a little husky, 'I'm going to take your bra off,' he told her, and her breath catching in her throat, she was unable to voice any response.
He watched her closely for any signs of another rebellion, and seeing none he embraced her and fiddled with the fastening behind her back. It took him a few attempts, but eventually the bra straps slackened as the catch came free, and he leaned back to watch the flimsy lace fall away and admired the way her naked breasts sprang free, not even the slightest hint of any sag, the cleavage still deep and inviting even without the constrictions of the bra.
'Beautiful,' he murmured, the compliment making her blush just as much as the blatant admiration of her naked breasts did. 'You are truly beautiful, Emily.' With his eyes fixed to her delicious fruits, he untangled the bra from her wrist and left it discarded between them.
'Now, don't move,' he ordered, and she watched, mesmerised, as he slowly leaned forward and kissed one of her nipples. She gasped and almost moved back away from him, but remained steadfast, her back straight and her shoulders held proudly as his mouth opened and he sucked the nipple into his mouth. He was watching her, looking up into her face to catch any warning signs of a mutiny. Even at this stage he was taking nothing for granted.
'Arthur,' she whispered, her thoughts in turmoil, 'are you sure about this?'
'You're in my hands,' he said, releasing her erect, glistening nipple from his mouth, 'and it's too late now for any doubts. There's no going back now, Emily. You know that as much as I do.'
'Perhaps, but—'
'There's no perhaps about it,' he stopped her, placing a fingertip to her lips, silencing her with his stare. 'That's better,' he went on. 'Now, no more silliness please, young lady. You've put yourself in my hands, and there's no going back.'
He waited a few more seconds, and then sucked her other nipple betwee
n his lips. He nipped with his teeth causing Emily to inhale sharply, arching her back, inadvertently feeding more of her succulent breast into his grateful mouth. He sucked and licked and gnawed, the bud growing under the avaricious attention.
'Arthur, you shouldn't be doing this,' she sighed ineffectually, and he possessively mauled her other breast and slipped an arm around her waist to pull her even closer to him. Her head lolled back, her breast becoming wetter with his saliva as he devoured more of the smooth flesh, trying to get as much of it into his mouth as he could.
Then he pulled away and stared at her again. 'You're not going to change your mind again, are you?' he challenged.
'N-no,' Emily sighed.
'Good girl.' He slipped one hand back beneath a cushion and produced the short length of white rope. 'But let's just help you keep to that conviction, shall we?
Emily eyed the rope warily. 'Really, there's no need to do that.'
'Maybe,' he mused, 'maybe not. But I always think a little insurance never goes amiss.'
Emily said no more, and obeyed resignedly as he told her to cross her wrists and twist her torso a little so he could wrap the rope around them a few times and bind them securely together.
'You're doing very well, my dear,' he repeated, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her back to face him, admiring her naked, vulnerable breasts. 'I'm pleased with your progress.'
'You're not going to spank me again, are you?' she asked timidly, knowing by now that the rope usually signified just that. 'My bottom's still sore from the last time.'
'No, Emily,' he smiled, 'I'm not going to spank you again. For the moment, at least,' he added.
'You're a virgin, Emily,' he went on, his hands stroking her shoulders, then down to her upper arms.
'Yes,' she confirmed, uneasily aware that her breasts were completely at the mercy of his whims, 'I've already told you that.'
'I know you have, but I just want to be sure.' He stood up in front of her. 'Christine has so many advantages over you,' he stated, 'so it's time we levelled the playing field somewhat.'
'Arthur, what do you mean?' she asked anxiously, uncomfortably aware of his groin hovering level with her face. 'I don't think that I...'