LEARNING HER LESSON
A collection of five erotic spanking stories
Edited by Miranda Forbes
Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2011
ISBN 9781908086341
Copyright © Accent Press Ltd 2010
These stories have also been published in
Naughty Spanking Three ISBN 9781906373702
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Winner of Jade Erotic Awards:
Erotic Fiction Publisher 2010
"Xcite has delighted its readers with a wealth of superb titles and first class storytelling. Their titles have far outstripped the others for both quality of the product and sensual erotic content."
Contents
Learning her Lesson Chloe Devlin
Sole Indiscretion Elizabeth Coldwell
Merrilee Swings Eleanor Powell
Imagine Beverly Langland
43Him Cyanne
Learning her Lesson
by Chloe Devlin
The click of the door sounded louder in the quiet room than it actually was. Debbie knew that the sound meant she was caught. And that she would be punished.
The Jenkins had told her their rules when she’d moved in at the start of her last semester in college. Staying out too late was a major no-no. And sneaking in was an even bigger one.
She pulled herself the rest of the way through the window into her room. As she stood up, a light flashed on, revealing Mr Jenkins standing in the doorway to her bedroom. He had a wooden instrument in his hand, kind of like a fraternity paddle.
“Where have you been, Debbie?” His deep voice sent shivers through her. So far she’d behaved well enough to escape punishment, although she’d heard the cries of some of the others when they misbehaved. Although no one would tell her exactly what happened behind closed doors, they always had a sparkle in their eyes the next day when talking about it. A spurt of excitement shot through her at the thought that she’d finally discover all those secrets.
“At a party, Mr Jenkins.” Her voice quavered, despite trying to keep it steady. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He tapped the harsh wood against the palm of one hand. “I’m sorry, too, Debbie. You know you broke the rules.”
She nodded, her heart starting to pound.
“Then you know you must be punished.” The words slid against her skin like silk, arousing every nerve ending.
She shivered again, but didn’t say a word as he locked the door behind him, his body a menacing presence. She knew he’d never seriously hurt her, but she also knew that she wouldn’t escape punishment. She trembled as he walked over to her, but by clenching her fists, she managed to stay put when he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder.
“Take this off,” he said, fingering the cotton material of her shirt.
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Did he really say what she thought? Was this really going to happen?
“You heard me,” he said. “I want you to take off your blouse and skirt.” He whacked the wooden paddle against his denim-clad thigh, the sound reverberating in the room. “Now!”
Feeling self-conscious, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse and drew it off her shoulders and arms. Then she unfastened her long, flowery skirt and let it drop to the floor. Thinking she might meet up with Ricky, she’d worn her nicest undies – her garter belt and stockings with matching bra and thong.
“The bra and thong, too,” he said. “But leave the rest on.”
Wondering what on earth was going on, she reached behind her and unsnapped the tiny hook holding her bra closed. It fell forward on her arms, letting her small breasts poke free. In the cool air of the room, her nipples puckered invitingly. But she also knew it wasn’t entirely the cold that made them do that – it was also a deep-seated excitement that was building in her belly.
Mr Jenkins reached into his back pocket and withdrew two lengths of rope. “Hands out. Wrists together,” he ordered.
She swallowed hard, but obeyed. He swiftly lashed her wrists together, intertwining the rope so there was no hope that she’d be able to free herself. Not that she really wanted to. The rasp of the rope against the inside of her wrists made her wonder what it would feel like looped around her thighs or even her tits.
She quickly obeyed his command to get on the bed on her knees and stretch forward. Without her hands, she fell forward, landing on her chest, the rough blanket like sandpaper against her hard nipples. She turned her head so that her cheek rested against the cover as Mr Jenkins took her bound hands and used the second piece of rope to secure them to the headboard.
“Spread your legs,” he said.
She shuffled her knees sideways, trying to obey the best she could. With only her garter belt and stockings, she felt incredibly exposed. And with each inch that she spread her legs, her excitement built. Fresh air wafted over her pussy, making her aware that she was dripping with arousal.
“Wider.” He tapped the inside of each thigh with the wooden paddle. “I want you stretched wider.”
She kept shifting her knees apart until she thought her hips would pop. “Mr Jenkins, I –”
He ignored her hesitant words. “That’s fine. Now you’re ready. I’m not going to gag you. If you cry out or scream, I will. Do you understand?”
She nodded, the blanket harsh against her cheek. “I understand.”
“Good. Now, I’m sure you’ve heard whispers and rumours about punishment in this house.” He smoothed one hand over her taut buttocks, gently caressing. “Not only did you stay out late, but you were caught trying to sneak back in from a party. I have no doubt you went to this party to meet a boy. But if you’re not responsible enough to be home on time, then you cannot be permitted to attend such functions.”
“But ...” Her protest died off as he moved his hand to her other cheek, cupping and massaging her flesh.
“And I’m equally certain you went to meet this boy because you thought he could satisfy certain … urges you may feel. However, after tonight, I guarantee you won’t care about meeting that boy because I’m going to satisfy those urges. Remember, no crying out.” Before he finished the warning, he lifted his hand and brought it down on one side of her butt.
The sting shot through her body and she stiffened against the unexpected pain, her back going rigid. But she managed to keep from crying out, biting hard on her lower lip. Instinctively, she whimpered, “One.”
“Oh, no, my dear,” he said. “There’s no need to count the number of strokes. The number doesn’t really matter. It’s all about the pain and the pleasure.”
Both sensations collided in her gut as his blunt fingertips swirled around her cunt, parting her pussy lips and sliding through the slickness. She shivered and clenched her insides, trying to hold on to the sensations. Then another swat landed on the other butt cheek.
Debbie managed to keep from crying out each time Mr Jenkins’ palm landed on her flesh. But it was getting harder and harder to contain her arousal as he touched her pussy or labia or clit after each swat. Keeping her hips still for the punishment, she wriggled her upper body, revelling in the roughness of the blanket against her nipples, sending an aching arousal coursing through her entire body. Another whimper escaped as she clenched her insides, wondering just how much of
this pleasure and pain she could take.
“You’re positively dripping,” he crooned softly. “You must be full of those naughty urges. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
She gasped as he thrust two fingers into her tight pussy. Holding them deep inside her body, he continued spanking her ass, the slaps landing with a steadier rhythm. Just as she began to get used to the sensation, he wiggled his fingers inside her body. Then he thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy, like a hard dick fucking her.
Debbie thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Never in her wildest imagination had she ever thought something like this could happen to her. It made the things she’d done with Ricky seem positively tame and juvenile in comparison.
She knew that after tonight she wouldn’t be seeing him again anyway. Compared to Mr Jenkins, Ricky was nothing more than a bumbling boy, fumbling around her body, unable to truly arouse her.
She began to move her hips forward and back, away from his insistent fingers and then back into each stroke of his palm against her butt. Back and forth, she established a hard-driving rhythm, wondering if this was what all the girls meant when they talked about coming so hard their brains exploded. She felt like she was going to fly apart if she didn’t come pretty soon.
“Are you ready for a bit more?” Mr Jenkins asked.
“Please, oh, please,” she whispered. “Everything. I want everything.”
The rhythmic slaps stopped momentarily, although the insistent thrust of his fingers didn’t let up. She tightened her pussy around the invaders, ratcheting up the sensations streaking through her body.
Then a harder, firmer smack landed against her blushing ass and the world came to a halt. His hot palm rested on her butt, pain blossoming from the spot it was touching. Two fingers had become three in that instant, stretching her, filling her.
A small cry escaped, half muffled by the blanket beneath her cheek.
“This is your only reminder,” he warned. “If you continue to cry out, I’ll be forced to gag you.”
Silently swearing not to make another sound, she clamped her lips together, determined not to be gagged. As he wiggled his three fingers inside her pussy, he touched a place that was more sensitive than anything she had ever felt. Debbie jerked in response, feeling her pussy flood with a wetness she’d never experienced before. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she gulped in as much air as she could.
The hand started swatting her again, a swift deliberate cadence that matched his finger-fucking tempo. The pain and pleasure mingled through her body, touching off fireworks in every nerve ending, especially throughout her pussy. “Oh, oh! Oh, yes! Please!” She begged him to make her come.
Every muscle in her body tightened as she soared towards her climax. She panted through the waves as he gave one final thrust of his fingers and one final smack of his hand. His thumb pressed hard against her throbbing clit and the pressure sent her over the edge.
Gasping for air, she arched her back. Her tits throbbed with sensation and her nipples felt like they would burst against the blanket. Her mind blanked out with the overpowering sensations. Finally she began to come down off her orgasmic high.
As her heart thudded in her chest, she realised she was still stretched out on the rough blanket with her knees spread bone-crackingly wide. Mr Jenkins still had three fingers buried deep inside her spasming pussy. He wiggled them again. “Ready for the second part of your punishment?”
Her eyes widened. There was more? She didn’t know how much more her body could take. So much pleasure was fizzing through her veins like champagne, she felt drunk on the sensations.
Ed Jenkins chuckled to himself as he watched Debbie’s expressive face. He’d been waiting weeks for the opportunity to discipline her. And now that it was here, he was going to enjoy it to the fullest extent. Her perky tits and ripe nipples poking through the tight T-shirts always called to him, crying out for attention. For his attention.
That would be the lesson next time. Taming her tits. But this time, it was her ass he wanted to blister. Her beautiful butt cheeks that he wanted red-hot and blushing beneath his hands.
He reached into his pocket for one final item. When he opened his hand, a pair of silver Ben Wa balls lay in his palm. Just the thing, he thought. With the way she had responded to his spanking and finger-fucking, she would go through the roof when he paddled her with these babies in.
He slowly withdrew his fingers from her cunt, trying to keep as much juice on them as possible so he could lube up the Ben Wa balls. When they were slick, he gently popped the first one in.
“Oh!” Surprise coloured her voice.
“One more, my dear,” he said, nudging the second silver sphere into her tight hole.
“Oh, God!” she whimpered, but didn’t break her position.
He smoothed his finger over her puckered hole, amazed that she had taken both balls so easily. No sign remained of the silver pleasure balls. The only thing visible was the wire leading to the control box. “We’ll start off small and see what happens. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“To be paddled.”
She swallowed, then squirmed as he turned the control box to the first setting. “I-I guess so.”
He turned and picked up his old fraternity paddle. Who would ever have imagined the uses he would find for it? Certainly not his strait-laced frat brothers. They’d be having mini-strokes if they could see him now. And they sure as hell wouldn’t have any idea what to do with the delectably blushing female bottom in front of him that clenched and unclenched as it waited for his paddling.
He brought the wooden instrument down on each cheek in turn, drawing a soft grunt from the girl. But no cries floated back to him. It pleased him that she learned so quickly. After a few more swats, he turned up the vibrations on the Ben Wa balls to the medium level.
He resumed his paddling as her hips started to weave back and forth. He licked his lips, imagining that he was plunging his rock-hard dick in between those red-hot cheeks, plundering her sweet ass. Behind the tight zipper of his jeans, his dick lengthened even more. But tonight wasn’t about him or his dick. It was about punishing Debbie – and doing it in such a manner that guaranteed she would be craving his punishment for months to come.
Soft moans filled his ears as he continued the paddling. But her hips never stopped their movement. When she started a pumping movement, he increased the vibrations from the Ben Wa balls, flipping the switch to high. In between smacks, he could hear the whine of the balls, even snuggled deeply inside her ass. She raised her butt time and time again to his paddle, tiny grunts escaping from her with each smack.
He reached in between her legs, sliding his fingers along her puffy labia. Her juice coated his fingers as he played with her pussy.
“Oh, please,” she whimpered. “Please, I need to come again.”
“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”
She twisted her head to the other side, her chest still resting on the blanket. “I don’t know. Please … just let me come.”
He continued smacking her behind as he slid his fingertip farther, flicking her clit repeatedly. Her groans grew louder, more desperate. Finally, ready to give her another orgasm, he thrust his finger deep into her pussy, feeling her muscles tighten around him. “OK, Debbie. Come now!”
She let out a small cry, then collapsed against the bed, her entire body shaking with her orgasm. He stopped the paddling and withdrew his finger from her pussy, but let the Ben Wa balls continue buzzing away, each vibration multiplying until she arched her back again.
Debbie nearly cried with relief as the painful smacks of the paddle ceased. But the incredible vibrations from whatever Mr Jenkins had stuffed in her ass continued unabated. All she could do was squeeze her muscles tightly until she could squeeze no more. Several more strong spasms shook her body as she gulped in air.
The intensity waned as he slowly turned the control box to low. She gav
e a shuddering sigh, trying to come to terms with her complete abandoned behaviour. But all she could do was wait for her heart to stop pounding so loudly and her pulse to slow down. Mr Jenkins brushed back a strand of damp hair from her face. She opened her eyes, staring at him through a haze of pleasure.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
Which one, she thought? The lesson to not come home late, or the one about deliberately coming home late so she could get more of this delicious punishment. She nodded.
“Good.” He began to untie her hands from the headboard. “Just remember the consequences if you decide to stay out late.”
“Oh, I will,” she promised, with a secret little smile. “I will.”
Sole Indiscretion
by Elizabeth Coldwell
“I hate it when beautiful women wear ugly shoes,” the Professor says.
I pause in the act of setting down his coffee cup, realising that he is staring at my feet.
“Flip-flops,” he continues, “are an abomination. Yes, I know they have their place, but that’s on the beach, or at the swimming pool – never, never in the street or at the office. Not only do they encourage such a lazy style of walking, they offer no support to the arch of the foot and they cause the toes to claw. You’re setting yourself up for all kinds of possible problems, you know, particularly as you have such high, delicate arches. Shin splints, tendonitis. I could show you diagrams …”
I want to tell him that these aren’t just flip-flops. They’re a cut above the average cheap plastic beach shoe, with their scattering of multi-coloured jewels across the top, and until this moment I thought they were quite pretty. But he doesn’t give me a chance to explain any of that. Neither does he pull open one of the hefty medical textbooks which litter his desk to show me graphic images of ruined feet. Instead, he merely says, “In future, Louise, I would appreciate it if you wore more appropriate footwear to work.”
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