Hansel and Greta

Greta checked her watch once more. With a sigh she crossed to the large leather armchair that dominated the small study. She sat neatly down, crossing long legs as a small frown creased her pretty brow. He was late, again; But these days Hansel was always late; it was as if he enjoyed keeping her waiting.

She relaxed slightly into the chair, remembering that it had been a present from her old private Tutor. The only sign of her irritation was the soft drumming of her sharp fingernails on the worn leather arm.

Greta's mind drifted back to the extra crammer lessons she had taken whilst at college. To the time that Hansel, who was never late in those days, had been infatuated enough to follow her through the woods to her Tutors cottage.

Of course he pretended not to be following her; sometimes she could see him through the trees, sometimes not; but she was aware of his presence, felt an almost magnetic pull towards him. She hadn't wanted him to follow; her lessons were a private affair; but her own infatuation with him was too strong and she didn't have the will to send him away.

After all he was a fine looking young man, with a well built athletic body. So she had arrived at Madame's house with her face slightly flushed and her breath only just under control. She had neither acknowledged his presence nor been able to get him out of her mind; consequently she was unprepared and could not keep her thoughts on her lesson.

Madame had not been one to let such absent mindedness slip by.

"Greta!" She had said, "You are not concentrating. Why should I allow you to waste my time?"

Greta had blushed. "Madame I am sorry. Usually I have no problem paying attention but today..."

Greta had looked imploringly into her teachers green eyes, willing her to understand, unwilling to confess the source of her distraction. Her face was hot with her own confusion. Madame was only a few years older than was, surely she understood these things?

Madame, however, took her responsibilities as a tutor very seriously. "I am very disappointed Greta; Usually you are such a good student. You work hard, and despite being only sixteen..."

Greta still couldn't concentrate. 'Sixteen and never been kissed' was the only thought in her head; 'at least never kissed by Hansel'.

She looked at the floor as an image of just such a thing grew in her imagination. After a time she became aware that Madame was silent, and looked up once more.

Once she was sure that she had Greta's attention Madame spoke. "You know what this means Greta. You know that I must punish you." She paused, letting her words sink in. "Go to the chair. Bend over one arm, and hold onto the other."

Greta could hardly believe that this was happening. She understood that her agreement with the tutor allowed for this sort of discipline, but up to now it simply had not been necessary. The mere threat had been enough to ensure good results. 'This was all because of Hansel', she thought; 'because of a boy I am to be punished. It isn't fair.'

Even so, she did as she was told. Inwardly she cursed as she felt the cool leather against her thighs; cursed her short skirt. The skirt, which, if she was honest, she had worn to entice him and which now would offer her scant protection. One arm of the chair pushed against her thighs, rounding her backside.

She held onto the other as instructed, pushing her face into the chairs' seat, smelling the leather of its cover for the first time.

"It is difficult to begin with," said Madame. "You must be brave. If you are not then I shall start again."

Greta could feel her skirt being firmly raised, and so she buried her face further into the chair, feeling her own hot breath bouncing off the leather.

The first was a sharp stinging shock, quickly followed by the second, on the other cheek, which left her holding her breath. It hurt!.

She could feel the imprints left by Madame's hand as if her soft skin had been branded. She had thought that her tutor would just get straight on with it; but Madame waited until Greta was breathing again, waited until her bottom started to feel as hot as her face did. Greta was learning a lesson in more ways than one.

The sound of smacks three and four echoed around the room and Greta instinctively knew that she would never forget the very distinctiveness of the noise of palm upon posterior. Neither would she forget the sharp heat that now throbbed across her bottom.

Madame began gently to pull Greta's knickers down over her reddened buttocks. "The last two will be on the bare." It was a statement of fact and brooked no argument from the younger woman; Greta felt her flimsy underwear settle at half mast on her legs and braced herself.

Madame waited again; waited until the tension in the body of her pupil slightly dissipated. Then was the time to strike.

Number five was harder than the others and for the first time Greta began to lose control. "Aaah!" She gasped and then sucked her breath in. At the same time she was intensely aware of Madame's command to be brave, so, willing herself to be just that she lifted her reddened cheeks to meet smack number six.

Madame had paused once more and Greta became aware of the picture she must make as her thighs began to tremble with the strain of holding her position. She was brave though, and held it; and the longer she held her position the more the throbbing in her backside spread, only answered by a mysterious throbbing in her belly.

Involuntarily her thigh muscles flexed, widening her legs and without really realising what she was doing Greta pushed her pelvis against the arm of the chair.

Madame, who might have been waiting for just such a sign, brought her hand skilfully down for smack number six. It was harder than before, just on the spot where cheek became thigh and Greta was unable to stop herself crying out. As she did so her back arched and her head rose up from the seat of the chair.

Her eyes were open wide at the shock of it - and were shocked even more to see Hansel looking through the window. Pressed up against the glass his face appeared distorted by a mixture of lust and wonder. "Oh no..!" wailed the young woman.

Greta had never seen Madame move so fast.

She was out of the room and back again, dragging a complaining Hansel by the earlobe, almost before Greta had a chance to get up out of the chair and to straighten her skirt. She certainly didn't have time to do anything with her knickers which settled in a lacy pile at her feet.

Never before had she seen Madame so angry either. Her tutor was hissing her words right into the ear that she held in such an impressive grip.

"What were you doing? Creeping about outside my home..... A peeping tom, that's what you are! I shall call the police!"

"No, please, anything but that.." said Hansel. "I followed Greta, I was just waiting for her. I'm sorry that I looked in."

Madame looked across at Greta, who nodded that this was the truth. Then she turned back to the hapless Hansel. "Stalking, now is it? Then I shall definitely have to call the police."

"Please, Madame..., I really will do anything to make amends; it was just the thought of seeing Greta that caused my bad behaviour.."

Greta noted that despite his young man's frame, Madame was able to control Hansel almost effortlessly, simply through the grip she exerted on his ear. Whereas before she had been flattered by his attentions she now began to wonder if Hansel was quite the man he had pretended to be.

Madame turned once more to Greta. She had the air of someone who could not be denied. "He has seen you being punished. His crime is much greater than yours. It is only fair that in order to make amends he gets more, much more, of the same."

"No, please, not that!" Wailed Hansel.

"It's that or the police." Replied Madame.

Hansel looked to Greta for support but she surprised herself by finding it impossible to take his side. She wanted to see him taking a spanking, just as he had seen her. Seeing the resolution in her face Hansel nodded his acquiescence.

"Say it." Said Madame. "Say, I deserve to be punished for being a peeping tom." If anything she squeezed his ear even harder than she had before.

"Aaah!" Said Hansel. Quickly following it with "Yes! Punish me. I deserve it for looking through your window."

Madame finally relinquished her grip on the now sulky young man. "I believe you know which position to assume." She said.

Reluctantly Hansel moved over to the leather armchair and stood just as Greta had so recently stood. As he began to place himself on the chair's arm Madame insisted that he stand once more.

"Oh no, it won't be that easy young man. You will receive your spanking on a bared backside. Take your trousers down. Now!"

"Please.., Madame.." said Hansel, but he soon began to unbuckle his trousers when he saw the older woman's hand move towards the telephone. Quickly, he placed himself exactly as Greta had been, his firmly muscled buttocks pointing skywards, barely covered by his underpants.

Greta had remained rooted to the spot until this moment but the sight of her object of desire spread so temptingly before her was now almost too much too bear. She took a step nearer to the reclining man and then another. She wanted to see everything. She was going enjoy this.

Madame took the younger woman's hand in her own. "You shall assist me." She said. "He is strong and I will need your help to keep him in his place."

The two women looked into each others eyes and a silent communication passed between them. Tutor and Pupil moved towards their next subject of research.

Gently, almost teasing, Greta slid her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and pulled so that they revealed his snow white cheeks. She had never been so close to a Man's cock before, had never seen a pair of balls. As she freed them from the clothing Hansel groaned, and groaned again as, against his will, his underwear caught on his stiffening cock leaving Greta to pull it swiftly free.

The turmoil in Greta's own belly first stirred by her own spanking stirred again at her first sight of his proud and arrogant manhood.

She moved round to one side of the chair, ready to hold Hansel in position. She was close enough to feel his hot breath on her thighs. Suddenly aware of her feminine power she parted her legs slightly, secretly hoping he could see her knickerless, see her throbbing pussy lips.

Madame too had assumed her previous position and it was not long before she assumed her previous action as well. The sound of spanking filled the small study.

This though was not a mere six of the best; Madame now had two pupils to teach, though they would learn their lessons in different ways.

Neither was it a hurried affair; she paced the rise and fall of her hand carefully, raising the temperature in the reddening cheeks before her gradually. As the temperature rose so the colour changed.

Hansel's bottom became pink and then red, distinct handprints became indistinct as reddened skin became all any of them could make out.

At first Hansel took his punishment well, but soon he began to grind his hips against the arm of the chair. "If you rub your cock against that chair and come it will be the worse for you!" Said Madame.

Hansel tried not too. Greta could see his efforts but he was in a sea of pleasure and pain and could not help himself. "Don't you dare come Hansel!" She said, echoing Madame's intention, but the thought of him rubbing his hardness against the leather as Madame stroked his backside was stirring her own desires even more.

Her own recent experience was too close to his for it to be otherwise. Greta found herself longing to touch herself as she did sometimes in her bed at night, longing to be touched as she had never been touched before.

Madame, who noticed everything, saw now that Greta's breathing was mirroring the groans of the young man lying in front of her and her face was almost as flushed as his.

Madame was, after all, a mistress of her art. To be honest, the lips of her own pussy were pulsing and lubricating. 'Soon' she thought. 'Soon it will be time.'

For the last few strokes of her strong right arm Madame made Greta hold the young man down. His shirt had long since fallen towards his shoulders revealing a finely muscled torso. To hold him Greta had to move forward so that his head was practically between her legs. She placed her hands on his shoulder blades and for the first time felt his flesh under hers. It was electric.

Her skirt fell forward over his head. She felt his hot breath, his wet lips on her thigh. It was too much - Greta began to groan.

"Lick her!" Commanded Madame, and Hansel instinctively knew where. Completely under the olfer woman's command he strained his neck and his tongue. Two sets of lips parted.

The first touch of his tongue was the most shocking, most enjoyable thing that Greta had ever felt. The folds of her pussy, already wet, parted to allow him entrance, his second stroke found her clitoris. Greta began to grind her pelvis against him, riding his face. Hard.

She opened her eyes to see his straining back, to see Madame stripping off her own skirt, to see stockinged thigh and crimson arse and to feel the power of his subjugated and straining body.

"Aaah!" Said Greta, grinding, "Aaah...Aaaaah!"

Madame spanked him once more, then reached under and milked his thrusting cock.

Greta was overcome and coming all at once, grinding, groaning against his face.

Roused from her reverie, Greta glanced at her watch once more. It was two hours later. Hansel had of course arrived, eventually; but that was his way of saying, in a small quiet way, 'Punish me, Madame.' He seemed to need these excuses.

For her the first sight of his spanked arse had been enough to instill a lifetime's desire. She looked down at his now familiar chastised buttocks and gently fixed her hand around his thick manhood. Gently she stroked his now pierced cock and whispered sweet harshness into his ear.