Second Interlude

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Ava Frasch shivered and wondered how she ought to conclude the session. She really ought to be thinking about going. She had a long drive ahead of her, after all. Then she had a sudden inspiration. "Helen," she asked, "What day is it of George's No Sex For A Month?"

Helen Shagton frowned. "I can't remember, Ava," she said, obviously having slipped out of submissive mode. She turned to her husband. "George?" she asked.

"Please, Ma'am," he replied, "It's day thirty." Ava Frasch looked at him. Then she looked at his penis. Certainly it looked like day thirty.

"I think, bad boy," she said, "that thirty days does make a month. It's time we gave you some real teasing. With a sting in the tail, of course." The Shagtons both looked at her expectantly. "What we will do, is that Helen here will lie down, you will put that naughty penis inside her, where it rather obviously wants to be, and then I will apply a Sex Thrashing of a dozen whacks."

Helen Shagton smiled. "And the sting, Ma'am?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," said Ava Frasch, "the sting. Well, the sting of your Sex Thrashing, Georgie Boy," she stroked his cheek as she spoke, "No humping her, of course. And also, should you spunk before I get to the end, then it's another No Sex For A Month to enable you to contemplate your naughtiness at length."

George Shagton flushed, "Oh, Ma'am," he said. Helen Shagton merely giggled and rubbed her cunt.

Helen Shagton lay down enticingly. With a slight sigh, George Shagton moved down onto his wife, "Uhhhhhhh," he said, in obvious pleasure as his erection moved inside her.

Helen Shagton said, virtuously, "Don't think you're going to get treats like this every time, bad boy." Ava Frasch picked up the cane.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Uh," said George Shagton, with a jump. "One, Ma'am," he said

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Ohh," he said, "two, Ma'am."

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

He shivered as he jumped slightly at the sting of the cane, and then gasped slightly at the thrill of the fuck which resulted from the jump. "Three, Ma'am," he said.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Ohhhh, ohhhh....four, Ma'am," he ground out.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Ahhhhh," he said, his face turned upwards, "six, Ma'am, thank you Ma'am."

Helen Shagton giggled. "Half way, dearest. Think you can hold off for another half dozen without cumming?" The look of agony on his face told Ava Frasch that George Shagton wasn't at all sure.

She rubbed her own cunt to get some cunt scent onto her fingers, and then held her hand next to his nose. "You like my cunt scent, don't you, Georgie Boy?" she asked, teasingly. "Next time we meet, you may get to sample me, as well. If you've been a good boy, of course." He moaned at the teasing.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

He jumped again, strongly, this time. "Eight, Ma'am, oh, eight Ma'am, oh, oh OHHHHHHHHH,"

Helen Shagton said, "Ooops....WHAT a bad boy. He's spunking inside me, Ava."

Ava Frasch shook her head. "Oh well, George. You were warned. No Sex now for another month. And still four whacks of your Sex Thrashing." He turned his head towards her in mental turmoil. She always loved it when men and boys looked hopelessly at her like that, knowing that there was no chance of any mercy from her, no chance of any reprieve.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Aggghhhhhhhh," he gasped. The caning obviously now hurt him far more than it had done before, now that he'd spunked. "Oh, ten, Ma'am," he gasped.

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

Swishhhthwackkkkkk

"Twelve, twelve, ohhhhhhh, twelve,THANK you, Ma'am," he said, arching his head back, "thank you for caning this bad boy so hard."

Ava Frasch giggled. "My pleasure, of course," she said.

From the floor, Helen Shagton said, brightly, "Now that we've all had our fun, I think tea and cakes for us both, Ava?" She nodded in reply. It sounded a good idea to her. "Get yourself out of me, George, and think of the fond memory of what my cunt feels like, since you won't have the pleasure for another month." Ava Frasch grinned as George Shagton closed his eyes and moaned slightly. He got up, however, and, with obvious resignation, put on his black frilly apron in order to resume his maid's duties. Ava Frasch helped Helen Shagton to her feet. Then they both walked into the lounge and sat down, comfortably.

Tea and cakes were forthcoming. "You may eat yours in the kitchen," Helen Shagton said, and her husband curtseyed. They were good. "Baked them himself," Helen Shagton said, mildly. Then she went on, "It's been really good having you here, Ava," she said, "do feel free to call again whenever you wish....a little notice is useful so I can ensure that the kiddies are out of the way, of course."

Ava Frasch nodded. "My pleasure, certainly. And I hope to be able to drive Georgie Boy into screaming frustration over the thought of my cunt next time."

Helen Shagton grinned. "He'll like that," she said. "Now," said Ava Frasch, "I really must away. My overnight bag is in the hall, I think?" She stood up. Helen Shagton did too, and rang a bell. George Shagton entered. Despite their lack of clothes, Ava Frasch gave Helen Shagton a very familiar cuddle. Plus a sharp slap on the bottom, too. George Shagton watched them, a very old fashioned look on his face. She winked at him.

"Are you going to go like that, Ava?" asked Helen Shagton, curiously. She nodded. "I thought I might, at that," she admitted, "after all, we were talking earlier about nude driving, and it's been a while. I've got my skirt and knicks OK in my overnight bag." She winked at Helen Shagton, and stroked her cheek. Then she turned to George Shagton, and stroked his cheek. Slowly, she moved her hand down until it was holding him under his chin.

She said to him, "think of me, bad boy...." and then kneed him smartly in the balls.

He gasped, leaned forwards, clutching at his tenderest parts, and moaned, "Yes Ma'am....I shall certainly be thinking of you."

Helen Shagton giggled. "As indeed you should do, bad boy."

Ava Frasch walked rapidly out of the house, checking quickly to see that there were no passers by who might be unnerved at a pretty Lady wandering around without skirt or knickers, and got into her car. She looked up, saw the Shagtons both waving to her, and waved back whilst she reversed the car out of the driveway. Then she was away. She looked at the car clock. Uh huh, she thought. A whole lot later than she'd originally expected, but, well, it was the holidays, after all, and she was on her own time. A pity in one respect, she thought, that the lease on her flat and shop had finished when it had, but, there again, maybe not, because it had enabled her to walk away from the shop without that liability, and since St Stricktlands was kind enough to supply free board and lodge at all times to those staff who wanted it, her living expenses were now fairly minimal. The only thing was, of course, that she couldn't screw around easily with Georgie Boy because of the distance. Then she brightened up. There were trains, after all, and the Shagtons would put her up any time she wanted, so where was the problem.

It was soon early evening, and the light was just starting to fade. She was now on the open road, well away from urban areas. A lay-by was signed up ahead. With a grin, she signalled into it, hoping that there were no HGV's4 stopped. Good, she thought, all clear. She stopped the car, and then wriggled out of her remaining clothes. Then she kicked off her heels. All of these items she placed into her overnight bag. She started off again, feeling deliciously naughty. She well understood how Helen Shagton so appreciated the delightful feeling of freedom which nude driving somehow gave.

An hour later and she was only a few miles from the school. Now the light really was starting to give out. Suddenly there were flashing lights up ahead. Hell, she thought, the fuzz. Then she remembered that she was nude. No time to dress, either. The police car flagged her down. A smartly dressed, young police constable held up his arms. She stopped, heart pounding, and wound the window down. "Good evening, Ma'am," he said, with the utmost courtesy.

"G....good evening, Officer," she replied, wondering why on earth he'd stopped her? After all, she wasn't driving erratically or anything. He flashed a torch around the car, and then held it onto her legs. Bare, of course.

The torch light strayed upwards to her equally bare tits, then onto her face. Clearly, he'd seen everything....well, everything which mattered. "I wonder if you'd just step out of the car, Miss," he said, "and stand up against the side, arms outwards?" Ava Frasch didn't believe any of this. However, she did as instructed. The policeman then proceeded to frisk her, even though she was wearing nothing at all, and ran his hands up and down her inside legs, before groping her bare bottom, Then he fondled her tits. She thought, wildly, that this simply couldn't be happening, because English policemen simply didn't treat innocent Ladies like this. However, another part of her mind knew that it was enjoying itself, and was saying, 'more, more,' to her even now. And she could feel how damp she was getting between the legs, too.

The policeman sighed, loudly. "I am afraid, Miss," he said, "that I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station." Now her heart really was in her mouth. A promising career as PT teacher flashed before her. "Park your car over there," he gestured towards another lay-by, "and lock it securely. You can bring your bag with you," he sniggered slightly, "especially if it has any of your clothes in it." Indecent exposure, perhaps, she reckoned? A month in jail? Maybe it would or it wouldn't do her reputation any good. 'Private school teacher in nude drive, scandal,' she imagined the local newspaper headlines.

She parked the car, locked it, and walked across to the police car. A passing motorist honked his horn in ribald appreciation of her state of obvious undress. The policeman held the door open for her, and she reluctantly climbed inside. They set off. It was, she knew, not that far to the county police headquarters. They'd only been driving for a couple of minutes, when she realized suddenly that they were driving in the wrong direction. She looked at the policeman. He grinned at her. "Not far, now....Ms Frasch," he said, with a wink. Sudden bells clanged within her brain. How the fuck did he know her name?

Weakly, she asked him, "I don't suppose it for a minute....but, would you by any merest shadow of a chance, be Thor Thring?"

He nodded courteously. "The very same, Miss, at your service," he replied. Her mind raced. How, how, how, she thought. Then she got it. The logic chain. Always easy when you knew it, of course. "Helen Shagton?" she asked, with heavy irony. Thor Thring looked at her delightedly. "But of course, Ms Frasch," he said, "Helen Shagton - naughty girl that she is - rang my father just after you left. She said that you were driving here, in, shall we say, in less than normal attire, gave us your car registration number, and also mentioned that you were, well, let's say, extremely interested in the idea of a session with him." She looked at him, open mouthed. Gagging for it would have been a better description. "And," he went on, "since it's school holidays right now, he's not too busy, plus, of course, well, you ARE St Stricktlands staff, and so your contract does entitle you to his facilities whenever there's a spare slot available."

She looked at him. "Accompany me to the station?" she asked, mimicking his words but adding heavy irony, "have you ANY idea how much I was panicking just then?"

He grinned. "But of course," he replied, "all part of the fun, naturally....well, for me, that is." Then he added, blandly, "Stern Hall is only a few minutes from here now."

They arrived at the railway station. A faded notice proclaimed, 'To Stern Hall,' whilst a second one stated to the world at large that, 'Trespassers will be thrashed.' Thor Thring stopped in the courtyard. "I have.....err...other duties," he said, "But I shall arrange for the repatriation of your car in due course. It will be here for you tomorrow morning, when you need it," he added.

"Thank you, Thor," she said, handing him her car keys, "not staying to set up the equipment, then?"

He frowned. "Equipment, Ms Frasch?" he asked.

She shook her head. "The equipment which does all the recordings, I mean," she said, with a guilty memory of what she'd seen earlier.

He shook his head. "All ready done, and waiting, just for the next candidate," he replied. Then he added, mildly, "I really do have other duties, since I really AM a policeman, of course." She grinned, teasingly.

"But of course, Thor," she replied. Then she fingered his handcuffs which adorned his belt, "I think you only do the job to put people into handcuffs," she said.

He winked at her. "It goes down well at parties, of course," he replied. She wondered what kind of parties he went to. S&M ones, presumably.

Thor Thring got out of the car, and walked around to the passenger side. Courteously, he opened the door, and held it for her. She got out, holding her overnight bag. Then he saluted. She had an almost overwhelming urge to take hold of his testicles, and knacker him good and hard, but felt that it wouldn't be appropriate. Then she thought, what the fuck, and did it anyway. His legs buckled, and he bent forward, as men and boys always did when they were knackered. She gave him the regulation three count of three, and then let him go. He straightened up. "Thank you, Ma'am," he said, "please feel free to repeat that manoeuvre any time you wish,"

She winked at him, and kissed his cheek. "I hope to see more of you, Thor," she said, "the summer holidays are long, you know, and I....well, I wouldn't want to be, well, lonely all that time, now would I?"

He grinned at her, "My pleasure, Ma'am," he said, "and I shall, of course, look forward to it." He patted her bare bottom. "Mustn't keep father waiting, you know," he said, "he likes all his naughty Ladies to keep time."

She looked at him. "Otherwise he's liable to beat time?" she asked.

"That is about it," he replied, "off you go, now." He walked back to the driver's side, got in, and drove away again with a cheery wave. She watched the car go. Fun, she thought, for the future. Thor Thring was a very personable young man, very fetching and sweet, and she looked forward immensely to finding out how submissive he might be underneath all that lovely dominant uniform.

Then she remembered that she was here for the specific purpose, at least according to Wodin Thring, of determining whether or not she was a slut. Well, she thought, no need to waste time on THAT question, of course. She knew perfectly well that she was a slut, always had been and always would be. But she was really, really, looking forward to a session with the Thring's Things. Some exceptionally pointed and provocative phalluses - should that, she suddenly wondered, be phalli?....which her cunt was suddenly craving, well, just the ticket to really round off a perfect day. She walked across the courtyard and saw the dark surreal surrounds of the Gothic mansion that was Stern Hall. The heavy front door creaked open when she pushed against it. She wondered whether Wodin Thring ever worried about burglars. Hardly, she thought. Any burglar would end up in a balls torture machine in minutes. She expected that the local bad lads were fully aware of this and had long since crossed Stern Hall off their, 'to do,' list.

A long corridor with blazing torches on each wall marked the way into the centre of doom where her fate lay for this evening. The passageway ended in a large chamber. She blinked in the sudden light. An elderly man with brilliant white hair stood there, smiling. "Do I have the honour of meeting Ms Ava Frasch?" he asked.

She replied, "Yes, Sir, indeed. And I, likewise, the honour of meeting the famous Professor Wodin Thring?"

He beamed and bowed. "The pleasure is mine."

She sniggered. "I very much hope that the pleasure is going to be mine. Oh, Sir," she said, "I saw Helen Shagton's....err....Interlude tape earlier today, and I want some of the same." Pause, "Well, all right, a lot of the same."

Wodin Thring smiled again. "I take it you're already a confirmed sex slut, girl?" he asked.

She grinned. "Of the first order. I need fucking by one of your lovely machines. Right now, if you please, Sir."

Wodin Thring exhaled. "What a rude little girl you must have been," he said, mildly, "still, always happy to oblige a Lady, of course." Pause. "Bondage too?" She nodded.

"Of course bondage too, Sir," she said, "today my submissive side seems to have the upper hand, if you'll forgive the oxymoron." Another bow. "Then, "Right over here, then, naughty girl," he said, pointing to what looked like, and what probably was, she thought, a sex torture table.

She lay down, spread her legs wide, gave her cunt a final rub, and offered her wrists and ankles for the restraints. Oh, she was so wet, already, down there. Wodin Thring duly obliged with heavy metal shackles. She wriggled. Then she had a sudden thought. "You WILL be recording this, won't you, Sir?" she asked. He nodded, pointing upwards to the ceiling, where the hidden cameras were obviously already rolling "Thank you, Sir," she said. She wriggled again. She was good and helpless, with her best asset ready for invasion. He wheeled a machine into position.

"Teasing first?" he asked, mildly. Ava Frasch thought about the Interlude Tape.

"Hell, yes, Sir," she said, "tease me for a whole hour before letting me cum."

Wodin Thring considered. "A whole hour?" he asked, "my, your submissive side really IS submissive, isn't it? When it kicks in, I mean?"

She nodded. "I've selected your Thing for you, then," he said, with a grin, "this one's the McFee."

She considered this. "Because it will fuck me senseless³?" she asked.

A quick nod. "Exactly," he replied, "by the way, no worries about your car. Thor and I will collect it presently for you, whilst you're, well, otherwise occupied." He smiled. "Would you be happy to stop over here tonight, Ms Frasch?" She nodded, marvelling at the incongruity of talking about such domestic trivialities whilst tied down to a torture table and about to be fucked under outrageous sexual humiliation.

"Thank you, yes, Sir," she said, "I doubt that I'll be in any condition to be going anywhere in an hour's time."

Wodin Thring bowed again. "Quite so, my dear," he said, "I'll leave you to it, then." With that, he slowly inserted the Thing inside her, and switched it on.

An eternity later, Ava Frasch was bitterly resenting herself for asking for all that teasing. She was drenched in perspiration, her heart was beating wildly, her normally melodious voice was a dry husk after a whole lot of thoroughly pointless shouting and screaming, and her cunt was driving her insane. She rather thought she understood better now just what men and boys routinely had to suffer when it came to sexual release. She sagged against the shackles. No more, she thought, no more. Flesh and blood and can only take so much. She blearily opened her eyes. A vague outlined shaped stood next to her. "Enough, girl?" he enquired, mildly.

"Enough, Sir," she said, "I can't take any more. I beg you, Sir, please let me cum." He patted her cheek, and walked across to the Thing. A simple flick of a switch would, it seemed, alter the Thing's settings, and send her from hell to heaven in seconds. Wodin Thing stood watching her. "I'll let it fuck you senseless, now," he said, "I doubt that it will take very long, you wicked girl." Ava Frasch didn't doubt it, either.