The Desk Ch. 04

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DeskTop: The Headmistress' pleasure...
2.8k words
4.71
35.1k
2

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/13/2022
Created 08/04/2005
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[Thanks to A for editing]

1]

The ironing board in the kitchen was exactly the wrong height - or the right height depending on how one looked at it. Chloe tried to ignore it, but it meant she had to stretch her arms out further to press Mrs Petrescu's clothes; a task she usually performed with relish, eager to earn her Headmistress, manager and Ma'am's approval.

Under the skirt of her dark green school uniform pinafore, though, the bulge of the harness and dildo constantly bashed against the edge of the board; enough to keep reminding her of its presence, and therefore of the reasons for its presence, but not enough to give her much in the way of pleasure - the pressure went onto her pubic bone, not further down to her clitoris or lips. Having to wear her tight gym knickers too far down so that the dildo jutted over the top wasn't very comfortable either.

After several Sundays in which both she and Angela - who today was in purdah for wanton disobedience, locked in a cupboard - had been told to wear them throughout their visits, Chloe had got more used to the weight and the tightness of the harness around her hips; but the awkwardness of having her skirt five inches further forward than it would normally be still irritated her. No wonder men had evolved not to have constant erections, she thought.

As she steamed every last crease out of one of her Ma'am's more severe black pencil skirts, she thought back to why both she and her lover [fiancee? - co-submissive?] were told to put on the dildos; Angela's purchase of one for use without Ma'am's knowledge - or permission - was regarded as a severe breach of the natural obedience the Headmistress demanded of her two "pupils".

Chloe pictured the scene again; in the punishment room, its only furniture a heavy desk, both her and Angela had been stripped bare, and ordered to stand straight up with their hands together in the air. With a stepladder - and a little rough repositioning - Mrs Petrescu had lashed their arms to a beam in the ceiling, forcing them to stand on tiptoe, a couple of feet from and facing each other.

"You want to use these pathetic imitation dicks?" taunted the Headmistress. "Then go right ahead." From a drawer in the desk she produced both Angela's harness and dildo, and another similar all-in-one strapon, the phallus catching the light in its translucent red. Turning first to Angela, she told the young teacher to step into the harness: it was roughly pulled up her legs, and the Velcro strapping tightly secured. Chloe, similarly and just as harshly, found herself sporting the dildo Angela had bought and which had aroused the Headmistress' indignation.

Mrs Petrescu positioned herself exactly between the two pupils; pulling on each of the dildos, she forced each woman to thrust her hips forward towards the other. "Good", said the Headmistress, "about two inches overlap."

Turning back to the desk and reaching underneath it, she produced a single-tail whip. Chloe watched as the Headmistress positioned herself behind Angela; then with a mighty crack, she heard it bite into Angela's skin, and saw how her lover gasped with both pain and pleasure.

Two further strokes were applied; Angela reacted to each just as strongly, her thighs rubbing against each other to try to apply some friction to her pussy between the strokes.

It was Chloe's turn next. She tensed her body, waiting for the first bite of the tail into her cheeks...

CRACK! Her hips jerked forward, the harnessed dildo she was wearing banging into Angela's.

CRACK! That one caught the inside of one of her cheeks, almost down to where she was getting very wet, very quickly...

CRACK! A high squeak escaped from Chloe's mouth. The pain, the pain, but the pressure inside, further forward. "...more, please, Ma'am...", she breathed.

All she heard was the sound of Mrs Petrescu's shoes, and the slam of the door to the punishment room. The fire in Chloe's pussy was not to be sated.

Both the women had hung there for some time before Angela whispered to her to thrust forward. She could see in the look in her lover's eyes that both were suffering the same from the denial of further punishment and any release afterwards.

As she jerked her hips forward towards Angela, at the same time as her lover, their dildos clashed. "Sword fight?" Angela breathed. With a little aiming practice, they found that pushing, battling, clashing their dildos against each other was enough to produce a little friction between their legs - only a little, but maybe if they did it enough, it would...

2]

The steam rising from the board brought Chloe back into the kitchen. She gave a small yelp as she lifted the iron from the skirt; examining it closely, she found that luckily she had done no discernible damage. She offered a small thanks to whoever was watching over her; a punishment for a serious transgression - exile from her Headmistress' presence for several weeks - was something she certainly didn't want to undergo.

Chloe, despite her initial innocence, was by now experienced enough to know the difference between "play" punishment - designed to heighten the two women's pleasure and cement their devotion to their Headmistress - and the *real* punishments of being deprived of such sweet pain, of being left alone and trapped in one's own longing.

Angela's current imprisonment would hurt her not because it was humiliating to undergo the sensory deprivation of the small cupboard under the stairs, but because - Chloe also knew this from experience - Angela would miss out on whatever depraved delights the Headmistress would choose; a special activity, which only Chloe would be involved in, which she would recount to Angela later and provoke a sting of jealousy in the other pupil.

And so it turned out when Chloe finished the ironing, and presented herself to Mrs Petrescu back in the sitting room. Giving a small curtsy, she asked what other tasks she'd be required to perform: the Headmistress ignored her and continued reading.

Time passed: Chloe stood still, head slightly bowed, hands clasped behind back, skirt bulge still sticking obscenely in front of her.

Eventually Mrs Petrescu put down her book. "You can leave the rest of the chores this afternoon, Chloe; given your, ahem, 'partner''s insubordination in the bathroom this morning, I'll add the remainder of them to her list next week. In the meantime..." Her face broke into thought for a second before she continued; "...go up to the spare bedroom. Shoes and beret off, face upwards on the bed."

"At once, Ma'am" Chloe replied, briefly curtsied, and hurried up the stairs.

The spare bedroom was very rarely used for any activity in the house; Mrs Petrescu had few overnight visitors, yet both Chloe and Angela kept it scrupulously clean. Chloe took off her beret and shook her hair back into place; then placed the beret on the bedside table. She kicked off her black kitten heels, and bent down to place them neatly under the bed.

Taking care not to crease her uniform unduly, she reached over to lie face up on the centre of the double bed, her hands crossed over on her stomach, her legs together but straight out, her head on two soft pillows. Wondering what her Headmistress had in store for her, she let her gaze fall around the room; she had of course dusted every inch of it in her time performing domestic chores, but had never seen it from this vantage point.

It was much more cosy than the stark minimalism of the punishment room; as well as the crochet-covered double bed with both head and footboard, the Victorian wardrobe, dressing table and bedside table, all bedecked with lace and doilies, there was the faint smell of roses from the previous Sunday when Angela had left a bowl of petals in the room. This, and the softness of the bed, slowly relaxed Chloe as she sunk into the mattress. Her eyes were getting heavy, too: all that washing and drying and ironing and polishing and vacuuming and dusting and...

3]

The feeling of her arm being pulled brought Chloe back to consciousness. She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but she noticed the light was fading through the net curtains. Still lying prone, she felt her right arm - then her left - being pulled upwards and to the top corners of the bed. Something was tied around each wrist, and secured with Velcro.

It was not until Mrs Petrescu moved down the bed to also strap Chloe's ankles that she properly woke up and realized what was happening. The Headmistress pulled her down the bed slightly - making her wrist straps more taut - and, with swift and firm movements, secured each ankle to a brass bar of the footboard. Chloe squirmed to test them; she had at best one inch of slack between wrist and ankle.

Turning back to pat the younger woman on the side of the face to make sure she was fully awake, Mrs Petrescu stared into Chloe's eyes. The usual steely determination bored into Chloe's pupils; and yet, behind it...

The gaze only lasted a second; and then was broken. But it was enough to send Chloe into subspace; all that existed were her feelings of devotion to her Headmistress, her wish to experience whatever pain and pleasure would be meted out to her, and... she had to admit to herself, a wry pleasure at knowing Angela was barred from this and she would have to recount every detail to her lover later on when they were back in their own bed.

Mrs Petrescu walked around to the dressing table, picked some things from a drawer without letting Chloe see, then came back to the top of the bed. "Head up and mouth open, girl." In the dying light, Chloe caught a brief glimpse of the bright red plastic ball as it was thrust between her lips and secured behind her; then she saw nothing as a soft blindfold was put over her eyes and the elastic strap pinged into position.

"Comfortable? One grunt for yes, two for no." Chloe grunted through the ballgag once: she tried to make it express both her assent and her devotion, her helplessness, her total submission. It must have sounded like a pathetic mewl, she thought.

Now she only had sound to work out what was going on. Her Headmistress' footsteps, in the sensible black shoes, she knew well. A zip going down; the shuffling of clothes; something being taken out and put on the dressing table. The thought of Mrs Petrescu, always very careful about exposing herself in front of either Chloe or Angela, being naked in the same room as her sent an electric charge down her front, through her stomach, and down between her legs. What had she got planned?

She felt the Headmistress put a leg on the bed right next to her head; instinctively she turned her face towards it. Although the gag prevented her from using her mouth or tongue, she lovingly brushed her left cheek against the leather of Mrs Petrescu's shoe; if she could have purred like a cat, she would have.

Now as well as sound, there was smell: the polish, leather and sweet foot odour, plus - what was that in the distance? - yes, unmistakably, the Headmistress' own aroma, and the shortening of breath. She could also hear, very faintly, skin rubbing against skin; not her own, so... the Headmistress? Fiddling with herself? Over her? She pressed her face more firmly, stroking more quickly against the shoe. She could feel her pussy warming up, moistening up, underneath the harness.

Suddenly the leg was pulled off the bed: Chloe shook her head in a moment of displeasure, then lay back still, wishing she could at least see the Headmistress, even if she couldn't taste her.

She heard two shoes being dropped on the floor, then felt Mrs Petrescu climb onto the bed, and inbetween Chloe's legs. She felt her pinafore being pulled up to her waist; her knickers being pulled down as far as they would go: she sensed the Headmistress move forward, part her legs, and then, slowly...

"Oh my God!" she tried to exclaim through the gag. Slowly, inch by inch, Mrs Petrescu took Chloe's dildo into her pussy, until she was sitting, legs astride, on the younger woman's abdomen, feet against Chloe's thighs, hands on Chloe's waist. Chloe could feel her muscles contract and retract around the dildo, sending the pressure down to Chloe's pubic mound; now, much more strongly, the aroma of the Headmistress' juices filled Chloe's nostrils.

The Headmistress started to bob up and down on her; instinctively she tried to raise her hips up in a fucking motion, but was too constrained to have much effect. She felt Mrs Petrescu lean further forward, legs gripping Chloe's waist, as the pace quickened. She heard low moans escape the Headmistress' lips, and the odd low grunt, and she wondered how much Angela, in the downstairs cupboard, would be hearing of this.

The fire in Chloe's own pussy was building, building; but she knew that just the pressure from the harness alone wouldn't be able to take her over the edge, however hard the Headmistress was now bouncing up and down on top of her hips.

And then, hearing a low grunt of "fuck me, bitch!", she felt Mrs Petrescu cum on top of her; she felt the Headmistress' muscles contract all around her dildo, she felt the wetness drip through the harness, she felt the feet kick into her thighs. She felt her Ma'am fall on top of her, panting heavily, still impaled on her dildo, arms now entwining around Chloe as her breathing subsided.

Chloe didn't know how long they lay there like that: there was no time, only the heat of her Ma'am's body on top of her, the feeling of satisfaction that she had given pleasure to her Headmistress, and the itch, itch, itch that she herself badly needed to cum.

Eventually she felt Mrs Petrescu lift herself off: the dildo plopped out. She heard the Headmistress leave the bed, and fumble about to dress; she again heard the clack of the heels around the room. She tried to express herself through the gag, tried to instil her grunt with an air of pleading, of not being left alone.

She heard a rip of Velcro, and felt her ankles being undone: with swift movements, her harness was taken off, and her pussy exposed to the air. Before Chloe could enjoy this sensation, her ankles were secured again to the footboard. Then, walking up to the head of the bed, Mrs Petrescu removed Chloe's blindfold.

It was almost dark; even at a close distance, it was difficult to make out the Headmistress bending over her. "Poor bitch." Mrs Petrescu brought the dildo and harness into Chloe's vision, and tapped the tip against the rubber ball gag twice. It still smelled strongly of the Headmistress' cum.

Then Chloe could just make out her Ma'am bending further down; she spread Chloe's thighs, and roughly jammed the dildo straight into the hole, causing Chloe to jolt with both pain and excitement. It was still very warm, and must have still been very wet from...

Heels clicked on the floor. A door opened and closed, and a key was turned, as Chloe wriggled and built herself up towards...

4]

It was Angela who came to release her, after Chloe had made herself cum twice. Angela switched on the light, causing Chloe to screw her eyes up as she adjusted to the bright light, as Angela slowly pulled the dildo from Chloe's hole, stopping for a moment to feel the damp patch underneath on the blanket.

Chloe opened her eyes. Angela - still in her gym uniform, but also with an obscene bulge underneath her pleated skirt - bent down to undo the straps holding Chloe's limbs to the bed, and hauled her to an upright seated position. Chloe smoothed her pinafore down and started rubbing some life back into her arms and legs, before embracing Angela: the two women hugged, and shared a brief kiss.

"Madam has gone out for the evening", Angela explained. "She told me to fetch you and lock up behind her. ...What happened up here? I heard some banging about, but..."

Chloe smiled, and kissed Angela on the forehead. "I'll tell you when we get home."

"Will you show me when we get home?"

Chloe reached down to the bulge under Angela's skirt, and gave it a quick jerking motion. "I think Ma'am wouldn't like that: I think we have to reserve it as her privilege." She pulled her hand away, and took Angela's in hers.

The two women looked deep into each others' eyes, and found the same thing; devotion to each other, and to their Headmistress.

"I think", Chloe said formulating her thoughts, "I'll keep quiet about it: next week I may get myself locked away so you can enjoy it..."

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 year ago

Wonderful story. The pacing, the details; and I never expected to see Biggleswade name checked here!

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READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

The Desk Ch. 03 Previous Part
The Desk Series Info

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