The Disciplinarian Ch. 05

Please read the earlier chapters before you read this one. Otherwise, it won't make much sense. Also you'll find it a lot more erotic if you first understand who these characters are and where they are, physically and emotionally.

Instructions and Inspections

The next day, Jennie and I rode in her car to Angie's. We arrived just as her husband was pulling away. Once we were all inside and had each had a half a glass of wine, we did a quick inventory. I had brought Mickey's satchel with the switch in it and Jennie had the sheet of sandpaper.

"Well," said Angie, "I guess we should take a look at the individual instructions that Mr. Daniels sent to us. Who wants to go first?"

We looked at each other and finally Jennie said, "Ok. I'll go first."

She then took a piece of paper from her handbag, apparently Mr. Daniels' instructions, and read it over silently to herself.

"Alright, Angie," Jennie said, "you don't have to take any clothes off to begin with, but whenever a character in a story that Soo May is reading is being spanked or paddled or something, you have to get undressed to the same degree as the person in the story. You also have to take the exact same position as the person in the story, bent over a chair or lying over a lap or whatever. I then give you a swat with the same kind of instrument that is used in the story."

"Is that all?" Angie asked.

"No, of course not." Jennie said, "Do really think Mr. Daniels would leave it at that? When I give you the swat, Soo May is to take a picture of the scene. You have to look at the camera and smile for the picture."

"Ok," she said, looking worried. The thought of getting her picture taken while getting a swat, possibly undressed, had clearly unnerved her. Even from long distance, Mickey knew how to press her buttons.

Nevertheless, she continued the conversation, "So, how are you two supposed to be dressed? Soo May, what are his instructions for Jennie?"

"Well, Jennie is to be fully dressed ... ," I said, and Jennie looked relieved while Angie seemed to grimace in resentment.

"... to start with. However, Jennie, you have to put that sandpaper into your undies with the rough side against your ass right now. It has to stay there except when you are being spanked or punished."

"Damn!" Jennie muttered, as she began to undo the snap of her jeans. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Angie smiling at this development.

Jennie dropped the jeans to her thighs and then pulled her panties out in back to insert the sandpaper as instructed. When it was in place, she pulled her jeans back up and closed them. I noticed that she was wearing plain white cotton undies. Humph, I thought cynically, when Mickey's not here, she wears plain panties! She paused for a moment to see how sandpaper pressed against bare skin felt.

"That actually doesn't feel too bad," she declared with a surprised smile. I wondered if Mickey's instincts for punishment and humiliation had failed him in this case.

"Also," I continued, "whenever Angie is reading a story that involves an instrument, like a paddle or switch, you have to undress to the same degree as the person in the story and I give you swats with the exact same instrument, but no more than three swats."

"What if there's only hand spanking in the story?" She asked.

"Nothing. You don't get punished in that case. When the story is over, we rotate and go on to the next story."

"Soo May," Angie called suddenly, "my turn to give you your instructions."

We looked over to see that she was reading Mickey's email on her laptop screen.

"To start with," she said, "get those short-shorts off. That's what Mr. Daniels instructed me for you. And they stay off all evening."

I took them off, dropped them on the seat of an easy chair, and stood there in red tights and a white baby-T that did not reach more than a couple of inches below my waist. As Jennie had instructed, I had no underwear on.

"OK," I said, "so who reads the first story? Should we draw straws?"

"Not so fast," said Angie. "There was more in Mr. Daniels' instructions for you, Soo May."

"What else?" I asked nervously.

"You are to have a cucumber inserted in your love tunnel this whole evening," she said with a wicked smile, "The tights will hold it in."

Jennie giggled at this news while I turned pink.

"I'll get one from the fridge," Angie volunteered all too enthusiastically.

She went to the kitchen and we heard the refrigerator door open. A few seconds later, Angie was back with a green gourd in her hand.

"I don't have any cucumbers, so you'll have to use this zucchini," she said and then added with a grin, "Hope you like Italian men."

This sent Jennie and Angie both into paroxysms of laughter.

"Ha, ha," I said sarcastically, grabbing the zucchini from Angie, "you should be a comedian."

I was about to pull down my tights and insert the gourd when I realized there was a slight logistical problem: I needed to be wet first. Angie's next words revealed that Mickey, as usual, had thought of that.

"Oh, by the way," said Angie, who was looking at the computer screen again, "Mr. Daniels, says that you can't use any KY jelly or other lubricants."

"So, she'll have to get wet some other way!" Jennie exclaimed, clearly enjoying the situation, "and we know just how to do that don't we?"

"Yes, indeed!" Angie declared. Then, looking at me, she snapped her fingers and pointed at the couch. "Bend over the back of the couch, Soo May, right now!"

"Wait," I stalled, "that's not necessary."

"What's the alternative, Soo May?" Jennie asked. "Are you going to pull your tights down and play with yourself in front of us?"

She had a point there. The least embarrassing way for me to get wet would be to submit to a spanking.

"Hey, I'm your master," Angie's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Now get over the back of that couch. I want your little boy butt pointing to the ceiling in 10 seconds!"

With a groan, I walked around to the back of the couch and bent over the back of it, dropping the zucchini onto a cushion and putting my hands on the seat. Jennie and Angie, giggling, came around it too and stood behind me.

The red, form-fitting tights stretched over my butt. Since my hips were higher than my shoulders, the hem of my T slid down a bit, exposing my belly and lower back.

"Alright," said Jennie, tittering, "let's get this lube job going."

A second later Jennie's hand smacked my right bun and Angie's smacked my left almost simultaneously. Angie's swat made a different sound. I think she might have been cupping her hand.

Smack! ... Papt!

"Ow," I exclaimed, and I jerked forward a bit. The red tights hid my skin from view but they were so thin, the spanks felt almost like they were on my bare bottom.

After a pause to giggle to each other about what they were doing, they resumed. Jennie concentrated on my right bun while Angie targeted my left.

Smack! ... Papt! ... Smack! ... Papt! ... Smack! ... Papt!

Although my privates were hidden, I still blushed in shame at what I was doing ... and especially at why I was doing it: bending over so that my two best friends could spank me into arousal.

Smack! ... Papt! ... Smack! ... Papt! ... Smack! ... Papt!

After about a minute, Angie had a question.

"Are you wet enough, Soo May?"

If it had been Mickey spanking me, I'm sure I would have been, but this was just not the same. As much as I would have liked for the spanking to be over, I had to admit that I was not.

"Um, no," I said. "It's ... uh ... going to take ... uh ... some more."

"Alright," Angie said, "come on let's pour it on."

"Wait," Jennie said, "I have an idea." Then directing her words to me, she added, "Soo May, do a split on the top of the couch."

"What?" Angie asked.

"You know, a split," Jennie explained, "like they do in ballet, or in gymnastics, or for warm ups in dance practice; where you spread your legs as wide as they'll go. I know Soo May can do splits. I've seen her do it."

"Oh, right," Angie said, "I know what you mean. Ok, Soo May, you heard her, do a split on the top of the couch."

I stood up straight and then slowly I lifted my right leg up and laid it along the length of the top of the couch. Then I did the same with my left leg. Next, I bent forward again to rest my forearms and elbows on the seat of the sofa. This made my back concave so that my butt arched up. My T had slipped all the way to my armpits exposing my boobless chest. Now, my body made a kind of T-shape and the muscles of my legs and ass were stretched taught and hard, perfectly defined by the stretchy tights.

I heard Angie make a snort of laughter and the two of them giggled for a few seconds at my obscene position. At last Jennie spoke, "OK, now let's pour it on."

They proceeded to rain spanks down on me rapid fire.

Papt! Smack! Papt! Smack! Papt! Smack! Papt! Smack! Papt! Smack!

Papt! Papt! Smack! Smack! Papt! Smack! Smack! Smack! Papt! Papt!

Within seconds I was making impulsive expressions of pain, and my hips began to twist a bit.

"Oh ... uh ... errg ... ow ... nnhuh ..."

After another minute of fast and frenzied spanking, Angie and Jennie stopped and I could hear them breathing hard.

"Are you ready, yet, Soo May?" Jennie gasped.

I was feeling a little moisture in my tunnel, but not a lot.

With a sigh, I answered, "No, not yet."

Angie seemed to realize what I needed before Jennie or I did.

"Soo May," she said, "tell us why you are in this ridiculous position, spread eagled and holding your bottom up to us"

"You know why!" I exclaimed in irritation.

"Yes," she explained, "but I want you to tell us."

"So you can ... spank muh— me," my voice started out strong but began to break in embarrassment at the end.

"That's right, now tell us why you want us to spank you," she went on.

"Sheesh!" I said, hoping vainly that a little bravado would cover my humiliation, "... so that I'll get wet."

"So spankings get you all fizzy, do they?"

"Damn it, Angie," I began to sniffle, "you know they [choke] do."

"What kind of spanking gets you fizzy? Soft, quick ones?"

"No ... [gasp] ... damn it, you know ... long hard ones."

"But spankings don't get you as hot as playing with yourself does," she continued. "Isn't that right?

"huh ... God ...," I groaned, "Ok, yeah, ... [gasp] ... not as much as playing with myself."

"So, how wet do you want to be?" she asked next, not giving me any quarter.

"Enough to [sniffle] put the zucchini in," I whimpered softly.

"Fine," she responded and for a moment I thought my humiliating interrogation was over, but what Angie said next killed those hopes.

"So, Soo May, put all that together and ask us what you want us to do for you. Do it just like Mr. Daniels makes us; use complete sentences and be polite and all that."

It took me a few seconds to work up the nerve, but finally I spoke.

"Angie and Jennie, ... uh ... except for masturbation, nothing turns me on like— oh, God— uh ... a long hard spanking; so would you please spank me until I'm wet enough to put a zucchini in my ... uh ... thing?"

"I think we can help you out, there, Soo May," Jennie giggled.

With that they resumed.

Papt! Papt! Smack! Smack! Papt! Smack! Smack! Smack! Papt! Papt!

"Awh ... ouch ... umh ... oh ... ow ..."

Within seconds, I realized that Angie's interrogation had produced a flood in my cunny.

"Stop! Stop!" I practically shouted, "I'm ready. I'm ready."

"Thank God," Jennie said, "my arm is hurting."

"Wait," said Angie, "as her master I think we should give her an inspection to verify that she's ready."

"Inspection?" Jennie asked.

"Yes," said Angie. "Soo May, get down off the couch and bend over."

I did as instructed, putting my hands on my knees. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, that Jennie was pulling at the seat of her jeans as if trying to pull them away from her. I guessed that the sand paper had rubbed against her ass as she was spanking me.

"Now, pull down the leggings," Jennie commanded, "and spread your legs!"

With a sigh, I reached back to the waistband of the tights and pulled them down to my knees. Then I spread my legs as much as the fabric stretched between them would allow. My face flushed red again.

"Wait a minute," Angie said, "I don't think we should have to bend down to inspect her."

"Good," Jennie replied, "I don't want to bend over and put my face by her pubes."

"Me neither," Angie agreed. "We should position her so that we don't have to."

She looked around the room for a second and then said, "Come on, Soo May, get those tights off and come into the kitchen."

I straightened up, pushed down the tights, and stepped of them. Then, bare-assed, I followed Angie into the kitchen. Jennie brought up the rear.

"Stand up on this," Angie said, pulling a chair about a foot back from the kitchen table.

Warily, I stepped up onto the chair.

"Now, bend all the way over and put your hands on the table."

Obediently, I leaned forward and rested my hands on the table. My naked butt and privates were almost exactly at eye level for Jennie and Angie and the overhead kitchen light illuminated them perfectly. They could "inspect" me without having to bend over or get close.

"What do you think?" Angie asked Jennie, "Is Boy Butt wet enough or does she need more lickings?"

"With her legs together I can't really tell," Jennie replied with a giggle.

"Good point," said Angie, "but that's easily fixed."

With that Angie pulled out the chair next to the one I was standing on and slid it about three feet farther to the side.

"Stay bent over, but put one foot on this chair and keep the other on that chair," she instructed.

I did so and the effect was to spread my legs wide.

It's funny how the tiny details can make such a powerful difference in the emotional effect of a situation. I'd had some pretty humiliating moments in our sessions with Mickey, but this moment ranked near the top of the humiliation scale.

That I was bottomless was, of course, embarrassing.

That my legs were spread wide easily doubled the humiliation level.

That I was bent over tripled it.

That I was wet with arousal tripled it again.

That my arousal was born of something kinky, instead of conventional sex, quadrupled it.

But what really pushed my mortification into the stratosphere was the fact that I had stepped up onto the chairs to bring my privates up to eye level. I was not just debasing myself; I was doing so in a way that suited the convenience of my two smirking inspectors, so that they wouldn't have to go to the effort of bending over to see whether I was ready for the next phase of my humiliation. It was as if my saving a little face could not possibly be more important than the convenience of my tormentors. Once, again, even in my sniffling humiliation, I thought of what an artist Mickey was; a Rembrandt of erotic humiliation, who with a single brush stroke can turn a merely great work of art into a magnificent one.

"Ah, that's better," Angie was saying, pulling me out of my reverie. "She is pretty wet."

"Boy, I'll say!" Jennie agreed with unnecessary exaggeration. "She's soaking!"

"Alright, Boy Butt," Angie commanded, "get back to the living room and put that Italian in. Then put on the tights to hold him in."

I stepped down from the chairs and scampered into the living room where I did as instructed. The six-inch zucchini went in about three inches. When I'd pulled up the tights, the form-fitting fabric clung to the outer three inches just as it clung to my body. It looked for all the world like an erect penis.

Another of Mickey Rembrandt's fiendish brush strokes, I thought, as Jennie and Angie both chortled at the sight.

Stories and Stings

"Alright, then," I said, trying to distract attention from my new appendage, "can we start the stories?"

We drew straws to see who read the first story and I got the short one, so I sat down at the computer and navigated to Literotica. In another half-a-minute, I'd chosen one of the newly posted stories that had "punishment" in the title.

I started reading aloud and a few paragraphs into the story, an arrogant college student was lying over the lap of her professor with her skirt up and her panties down. The professor was whacking her with a ruler.

"Ok, Angie," said Jennie, "it's picture time. Get me a ruler while I get my phone camera from my bag."

Jennie showed me how to take a picture with her phone while Angie, moving slowly, went to her husband's study and came back with an old wooden ruler in her hand, looking a bit scared. Smiling broadly, Jennie took the ruler and sat down on the couch.

"Alright, Angie," she said, with an enthusiasm that surprised me, "lift up that skirt to your waist and get over my lap!" Being a master had clearly gone to her head.

Angie gritted her teeth and I could see she was about to complain about Jennie's unseemly eagerness; but she resisted the impulse, wisely I thought. Instead, she grabbed the hem of her skirt on both sides and pulled it up to her ribs. Then she kneeled on the couch beside Jennie and laid herself over Jennie's lap. She, too, was wearing plain full size undies. Just like Jennie's except that Angie's were pink. What is this? I thought jealously, these two both wear flimsy, sexy panties when Mickey's here, but when he's not, they wear granny underwear!

"All right, Angie," Jennie said, "the girl in the story has her panties down, so you have to have yours down too."

With a groan, Angie complied. She lifted her hips from Jennie's lap and dragged her own undies down to her mid thighs.

"Ready, Soo May?" Jennie asked as she held the ruler up in the air.

I stood in front of the two of them and aimed the camera at the kinky tableau.

"Ready!" I called.

WHAP!

Jennie brought the ruler down full across both Angie's lovely model buttocks.

"Arghh!" Angie called out as her head snapped up.

I snapped the picture.

"Ok," said Angie, with just a hint of a cry in her voice, "let me up."

"Just a second," Jennie replied and held her hand on Angie's back, "let me see that picture."

I took the mobile over to where Jennie could see it. At the moment I'd snapped the photo, Angie had been clenching her butt in pain. Her head was up, her eyes were closed, and her lips were pressed tight in pain. She appeared to be a beautiful but errant housewife being spanked over her husband's lap for overdrawing the checking account again; except that it must have been one of those jurisdictions where same-sex marriage is allowed, because the angry husband was a woman.

"Doesn't count!" Jennie exclaimed. "You forgot to smile and you forgot to look at the camera. We'll have to do it again."

"Oh, &%$#@!" Angie nearly shouted as I resumed my cameraman's position. I couldn't help but laugh because she very rarely swore.

Once again I held the camera up. This time, Angie looked at the camera and put on her best toothy model's smile.

WHAP! The ruler struck home again.

"Unnnhhh!" Angie moaned through gritted teeth.

I snapped the picture immediately and then took it to Jennie for approval. Despite her pain, Angie had managed to keep facing the camera and holding her mouth in what was more or less a smile. Her bum in the picture was crisscrossed with two long thin red rectangles. In this picture she looked less like an errant housewife than like a closeted lesbian housewife enjoying her favorite kink with her secret lover while her husband is out of the house.

Jennie agreed that if fit the bill, so she let Angie up. As Jennie herself stood up, I noticed her wince and involuntarily put her hand on the seat of her pants.