The Disciplinarian Ch. 05

The two of them flipped a coin to see who would read the next story and Angie won. That would mean that I was to be Jennie's master.

Angie took quite a while finding a story she wanted to read. I realized that she was deliberately looking for one that involved more than hand spanking because she didn't want Jennie to get off scot free. Finally, she found one and began to read it. For some reason, Jennie remained standing.

It starred a lazy young man who was expelled from college. His wealthy, exasperated parents packed him off to a summer of hard labor on his strict Aunt and Uncle's ranch where he was to learn self-discipline. In keeping with the finest traditions of strict Aunts in Literotica stories, she soon had the poor boy bent over in her kitchen with his jeans and boxers at his ankles while she walloped his backside with a hairbrush.

"Ok," said Angie, interrupting her own reading. "Get those jeans and panties down Jennie while I go get Soo May a hairbrush." There was an unmistakable smile of anticipated revenge on her face."

Jennie almost eagerly pulled down her skintight jeans and then her undies and I soon saw why. The skin of her bottom was bright pink where the sandpaper contacted it. She reached back and slowly rubbed it with both hands, sighing with relief.

"Here ya go, Soo May," said Angie when she returned from the bedroom and handed me a flat-backed hairbrush. Then, turning to Jennie, she added, "Bend over and grasp your ankles just like the guy in the story."

Jennie did so and I stepped over beside her with the hairbrush.

"The guy in the story gets 20 spanks," I explained, "but I'm allowed to give you no more than three."

"And remember, Soo May," Angie reminded me, "I have to report you to Mr. Daniels if you spank too softly."

"I remember," I promised, and I meant it. I wasn't about to risk Mickey's disapproval.

I raised the hairbrush and brought it down moderately hard on the already pink part of Jennie's butt.

Splat!

"Owww!" Jennie shouted, and she involuntarily straightened up and began rubbing her bum.

"Doesn't count!" Angie called out, repeating exactly the phrase Jennie had used earlier. "The guy in the story is not allowed to rub, so you aren't either, and he had to stay in position. Start over."

Jennie obeyed and gingerly got back into position.

Splat! Her buns weren't nearly as tight as Angie's were, so they flattened quite a bit more when the brush made contact and then they bounced back again.

"Errrr, Ooooo," Jennie moaned with gritted teeth. Her naked butt clenched, but she kept position.

Splat! Again, her butt shimmied.

"Oww, Oh, Oh," Jennie gasped, but kept position.

"Ha!" Angie exclaimed, "Look how her butt jiggles. That's a hoot!"

Jennie's face turned crimson and I felt a new flood in my loins at the thought of being in her position, my bottom bouncing and shaking to the amusement of onlookers as I'm thoroughly punished with a hairbrush.

"Last one," I said, and then gave her a final whack.

Splat! Her butt reverberated in response.

"Owwiee, [gasp] Eunnh!" Jennie groaned and she twisted.

Sniffling, she lowly she straightened up, and I told her she could rub her bottom if she wanted to. She most definitely wanted to and she did for more than a minute.

"Alright, Jennie," I said, "time to get your undies and pants back on and don't forget the sandpaper"

"Uh, Soo May," Jennie said hesitantly, "Can I just volunteer to be bottomless for the rest of the evening?"

"Nope," sorry I said, with genuine sympathy, "but I'm not going to go against his instructions."

With a small sob, Jennie reached down to pull up her panties. Then she picked up the sandpaper and put it back in place. Finally, she pulled up the tight jeans. She winced audibly when she zipped up the fly and snapped them shut.

"Ok, Jennie," Angie said, "your turn to read a story while I am Soo May's master. But we got so involved in getting her wet, I never did tell you Mr. Daniels instructions about what she is to do when you are reading a story."

She switched to her email for a few moments and then switched back to the Literotica window and got up from the computer. Jennie took her place but kneeled on the chair instead of sitting on it.

One Hump or Two?

"Ok, Soo May," Angie took command. "When it's Jennie's turn to read a story, you are to bend over the back of the couch and start humping it."

"Humping it?!?" I asked.

"Yes. That's what he wants," she replied, folding her arms as if daring me to protest. "Also, if there's any hand spanking in the story, then I give you the same number of spanks while you continue humping. However, you can keep your tights on no matter how the person in the story is dressed. If there's paddling or switching or any other kind of spanking tool, we just ignore that."

Turning red faced again, I walked to the back of the couch and bent over it once again. I glanced over at Angie and she simply folded her arms impatiently and raised one eyebrow as if to say "What are you waiting for? Get on with it!"

I felt my eyes water in shame, but I slowly pulled my hips back and up a few inches and brought them down and forward again. Then I did it again, and then a third time, increasing my speed each time. In a few more seconds I was humping the back of the couch in a regular rhythm.

I couldn't help glancing at Jennie and Angie. They were each pressing their top and bottom lips together tightly to suppress laughing. Humiliated, I looked away.

The humping caused my organic prick to bump against the back of the couch. Each time I bucked forward, the zucchini would hit the couch and pivot a little toward the floor. This had the effect to causing the part inside me to press into my G-spot. On the reverse stroke, the veggie would pivot back the other way. As a result, I was rhythmically pushing my G-spot as I humped.

Jennie spent a couple of minutes finding a story to read. No doubt she wanted to be sure she got one that including a hand spanking, since instrument spankings would not apply to me. Finally, she found one and began to read.

The star was a naïve but intrepid female reporter. By the end of the second paragraph she had crossed into the sinister and mysterious dictatorship of Slobovia. By the end of the third she was snooping around Slobovia's secret nuclear facility taking pictures. By the end of the fifth she had been apprehended, and by the end of the sixth she was in Slobovia's notorious castle prison. Halfway through the seventh, she was lying naked over the lap of the evil warden as he spanked her to teach her "how we do things around here."

"Alright, Jennie," Angie said, "Let's count the spanks, because Soo May gets the same number."

As Jennie read the spanking aloud, Angie counted the spanks under her breadth, "That's one ... three more ... two more, that's six so far ... seven ... eight, nine, and ten, ..."

As I stood there bent over the couch, humping it, I began to pray that the evil warden would finish, but the idiot reporter kept resisting and insulting him, which only provoked him to lengthen the spanking. Finally, she called him a pig and, furious, he reached for a switch. Thank God, I thought, the hand spanking is over.

"Thirty-six!" Angie announced the total with undisguised glee. Then she positioned herself beside me and began to spank, after reminding me to keep humping. She used the same, cupped hand style she had used to spank me earlier and it made the same slightly muffled sound against my tightly encased butt.

Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt!

She alternated from one globe to other, keeping up a steady rhythm.

Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt!

They'd spanked me before, but not at the same time that I was humping like this, and the sight of it kept Angie and Jennie chuckling continuously through the whole spanking.

Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt!

When one of her spanks coincided with a down stroke of my couch-pumping, it drove my hips harder into the back of the couch and my G-stop was pushed even harder by the zucchini.

Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt!

Before long I could no longer suppress my spontaneous expressions of pain.

"Owh ... unhuh ... omh ... uh ... arwh ..."

I was already pretty aroused from my first spanking, the three stories, and several minutes of humping. Now Angie's spanking was pushing me further down that road. Each spank sent a wave of pain radiating from my butt and each hump sent a wave of pleasure radiating back. My eyelids grew heavy and I started making sounds of pleasure along with the pain.

Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt! ... Papt!

"Ow ... mmm ... arg ... uhuhh ... [gasp] ... ouch ..."

I wasn't aware of it at first, but the speed of my humping had been gradually increasing.

"I don't believe it!" I heard Jennie exclaim, "she's doing it again!"

"She's insatiable," Angie agreed with a chortle and she increased the speed of her spanks.

Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt!

"MMMMMM ... Errgh! ... OHHHH ... [gasp] ... ouch ... Yes ..."

The waves of pleasure and pain merged into an indescribable radiation of pleasure-pain that took control of my body from me.

Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt! Papt!

"NNNNNNN ... oooohhhh ... Yes ... [gasp] ... more ..."

Suddenly, I stopped humping and jammed my hips against the top edge of the couch. The inner end of the zucchini pushed hard and insistently against my G-spot. My upper body straightened up. My face turned up, eyes closed, mouth open. My hands moved from the seat of the couch to the back which I gripped on either side of me. My hips began to slide rapidly from side to side against the back of the couch which caused the zucchini to pivot from side to side rubbing the G-spot.

"MMMMmmmmm ... yesss ... ohhh ... NNNNuuuhhhh ..."

Somewhere I could hear Angie and Jennie laughing as if they were a long way away, their voices echoing down a miles long corridor. But I didn't care. I was on the edge of the volcano. In another second I would tumble over into its wonderful molten core.

"NNNuuummmmmmm ... uunnngggaaahhh ..."

In the distance I heard the echo of a door opening, and a man was calling out. He was calling "Angie."

Then a woman was calling "Soo May, Soo May," and I felt my hips being pulled away from the couch.

Nooo, I thought, noooo, don't want to stop. I resisted the pulling and tried to get my crotch back against the couch, back to the volcano.

"Soo May!"

I opened my eyes to see what force was trying to deprive me of my volcano bath of ecstasy. It was Jennie.

"Soo May," she said in a panic, "Angie's husband is home!"

Premature Husband

I was instantly back in reality. My heart started pounding in panic, and like the proverbial condemned man, my mind was perfectly focused on the essential goal: get my short-shorts back on.

Angie was dashing for the hallway intent on stalling her husband. She called a stage whisper back over her shoulder to Jennie, "Get that stuff off the computer screen!"

Jennie ran to the laptop as I ran around the couch and headed for the easy chair where I'd dropped the shorts.

They weren't there!

I looked around frantically on all the chairs and the couch seat. Not on any of them. I dropped to my knees and peered under the chair where I laid the shorts. Nada.

Angie and Roger's voices were growing louder as they came slowly down the hallway.

"No," he was saying, "I told you this morning that there's no poker game this week, we were just going to watch the basketball game on TV. But it was a blow out, so I decided to come home after the third quarter."

"Soo May! Soo May!" Jennie was hissing at me from the chair in front of the computer, which she had simply turned off.

When I looked at her, she started signaling me with an odd gesture. She had cupped her right hand and was patting her crotch with it. I didn't know what she meant. Then she began pointing at my crotch with her left hand while she continued the cupped hand gesture with the other. I looked down at my crotch.

The zucchini!

Roger would be stepping into the living room in seconds, I couldn't find my shorts, and there was not enough time for me to reach into my tights and take it out before he got there.

"In! In! Further in!" Jennie hissed.

Suddenly I understood her gesture.

I cupped my hand on the end of the veggie and pushed hard. If I hadn't been so aroused moments earlier I don't think it would have gone, but I was able to get nearly the whole six inches into me. For a person my size that's pretty big. A tiny bit still protruded, but I clamped my legs together and that hid it.

At that moment Roger entered the room with Angie beside him. They saw Jennie first. Angie immediately looked at the computer screen and I could see her shoulders sag in relief that it was dark.

Roger said hello to Jennie and then turned to me.

"Hi, there— uh ... uh ... Soo May, ... um ... how are you?" his eyes grew wide and he stared at my lower half, form-fitted in red tights.

I could see Angie gulp silently, but she didn't seem surprised to find that I didn't have my shorts on. After a second, she even seemed to smile a bit at my discomfort.

My face was burning, and I was tempted to cover my crotch with my hands, but that would have given away that something fishy was going on, and the tights were not see-through, so I had to just brazen it out.

"I'm fine, Roger," I replied with a smile, my hands at my sides.

"Um ...," he continued to be puzzled, "why are you only wearing—"

"It's a fashion," Angie interrupted him. "Really, Roger, you are so out of it. Women have been wearing tights as pants for months!"

"They have?"

"Oh, honestly, Roger," she said with exaggerated impatience, "you've got to be more observant." Then, looking at me, she added, "But I don't think it works on you, Soo May, let's see it with the short-shorts layered on top again."

With that she gently steered Roger to the kitchen. When his back was turned she pointed at the chair where I'd dropped my shorts and mouthed something silently. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but Jennie seemed to understand. She walked over to the chair and lifted the cushion. Sure enough my shorts were hidden under it. I quickly put them on while Roger was in the kitchen and then I ran to the bathroom and took the zucchini out. Holding it behind my back, I dropped it into the kitchen wastebasket when Roger wasn't looking.

Caught in the Act

We chatted around the kitchen table and sipped wine. I didn't say much because I was trying to figure out how my shorts could have gotten under the cushion. After about a half an hour, Jennie and I made our excuses and stood up. Angie walked us to Jennie's car.

When we got there, she said "There was one more special instruction for you, Soo May, from Mr. Daniels, wasn't there Jennie?"

"Huh?" Jennie seemed surprised at first, but then quickly recovered and smiled. "Oh, right, you told me about that on the phone; the special instruction."

"What special instruction?" I asked.

"You are not allowed to play with yourself until he gets back," Angie said.

"Unless you have permission from one of us," Jennie added with an evil grin. If you do, we get to punish you as we see fit."

"He— he said that?" I stammered in surprise. "Well," I added, trying to recover some dignity, "he needn't have, because I had no intention of ... I mean I wouldn't ... Oh, never mind."

"Right, whatever you say, Soo May," Angie smiled, then waving goodbye walked back to the house.

As soon as she was inside, Jennie handed me the keys and said "You drive."

When I got in the driver side, I saw that she had gotten in on the passenger side, but she was not sitting on the seat, but kneeling on it. As soon as we were out of sight of Angie's house, she undid her pants and violently yanked them and her panties down to her knees.

"Jennie, what the hell?" I asked, but then I saw what the "hell" was: she pulled the sandpaper out of her panties and threw it on the floor, and then she began to rub her bright pink ass and continued to do so all the way home.

I, on the other hand, spent the drive mulling Mickey's "special instruction." Did he really think I was so sex-crazed that I couldn't control myself for a couple weeks without the threat of being punished by my friends?

Since our Wine and Fantasy had been interrupted so quickly, it was still early and Jennie changed and went right out again, with her gym bag over her shoulder, saying that she was going to her athletic club and get in a game of handball.

I tried to watch some TV, but I couldn't concentrate. Everything I saw seemed to remind me of the night's events. There was a ballet dancer in tights on one channel, on another there was a fashion photographer; a third featured a sidewalk vegetable stand with zucchinis in the background. Slowly, that old familiar feeling began to grow in my private cave. I suddenly became aware that my hand was slowly stroking my crotch.

No! No! I thought, Mustn't do this! Mickey wants me to wait ... or get permission. I turned the channel again to a home improvement show, but then the host began sandpapering the old finish off a bannister. Damn! I thought and I snapped off the set.

I turned out the living room lights and went to my bedroom to read. The heroine in my romance novel was a headstrong, rebellious, lass (aren't they all?) who hated the handsome but arrogant son of the local lord. As I resumed reading from where I'd left off, she was caught on the moors in a wind and rain storm. The hated son came along on horseback and offered a ride to shelter. She refused, but he declared that he could not allow "one of my father's subjects" to die of pneumonia, so he pulled her up and sat her in front of him on the horse. She struggled, but his arm, holding her around the waist as he galloped, was like iron. So was his chest against which he held her tightly.

Just like Mickey's chest, I thought. And if Mickey thought that I endangered myself in a storm, he'd be furious. He'd probably take me over his lap and spank me in my tights. Yes, that's just what he'd do.

The book fell from my hand. My eyes were closed and my other hand had found its way to my crotch again. I don't care, I thought, I'm going to do what I want. Ask permission to play with myself? Ask permission! How dare he! Besides, ... mmmmmm ... this won't take long and ... nnnnnhhhh ... Jennie won't be back for hours. No one will ever know.

In another few seconds I was transported in my mind back to Angie's place. I was again bent over the couch humping it as Angie spanks me. Yes, yes, ... mmmmm ... I'm a naughty little pain slut who needs to be spanked. Suddenly, Angie's husband, Roger, comes home, but in my fantasy we don't hear him in time. He enters the living room to find his wife spanking me as I hump the couch in tights. He throws me over his lap and vigorously spanks me. After a while, he yanks down my tights and spanks me on the bare. That's when he sees the zucchini in me. "I'll teach you what a real prick is," he says, and soon I'm sucking him off while Angie and Jennie spank me.

Mmmmm ... [gasp] ... yes, oh yes ... nnnuhhuh ...

"SOO MAY!"

I screamed and jumped nearly to the ceiling. It was Jennie. She couldn't have been gone more than half an hour.

"Jennie!" I nearly screamed, "what are you doing here? And how dare you come into my room without knocking."

"I live here, and I forgot my handballs, and you left your door wide open," she explained. "Now, what are you doing? No, wait, I know what you are doing. The question is did you call Angie and get her permission, because you sure didn't get mine."