A True Slut's Education Ch. 02byDeeFisher©
It is highly recommended that this, chapter two, is read immediately after chapter one in order to follow on the storyline and avoid confusion over characters and their roles. While this is in the non-consent / reluctance category, it also has themes of S&M running strongly through it and would fit just as well into the BDSM category.
Returning to the desk he looked again at Louise, her face still covered in his cum. He scooped up the now cooling sperm with his finger and fed her the gelatinous mess.
She took it without question, suckling on his fingers. Her pussy was still tingling, desperate for release. Not long ago she had cried, bawled at being subjected to his blackmail. Now she wanted to beg for him to touch her.
Smearing the last of his spunk onto her lips, Mr Ashwell smiled at Louise.
"Mrs Howard, you are dismissed."
Louise looked up at Mr Ashwell, his dark hair still slick with sweat following his orgasm. His salty taste still lingered on her lips, testament to his enjoyment of her first ever blowjob. Her heart was pounding, her scalp sore where he had tugged at her head and forced his cock into her over-stretched mouth.
Still rubbing her wrists, Louise feared to get up. She felt he was playing another game with her, having raped her mouth surely he would want to take the rest of her body too? Whilst relieved that he seemed to be showing compassion, her body was singing with unreleased tension. She had gone from hating this blackmailer to aching all over with desire.
"Well, what are you waiting for?"
"I, er, nothing." Louise's voice faltered. Her body was screaming at her to ask him to fuck her, but instead she sat in stupefied silence. She had come to pick her son up, been held to ransom over his future, and made to suck cock in a way she had only ever seen on TV. Her face was covered in a thin film of cum, her nurse's uniform unzipped to the waist and there was a puddle of her juices underneath her on the hard wooden seat of her chair.
Worse than enduring her degradation, Louise had enjoyed it.
Pulling at her senses she tried not to think of her reactions to this dark, fierce man and his cruel treatment of her. She made to redress herself, wanting to cover up and escape.
"You are dismissed. I believe Jim will be waiting for his turn in the porter's office downstairs."
"The night porter? What do you mean, his turn?" Her finger rested on the metal zip, twitching nervously.
"Our night porter also takes care of our security. This room is fitted with cameras and a microphone, for the safety of our students of course. No doubt he has been watching and listening to our little arrangement with great interest. You may have succeeded in persuading me to forget about your shortcomings, but I'm sure Jim will also require some kind of favour in order to keep quiet."
Waving casually towards the fireplace Mr Ashwell demonstrated the location of a previously unnoticed video camera. There, next to a mounted cane by the mirror flashed a tiny red light, blinking as it transmitted a live feed. Louise moaned, flushing with embarrassment at having been debased in such a public way. She imagined the fat little porter watching her sucking on Mr Ashwell's cock, her breasts foaming over their discarded bra and bouncing as she was abused. An image of him wanking a stubby, grimy cock, vile spunk dribbling weakly onto his portly belly darted into her mind and her bile rose.
"Oh god... Oh no, I can't, I can't suck that man."
"Don't worry yourself about that. Our porter is not known for having a lascivious taste in women. No, I imagine he will be wanting to take his pleasure from your lovely pert little bottom instead. A good buggering should sort you out just fine!" Mr Ashwell laughed as Louise squealed, dismayed at the thought of having her bottom penetrated by the aged night porter.
"No no no, you can't let him do that to me!! Please, please, don't let him fuck my arse! Anything but that! Please, I'll pay you, I can make some kind of arrangement." Louise blabbered to Mr Ashwell then buried her face in her hands.
Mr Ashwell let her cry, watching her shoulders heave in wracking sobs. The idea of the night porter taking her crudely and savagely from behind had him aroused again and he felt the blood start flowing into his still-exposed cock. The little slut would love it really, shamed to taking an old man's dick up her rectum. He had no desire to intervene, what the night porter did with this fine piece of female flesh was none of his business, but he decided to let her try to persuade him to protect her anyway.
Resisting the urge to tug at his cock he went to the coat stand and removed Louise's overcoat.
"You are dismissed, as I have already stated. Take your coat. I have papers to mark." He held it out to her and watched as she rose to her feet unsteadily. The aroma of feminine arousal permeated the air and Mr Ashwell's prick twitched in response.
Dishevelled, confused and reeling with the impossibility of the task ahead of her Louise walked over to reach for her coat from the manipulative Mr Ashwell. His cock was jutting out from his crotch and pulsating rudely. She could still smell his cum, still taste his cock on her breath.
Louise reached over for her coat.
"Is there really nothing you could do? Could you not threaten him that you will have him fired if he dares say anything? Please, I beg you, don't make me fuck that man!" She instinctively grabbed at his hands, squeezing them as if to plead with them.
"Threaten a man for doing precisely what I have? That would make me a hypocrite. Besides, you have nothing special that I would want in exchange."
Louise knew she had to try. She hated herself for even thinking of it, but in truth her horror at pleasing Jim was tempered by the still-throbbing urge which held her pussy captive. There was no point denying it further, she was as ashamed of herself already as she felt she could be.
"There is nothing I can do for you to change your mind? Nothing at all?" The words came with difficulty but she meant it. She would do anything with this man if it meant she didn't have to touch the porter.
"My dear, I fear my tastes in pleasure lie far from your own. While I accepted your mouth in exchange for a considerable favour on my part, I am not a cruel man. I would not subject you to my particular fetishes without full consent."
"I do consent. I mean it! Save me from that man, and in exchange you can do whatever you want with me, I don't care. He makes me feel sick! The way he leered at me in the corridor, his horrid breath on my skin as he pushed up against me, no, I couldn't bear to be touched by him!" She shuddered and gagged.
Seeing her in such a state of fear had Mr Ashwell trembling with desire. He couldn't help it, he just loved to see a woman in need. Pulling her close, he raised her gaze to his own.
"Very well. If you're certain then I will accept your offer." Her face seemed so small in his embrace. For the first time Mr Ashwell appreciated her beauty close up. Her lips were perfect, the most beautiful dusky rose pink and ambrosial in their fullness. Her chin was pointed and almost elfin. Black streaks still smeared from her eyes where she had wiped away tears not long before.
"Strip for me. I want to see what else I can enjoy."
Releasing her, Mr Ashwell went behind his desk and reclined in his chair. Louise was left by the coat stand. Reaching up to her fob watch she unclasped it and placed it carefully on the edge of the desk. She took a step back. The idea of Jim watching her over the video link made her skin crawl, but it was better than allowing his hands to caress her.
Slowly she unzipped the uniform once more, the royal blue cotton slashing open to reveal her black French lace bra. As she slipped the uniform down off her shoulders her nipples came into view behind the semi-opaque cups. They peeked pertly showing her arousal to the corrupt teacher. Her slim waist allowed the uniform to fall around her hips.
Louise wondered if Mr Ashwell was expecting a full strip-tease. She was so nervous though that she merely slipped the uniform down and over her hips, letting it drop to the floor.
Mr Ashwell watched with his cock in his hand as the nurse removed her dress. His eyes widened as he saw that she wore no knickers. French lace encircled her hips. Her suspender belt highlighted the triangle of shaved flesh between her legs and was attached to a pair of lace-topped stockings.
"You surprise me Louise. I always thought nurses would wear white cotton panties under their uniforms. You little minx." His tone was both derogatory and amused.
Louise blushed as he ogled her pussy from behind the desk. "The hospital gets hot, and knickers are bad for feminine hygiene. Stockings allow a woman to breathe."
"I bet they do, my sexy little slut. Enjoy letting the patients get a glimpse of your forbidden fruits, do you?"
She blushed even harder. While she never flashed on purpose, the idea of the younger male patients finding out that she wore no knickers had always turned her on. Occasionally she would slyly play with herself during clinic, hidden behind the curtains and biting her lip to stifle her moans. She couldn't help it -- her husband never satisfied her and left her to simmer for weeks on end.
"I can't imagine what the doctors would say if they knew their nurse was wandering around with no underwear on, her pussy-scent turning all the patients on, her juices moistening her thighs while she writes her notes..." Mr Ashwell licked his lips and stood. He stalked around to the front of his desk. "Talking of which, you seem to have left a little puddle on my antique chair. Come."
Mr Ashwell beckoned to Louise.
"On your hands and knees. Clean this mess up, I want it licked clean then polished with your tits."
Louise did not dare disobey. Stepping forwards she bent and placed both hands on the floor then crawled to the chair a few feet away. The floorboards were smooth and surprisingly cold beneath her.
Levering herself up to the seat of the chair she examined the creamy smear of moisture on the chair's seat. Trying not to envisage the various derrieres which had occupied it before her, she extended her tongue and lapped at the slickness. The taste of her own musk was rich and sweet as she licked up every remnant from the polished wood.
Louise tried not to think about herself and the predicament she was in. Nude except for some lace which made her feel all the more exposed she was on her knees for the schoolmaster. Her hands were getting dusty and the shame of having to lick her own juices off of a chair having just been face-fucked on it was just too much to bear.
Mr Ashwell had strolled behind her and she could feel his gaze on her bared pussy lips. Feeling vulnerable had her pulse unexpectedly racing. She leant over the chair and rubbed her breasts over the seat. His hands brushed her buttocks unexpectedly but she didn't stop until the seat of the chair was dry.
"That will do. Now, over by the fireplace, fetch my cane."
Louise knew then the price at which her salvation from Jim was to come at.
Scrambling ungracefully from the floor she walked over and retrieved the rattan cane from the wall. Her hands shook as she carried it over to Mr Ashwell. While not heavy, she estimated it to be just under a half inch wide and over three foot long. A crooked end completed the cane.
Mr Ashwell waited silently as she fetched for him.
"This cane has been in the school for longer than I, Louise. Many a pupil has been disciplined over the years with it. A little linseed oil and a cane can witness many a correctional swipe.
"Traditionally a pupil was able to avoid a week's worth of detention by begging for a swishing from the headmaster instead. It may leave a good sting in the tail but no doubt is preferable to losing out on one's free time. I will offer you the same choice. You can leave and go and enjoy a good session with our old night porter, or stay and pay your dues with a sharp swishing. Which is it to be?"
Louise shook as she held the cane. Looking down at it, the cane didn't seem too aggressive, but she was already aware that looks could be deceiving. A caning or a buggering, how had she ended up with such a raw choice!
"I'll take the cane." Her voice was small and quavered as she spoke.
"Now now, we can do better than that. I'm inclined to refuse if that's as good as it gets. Try again."
"Please, Mr Ashwell, I would prefer the cane." Her eyes tipped forwards and met his stare as she asked politely.
"Beg for it."
Louise blushed. She felt silly, stood in her undergarments in front of this man, cane in hand, asking to be whipped. Silly, but just a little tingle of excitement ran up her spine. Her attraction to Mr Ashwell was increasing and her pussy was still pleading to be touched.
"Beg for it, Louise, as if you mean it." Mr Ashwell reached forwards and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The tender touch sent Louise giddy. She had to do this, had to make things right for the sake of her son and for her own sanity now.
Holding the cane up to him, she tried again.
"Please, Mr Ashwell, I'm so sorry for putting you to this trouble. I didn't mean to be such a lacking wife that my husband had to leave me to find happiness. If you would be so, so kind, to please cane me and save me from the porter then I would be so grateful. I beg you, please cane me."
Louise was surprised to find the words so easy to utter. She realised she meant them, she did feel responsible somehow for everything that had happened to her. She also, for no logical reason she could put her finger on, desperately wanted to please this man. He seemed so in control yet so full of aggression. His praise was addictive.
"Very well. Six lashes, and your debts are paid."
Mr Ashwell led Louise to his desk, perching her on the edge facing him. Those ruby lips were quivering slightly but to her credit the woman hadn't burst into tears again. Putting the cane to one side he reached to his wrist and began to roll up his sleeves, making sure that Louise watched him.
"Take off your lower garments. It'll be easier on your thighs if you do."
"Thighs?" said Louise. She had expected him to cane her hands or maybe her buttocks, but not her thighs. She reached down and touched them.
One glance from Mr Ashwell and she was kicking off her shoes. Her fingers fumbled undoing the clasps to her stockings. One by one she rolled them down, exposing pale slender legs before removing her suspender belt. She folded her items neatly and put them on the clean chair.
Naked except for her bra she stood before him.
Mr Ashwell looked at the sylph-like figure of Mrs Louise Howard stood primly before him. She was so perfectly formed, what an idiot that husband of hers must be. She was so compliant, unquestioning!
He stepped up to her and fondled her hair between his fingertips. The straight, shimmering chestnut highlighted her pale skin beautifully. Reaching behind her he undid her bra and let her breasts hang freely.
Breathing into her ear he slid a hand up and over her left breast, pressed close to her. Louise wanted to swoon, her pussy was clamouring for attention and it took all her might not to throw herself at him as he tweaked her nipple. Her face tilted upwards towards him, seeking a kiss.
None was offered.
Mr Ashwell took a step back and retrieved his cane. Lovingly he ran his hands over it, the yellowing beige bending as he flexed it gently.
He tapped the tip of the desk with it. "Bend over onto my desk. Breasts flat on the top, hands under your chin, bottom out."
Louise did as she was told. She stifled a squeak as her skin touched the cold embossed leather tabletop.
She heard him swish the cane behind her and trembled. From top to toe her body involuntarily shivered as if the November air had been let in.
"Will you be still for me Louise, or do I need to tie you?"
"No Mr Ashwell, I won't move. I promise. If this will keep me away from the porter then I won't budge." She wanted to add "if it will please you" but kept this to herself.
Mr Ashwell admired his prone victim as she leant over the desk. Her bare feet were on tiptoes, the desk a large, sturdy antique as old as the school itself. Her buttocks were a milky white and deliciously full. Her breasts were visibly squashed against the surface.
Mr Ashwell walked around her, admiring the view while Louise waited. The anticipation of six lashes on her soft thighs was growing inside him. He kicked her feet a little wider until they were shoulder width apart.
Louise wanted to scream as Mr Ashwell prolonged her waiting. A panic that had lurked beneath the surface suddenly peaked and for a moment she thought she would vomit. How on earth had she ended up in this situation, she hadn't done anything wrong! She felt like her muscles were fighting against her mind, wanting to tense and move away from this threat while her head told her that she had no other option but to stay where she was and endure the pain.
Mr Ashwell knew Louise's mental struggle, his arousal increasing as he saw her bottom lip being bitten in worry. He enjoyed making her wait, his sadistic tendencies tempting him into further delay.
Stroking the very tip of the cane up along the inside of her ankle he teased Louise. Her skin prickled as he continued to move it upwards, along her calf and behind her knee. Her nerves were frayed as Mr Ashwell took the cane away, swished it the air, and then returned to tickling her. Ever so slowly the cane wound its way up her inner thigh until Louise could bear it no more.
"Please, get it over with! Just do it!"
Unseen by the stricken woman in front of him, Mr Ashwell smiled. Taking a step to his right he raised the cane slightly before bringing it down swiftly back-hand with a flick of his wrist.
Louise shrieked as a stinging fire lit up along the top of both her thighs. The cane bit her flesh with an electrifyingly sharp jolt. As the pain hit Louise hissed, only for the sharp sting to be replaced with a burning heat.
She barely had time to compose herself before another flick of Mr Ashwell's wrist sent her careening into a spiral of biting agony. This time she couldn't help but shriek, her thighs throbbing angrily as she bent over the desk.
Mr Ashwell smiled as he watched the young woman's thigh blanch briefly before blossoming into an angry red. His last stroke had been an inch below the crease of her buttocks and he admired her full globes as they flushed from beneath. To her credit, Louise had not flinched from her position over the desk.
His next stroke hit harder, straight across the buttocks. Louise had not been expecting it and she groaned out loud as her bottom lit up with pain. Another strike overlapping the first and it felt like a swarm of wasps was attacking her behind. A warm sensation flooded between her thighs and Louise wondered if she was bleeding, her bottom stripped of its flesh.
Mr Ashwell paused and took a moment to enjoy his quarry. Two vivid red stripes decorated her upper thighs, with another pair of criss-cross lines marking her buttocks. Her eyes were screwed tightly closed. Beads of perspiration gathered on her lined forehead, her complexion pale against the desktop.
Her forehead was not the only place to be dampened from his ministrations however. As his eyes examined his handiwork more closely the head of boy's discipline stiffened as he saw Louise's inner thighs. Slick pussy juice glistened in the firelight. Her labia were engorged, swollen. The shining scarlet lips beckoned Mr Ashwell to touch them.
Reaching down, he slid his index finger along her inner thigh and up to the delicately pouting entrance to her pussy. He parted her labia only for his finger to be instantly soaked as a profusion of viscous juices oozed from Louise's vagina. Louise moaned as he slid further into her.