A True Slut's Education Ch. 02

"You filthy little whore, look how wet you are!" Mr Ashwell gloated as he scooped up a fingerful of her wetness. Offering his digits to her mouth he fed Louise her juices.

Louise lapped at the liquid offered to her, then suckled his finger as she tasted herself on his skin. The creamy, acidic tang of her feminine lubrication filled her mouth. She opened her eyes and looked up at her tormentor standing over her. His jawline was cast in shadow, the firelight behind him giving him a glinting chestnut halo. With his sleeves rolled up Louise was able to admire his arms, toned and lightly haired. She wanted to move, kiss up his arms and on to his body.

Mr Ashwell was letting Louise suckle his finger, her warm tongue snaking around his digit. She really was rather alluring. From Mr Howard's disparaging comments about his wife he had expected her to be suitably compliant, but her willingness and eagerness to please was well above his expectations. He had hoped for a good fuck...but perhaps he had been gifted more than that. She had potential.

He tore his finger from her mouth and walked around her. More juice had pooled at the entrance to her pussy and was slowly being smeared between her thighs as she helplessly rubbed them together. His cock chaffed uncomfortably as it protruded through his trousers. Deftly unbuckling his belt he slid off his pants and pulled his shirt over his head -- it had suddenly become overly warm in his office.

Louise heard the clothing rustle, and the chink of his belt being released then dropped to the floor. She wanted to turn, to look at him nude and exposed to her judgement. Her neck ached as she struggled to control herself. Was he hairy? Tanned?

"Just two more, my little slut, and we'll see how wet you can get for me." Mr Ashwell interrupted her reverie. He slapped Louise smartly across both buttocks and watched as her feet stomped on the spot, nervously dancing. Gripping the cane once more he took his stance.

Backhand, a sharp swat of his wrist and Louise was squealing, tears bursting from her closed eyelids. His strike had landed on its intended target, crushing the lower curve of her buttocks and catching her pouting pussy lips. Her weight on her upper body and the desk, her legs flicked up; her calves squashing against her thighs as if to protect them from the biting assault.

"Be still." Mr Ashwell barked his command and Louise instantly lowered her legs. Her reaction pleased him, as did the sight of her saporous cunt. The urge to plunge himself deep within her was dire, tempting him into forgiving her the final lashing. He crushed his desire with a growl.

Louise was whimpering on the desk, her most delicate of parts stinging as the teacher's libertine treatment; Mr Ashwell's bestial roar still echoing in her ears. Her clitoris was resonating with the sharp twang of the cane and she couldn't discern whether it was in pure pain or some strange kind of enjoyment. She calmed herself with the thought that just one more painful strike remained. Just one more, and she ought to be free to go.

Mr Ashwell stroked his cock while he waited for Louise to settle. The last flick of his wrist had been a brutal one and he wanted to savour the moment. He kept Louise waiting once more before eyeing up her thighs for their ultimate lashing. They were wet with the nectar which flowed relentlessly from her engorged pussy. The smell of her was high in the air and he wanted to taste and see if she was as sweet on his tongue as she was in the air.

"One more lash Louise and I will show you how pleased you have made me. You deserve praise, my little bitch, you make a beautiful supplicant."

Mr Ashwell wanked himself as he spoke to her, blatantly flaunting his arousal. Raising his arm for effect he brought the rattan swiftly onto her thighs, scourging her slender legs.

Louise cried out, a shrill scream that faded into wracking sobs. Her legs were on fire, each nerve end proclaiming its agony as the blood returned to her crushed flesh. Worse than the agony of the whipping, her pussy felt like she was going to implode.

Never had she known anguish like it. The smell of her arousal was everywhere, the taste of the teacher's cum still strong to her senses. The way she felt so vulnerable, so abused, had turned into a yearning to be used by this beguiling tyrant. She had found her fantasy, her unknown kink, and as the pain faded she was left with a bitter sense of loss. Was it all truly over? Her pussy was aching so desperately.

The words fell from her mouth unbidden, she was unable to stop them from forming on her lips. Whisperingly they trickled like dew falling from leaves in a breeze.

"Please, Mr Ashwell, please fuck me. I need you, I want you so badly! I think I love you! The way you make me feel, when, when you hurt me.... It just makes me ache for you the more. How did you know I was like this? I had never dreamed...your cock, oh how I want it, need it, oh please fuck me!"

Louise babbled, her head reeling. She bit her lip. Had she really spoken those words? She must be mad, driven insane by the pain. She heard him shuffling behind her and braced herself, expecting another lash for having told Mr Ashwell her thoughts.

A firm hand slid up her inner thighs, spreading out at the junction between her legs and cupping her pussy. She felt her juices oozing over his hand, the touch of his palm making her legs turn to jelly. He pressed harder, sliding his index finger along one side of her clit, his middle finger on the other. Hard, juddering pleasure spread though her cunt as he squeezed his fingers together, her clitoris trapped in his clutches.

"Oh yes, please! Oohhhhhh!!" Louise groaned loud and long as the fingers were removed, swiftly being replaced by the colossal head of Mr Ashwell's giant member.

Without so much as a preliminary tease, Mr Ashwell buried his Herculean shaft right up to the hilt in Louise's pussy. Hearing the little bitch moaning for his meat had him as horny as the pit of Hell itself. The little slut wanted it? He powered into her with a battery of thrusts, each harder than the last.

Mr Ashwell could feel her secretions sliding along his shaft and down onto his balls. She was so wet that he grabbed onto her shoulders, pressing her fiercely into the desk in order to keep good purchase on her. Bent over the desk, he fucked her like a maniac; sweat began to pour from him as he strained to stuff more of himself into her slick hole.

Louise felt herself crushed against the desk, pinioned to the piece of furniture with no hope of escape. The barrage of thrusts sent her mind reeling as her sex was pounded again and again. She could hear him grunting; his sweat was dripping down and over her naked back, adding to the slippery rivulet between her buttocks.

Grabbing a fist full of her hair Mr Ashwell dragged Louise's head back, his other hand moving to the desk as he ploughed into her. His balls were tightening, threatening to empty their load right into the nurse's sweet, sticky pussy. The sound of his genitals thudding, squelching into hers was enough to start him moaning anew.

Louise felt her head pulled backwards and closed her eyes as she surrendered herself to the hammering of Mr Ashwell's cock. His balls slammed roughly into her clitoris, repeatedly sending electrified jolts of sheer pleasure up through her belly and into her brain. She thought of nothing but the slopping, pounding sound of his cock inside her. Blood pulsed deafeningly through her veins.

Just as she felt she could bear no more, her body punished to breaking point, Louise felt the familiar waves of her orgasm approach. Mr Ashwell's fast-paced rhythm was spurring her clitoris into a frenzied climax of tingling sparks. Her pussy was filled so thoroughly that her most intimate of spots began to quake in delight.

Louise lost control of her limbs, her thrashing body fighting against that of Mr Ashwell's as Louise crested the zenith of her orgasm. Exquisite streaks of wanton fire ran along every inch of her skin, culminating in a climax so strong it made her howl with animal lust.

Mr Ashwell shuddered as Louise's quivering pussy cascaded sweet juices along his length. It felt like his cock was being sucked further into her divine form, milking him as she screamed her satisfaction.

Feeling that familiar tightening in his scrotum he assaulted her creaming pussy with three hard, plunging jabs then tore his pulsating member out. It was as if there were elastic threads networked across his skin, all pulling inwards towards his cock with an irresistible attraction.

Gripping himself tightly he erupted over Louise. A long, languid stream of thick cum shot from his tip and splurged over her buttocks. A second spurt jetted out and flew over the milky pale skin of her back and up, catching in her matted hair. Wanking furiously he drained the rest of his precious liquid over the flower of her anus and watched as it dripped down to her swollen lips.

He stood, gasping for breath, as Louise lay flat on the desk amidst a filth of cum and sweat. She could feel his seed cooling quickly on her prickling skin, slimy between her damp legs. Drawing herself up she span around and sat on the desk, seeking out Mr Ashwell's eyes.

He moved between her thighs and placed his hands on her face, still panting, and planted a kiss on her lips. Retreating, he reached to the coat stand and removed a large flannel gown, wrapping it around himself.

"Well my pretty, I certainly can't complain at your performance. You did well to endure my advances without a tantrum." He wiped his forehead on a sleeve, his face flushed. "Let's hope you perform as admirably for Jim." He nodded towards the video camera, signalling for the porter.

"But you said six lashes and my debts would be paid!" Louise sat on the desk, her jaw slack, stupefied. "You can't make me go to him now! We had a deal!"

"I lied," said Mr Ashwell. "I am a cruel man, Louise, and I will do what I have to do to get what I want. Now hurry up my pretty, before you get cold." He reached down to pick up her uniform before throwing it to Louise on the desk.

"No! No!" She broke down into huge, defeated sobs, her pretty features crumpling into her hands.

Mr Ashwell laughed before unstoppering a decanter of whiskey from on the fireplace and pouring himself a measure. Footsteps, shuffling and heavy, approached from the direction of the stairs. Swilling the amber liquid in the crystal tumbler he smiled to himself before taking a well-deserved swig.