Academy Pt. 07

Coach Carter knelt to clip her shackles to the bench again.

"You don't go anywhere, ok? No slipping away to your happy place while I do this."

"Yef, fer," Abbi said again. No, sir, wouldn't think of it. You've got my attention all hooked up and ready for every second of this.

While he went around back, Abbi realized something that hadn't occurred to her before about gags. They didn't make the wearer any quieter, in fact she often made much more noise while wearing one, and while it wasn't always clear, she could make herself heard if necessary.

"Fer?" Abbi asked. "Will you fftop to make fure I okay?"

"You want me check if you're ok? What, like halfway through?"

"Yef, pleaff."

"Of course, Miss Abbi," Coach Carter cooed.

"Ok, I'm going to tap a few times, then I'm going to start for real. Keep as quiet and still as you can."

Abbi put her forehead on the bench, tensing for the first blow. The tap-tap-tap felt like the ticking of a timebomb.

There wasn't much pain from the first two strokes even though it was the hardest she'd ever been hit before. The Coach was really going for it, no warmup at all, and she felt the impacts all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. Abbi tried to feel around for the pain but all she got was the hook and a sense of numbness that usually didn't show until deep into the spanking.

Then the third stroke hit, the timebomb went off, and the pain became overwhelming. Then two more, seemingly on the same exact spot each time, then probably more beyond that but Abbi had lost all sense.

She heard herself screaming and felt her body straining against the bonds in animalistic agony and all she could think was Wow, this sucks!

"That's ten," Coach Carter declared. "Are you ok?"

"Unnnnfff," Abbi groaned. "No!"

Gosh darn this man! Abbi thought. If he would be just a little nicer to me, this could actually be fun.

"No?"

The shock passed and the pain spread as a raging wildfire up her back and down her legs. A wave of shame hit her even harder than the cane and she started weeping.

"Come on little girl, it's not that bad."

If I could squeeze this uncomfortable hunk of metal out of my ass, maybe it wouldn't be, was what she thought. Wordless cries complicated by the gag was all that came out.

"Just ten more and we can cuddle."

Fuck this guy. I mean, really! Abbi thought. What a fucking asshole!

"Ten more. Come on now, just be strong."

"I juft need a minute," she cried. "Pleaf. One minute."

Abbi wished she knew this man better, or maybe not at all. It felt all wrong that he seemed to be pushing her to say her safeword. Brat-taming was one thing, this...this just didn't make sense.

"Tell me I'm doing good." It was a challenge choosing words that didn't make her sound silly.

"You are doing good." He rubbed his free hand across her crispy-fried butt cheeks.

"Tell me I'm going to be ok," she insisted. The shame and pain and growing hatred of the Coach were threatening everything she'd done and still expected to do at the Spanking Academy.

"You are going to be ok."

Tears kept flowing, but the terrible hitching subsided and she was able to take some deep breaths. If she could only wipe her face off, scratch the itch that had been plaguing her nose, or just brush the sweat-matted hair that seemed plastered all over her face, she could believe what he said. What she told him to say.

"You're a fucking affhole."

Oh boy, she thought. That felt good to say out loud.

"Yes I am."

"You're going to cane me ten more timef, aren't you?"

"Yes I am."

"You don't get to fuck me afterward."

The 'F' word had always felt wrong coming out of her mouth, so she used it sparingly in real life and never at the Academy. Maybe it was the gag that made it feel so right in the moment?

"I'm ok with that."

"Go ahead."

"Really? Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"No. Ftop fucking wif me and do it."

Without another word he whipped her ass ten more times. He was quick about it, which was something?

Abbi, for her part, started crying "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," from the eleventh stroke and didn't stop until a while after he had ended his second assault. A new wave of pain crashed into her body, less localized than but just as harsh as the first round. Abbi bit down hard on the gag and hyperventilated through her nose, hoping to ride it out without screaming again.

"There," Coach Carter said. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Abbi ignored him to take stock while the pain receded to a dull throb. She was going to have a rough time sitting for the next few days at least.

Kamilla had told her of the wonderful lotions and salves that Nurse Polk had to help her friend recover from the worst of the beatings the Academy faculty inflicted on her ass. Maybe she'd head there directly, take Nurse Polk up on the offer she made the first time they met. How did she put it?

Relieve me of my hysteria, Abbi remembered.

"Miss Abbi?"

"Fuck you."

"There she is."

"Get me out of thif," she lisped. Fuck this gag! "Now, pleaf."

He released the gag first and tossed it on the bench. The pool of slobber, tears, and whatever else had leaked out of her head during her punishment, had collected in a mortifying pool in front of her.

"Do you want me to wipe your face off, or shall I release your hands so you can take care of it yourself."

"Hands," Abbi coughed. She worked her jaw, licked her lips, and did her best to get her mouth working properly again. "Hands, please."

She refused to look at him while he complied.

"There you go."

"Get that fucking hook out of my ass," Abbi said, riding the shockwave of profanity as far as it would let her. "Please."

Abbi grabbed the hand towel and went to work on her face. It came away wet and smeared with makeup. She dropped it in the pain puddle and waited to get unhooked. She didn't feel like moving until it was out, so even though she had decided to take command, she was still his plaything until it was out.

"If it makes you feel better, you look so cute all wet and used up right now."

"Oh my gosh, you don't quit, do you?"

"Relax as much as you can."

The hook came alive, moving around inside her for the first time since he forced it in. He took his time working it out, which was good because she was afraid of what might come out after it.

"Don't push, I've got it."

Once out, it left her body feeling hollow and her private areas like a leaky swamp. Just another indignity to add to the pile.

"I'll undo the spreader in a second. Let me clean you up down there first."

The rough terrycloth towel he used was strangely comforting. He wasn't gentle with it either, but compared to what came before, having an old gym towel scraped across her privates felt refreshing.

"You are so wet down here."

"Yeah, that happens when I'm like, terrified and stuff."

"Come on, now, it wasn't that bad."

Relived of the hook, Abbi sat up as much as she could with her legs still spread and tied to the bench. She could just manage to unbutton her shirt and peel it off.

"I bet you'd be a fun date for a horror movie."

"Shut the fuck up," Abbi said, spent. "Just...just shut it."

She tried to reach her bra clasp but couldn't manage.

I don't want to ask this guy for help anymore.

"Unhook my bra." Abbi was done saying please.

"Done."

He started unshackling her ankles while she tossed her bra on the floor.

Finally free of her bondage, she did her best to stand up. Her legs felt unsteady, so she braced herself against the bench and lockers to stand to her full height.

"Need a hand?"

Abbi looked directly at Coach Carter for the first time since he'd frog-marched her into his office. He was completely naked and still erect.

"You look ridiculous," she informed. "Take off my ankle cuffs."

He knelt in front of her and got to work again.

"Wait," Abbi thought out loud.

Coach Carter looked up at her, questioning.

"No, take them off."

Wait, he's doing what I tell him to do.

Bare ankles was a nice feeling.

Yeah, girl, he has been for a while now. Where you been?

"Now my wrists."

She held her hands out. The sight of him crouched, naked, unloved hard-on still raging, and removing her cuffs on her orders was pathetic and enticing.

He is definitely following my directions. What the fuck?

It finally clicked.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Which part?" he asked.

"Me, being a brat."

"You figured it out." He looked up at her, expression inscrutable.

This fucking guy is fucking PROUD of me!

"Why didn't you pick on Kamilla to fuck up instead? She's the brat of our class."

"She would have enjoyed herself too much."

"Seriously? You picked me 'cause you knew I'd hate this?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit, you are such a weirdo."

"Thank you, Miss Abbi."

"Take off my shoes and stockings, freak."

He complied, taking his time to cop as many feels as possible as he went. Abbi tolerated it, if only to get some human touch out of the deal. Small comfort.

Hang on, how far can I push this?

Standing there naked, butt ablaze from the whipping, sweaty and disheveled but alive and thriving, Abbi decided to push it as far as she could.

"Lay down on the bench, creepo."

"On my front or back, Miss Abbi?"

"On your back," Abbi demanded, mind racing with the possibilities. Whipping this man in return would give her no pleasure.

Laying on the bench, cock pulsing in the air, Coach Carter inspired only derision.

"You don't get to fuck me. I don't even think I want you to touch me."

"Yes, Miss Abbi."

"Turn your body around so you're facing away."

He complied, his head resting on the end of the bench. She felt at least a hundred feet tall as she stood over him.

"This is what you wanted."

"Oh, yes."

"You're going to eat me out. Don't even think of touching me with anything other than your mouth."

"Yes, Miss Abbi."

"Maybe, if you take care of my cunt like the worthless fuck you are, we can talk about letting you cum."

-

"...That's what made it all so fun."

There was so much swirling, twisting, and tangled stuff going through her mind that Abbi that she resented the quality of aftercare that Coach Carter was giving her. His plain way of speaking his mind was just as soothing as the cuddling and caressing he did to help Abbi come back to herself. It drove her crazy.

Abbi disengaged from the disagreeable gentleman and started towards the locker room to get dressed again. From the office door she could see a gross pile of wet garments among the discarded tools of her torment.

"Do you have anything for me to wear?" Abbi asked, looking back at him. "I think only my skirt and panties aren't soaked."

Sitting naked on his office chair, now alone but still basking in the post-orgasmic glow, sleepy eyes saying one thing while his smirk said another, Abbi realized that she felt magnetically attracted to him.

This of course only made Abbi hate him more.

I would totally play with this weirdo if he asked again, she thought. And I would probably hate it then too.

She sensed no regret in his expression, only satisfaction. Abbi was ambiguous; cumming on his face while he jerked himself off was just as bittersweet as everything else that had happened since coming to the 5th floor.

"Take a set of athletic wear, just bring them back once you are done with them."

"Yes, Coach," she answered. In the end, it was just easier to fall back into Academy-approved compliance rather than tangle with the man any longer.

A couple of minutes later, she was dressed and heading for the door, determined to snub him. She got all the way across the gym to the heavy fire doors when she heard him clear his throat.

"It was nice playing with you, Miss Abbi," he called after her, insisting on the getting in the last word.

-

Dear Diary,

What a weird weekend. I could easily say that about every Academy weekend so far, but yeah, this was weird even for Mt. Lee.

We went to Olivera St. for the fieldtrip last night. There was music on the gazebo and a traditional Mexican dance troop and the little shop stalls stayed open late and it was great to get out and feel normal, you know? Free! I felt free! And it was beautiful. Listening to that fun music and the bright colors and happy people, it just melted me.

I sat next to Kamilla on the bus all the way there and held her hand and told her what happened with Coach Carter.

She said that most of her scenes played out something like what I experienced with all of her teachers. I don't know if that makes me feel better or what, but I felt so close to her that it hurt the whole trip across town. I wanted to tell her so much that it made me feel a little sick and the traffic wasn't helping.

It felt better to get out and walk around. Summer nights in LA are pretty nice compared to the dangerous crazy that's Sarasota. It was still cool, even though the clouds left in the afternoon.

The whole Junior class had dinner in a Mexican food joint right on Olivera St, the promenade or whatever, on the patio so we could people watch. So many people! The food was ok (the Cantina where I wait tables at is way better) but it feels so good to just be with my people. Out and stuff, just being normal. Normal clothes! I felt kinda frumpy in my capri pants and tank top once I saw what everyone else was wearing. But I was with the cool kids, so whatevers.

And Kamilla. The way she looked at me all night, held my hand, wouldn't leave my side even when I needed to pee.

A little while before we were supposed to leave, she took me off to an area outside the crowded shops, to this stone garden looking right at Union Station which was all lit up and the downtown buildings so nearby, but she was the most beautiful thing ever. My friend.

"What's on your mind, love?"

"It's that obvious, huh?"

I wish I could remember exactly what I said. I had been rehearsing it in my head since dinner and any time when I wasn't talking to someone. Anyway, I told her. And it went ok, I guess? We didn't have shower sex, but she did kiss me goodnight and said something I'm having trouble believing in the daylight. And when I woke up, she was already gone, but she did leave her phone number on a scrap of paper with hearts all around it. So, there's that.

The Academy doesn't have any rules that keeps the students from hanging out, and like, what is it, fraternizing? Getting together during the week. In fact, I don't think I've heard it brought up even once. I do know that everyone has homes to go to, families and friends to be with and stuff. All the Sophomores are single, I know that, except for Blair and I think her Mommy gives her a long leash. Pretty sure the Freshmen and Seniors are too. Who knows about the faculty? Probably not. It just never occurred to me to try to get together with any of my classmates.

I feel like there's this wall between my real life and the Academy training and that is probably healthy. I haven't thought much about what's going to happen afterward, either.

It's not exactly a double life, since Sunday to Thursday is working late at the Cantina, waking up around lunchtime in my studio apartment in glamorous Hollywood (seriously, how shitty poopy is Hollywood? Who knew?), eating, working out, catching up on Selling Sunset (I mean, it's right there, right? Reality shows LIE!) and heading off to work again. That's just a flat blur when I get on the bus to go back to the Academy on Friday nights. Mt. Lee feels more real than real life, like I'm some sort of weekend vigilante but instead of kicking butts I get sexy stuff done to mine.

One thing that never leaves my mind, though, or one person, is Kamilla. My Kami.

She's not even mine, though. She's getting just as much action as me and every other student there. I see how she is with the others. I see how she is with the teachers, and gosh darnit, I love her! I fucking love her!

She should be mine. Oof that feels so weird and bad to write down. Jealous much?

We should be together, like for real. How about that, conscience? Better?

It's not what I started with though, my big speech where I revealed my true feelings and get the girl. That should have been what I said first. Like, I was honest, but I thought if maybe I waited to tell her that, it would soften the blow or something. Give her a chance to say that my fears weren't real.

Like, dangit, how hard is it?

I love you, Kami. I love you, Kamilla. I love you, girl.

Frickin frack, it's not what I said first, and now I'm pissed at myself.

What I said was something like this:

"I don't want this to just be sex, you know? I don't want to be just another conquest, or whatever. You are so beautiful and cool and smart and you have the all the teachers literally eating out of your hand. It's been so great, meeting you and being one of the cool kids and hanging out and stuff. I've never really had that before.

I had two relationships before I met my online Daddy. They were both fine, just boys. Florida boys, you know? Dummies with big hearts. The only thing either of them knew about sex was porn and love was bad advice from YouTube videos. They did their best, and I almost got married to the second boy, but I didn't. Good for me, right?

Then I found spanking. I didn't know it was possible for someone to make their flower hurt from too much playing, but I did it. I played with myself so much that it started to hurt, looking at girls getting spanked. Then I found this amazing art, this kinky sexy webcomic called Sunstone, and that led me to Fetlife, and then I met my Daddy, he got me into the Academy, then I met you.

And I want to be with you so bad, it hurt. And when you said that you wanted to shower with me earlier, it like, made my heart hurt even worse. Cause I don't want it to just be a shower, you know?"

All you had to say was "I love you," dummy. Gosh.

At some point I started crying. Academy weekends are always a carnival pirate ship of feelings, but the Coach brought out some ugly stuff inside me and I hated myself for allowing it to happen, for not saying my safeword, for enjoying what he did to me even though he said things that made me feel like poop. What's that called? Degradation? Ooof.

And with Kamilla on my mind that whole time, promising a fun time with a good friend and all I wanted was to tell her how much I love her and for her to say it too.

I cried and she held me and whispered in my ear that she was sorry, and it was all going to be ok. She kissed my cheek and took my hand and led me back to the bus and we sat down, and she held my hand the whole time while I cried in the empty bus.

When my friends got on the bus, it got better but it was still hard. All the Sophomores were so caring and encouraging. A couple of Freshmen girls patted my shoulder, and a Senior boy said he'd fight whoever made me cry like that. LOL. They all did their best getting me to smile and even laugh and I felt so taken care of, but I kept crying and didn't stop until she tucked me into bed.

When I looked at her and smiled and she smiled back and kissed me goodnight, I felt better. And when I finally started drifting off to sleep, she finally said what I couldn't bring myself to, for like weeks now, because I'm too afraid of getting hurt.

Me, afraid to get hurt, a woman who pretends to be a girl so she can get tied up and fucked and scolded and praised and get her bottom spanked hard enough to make her cry, and cum, like a lot.

Anyway...she said it for me, gave me the chance to say it back.

"Abbi? You still awake?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah...Hey Abbi? I love you."

"I love you too, Kami."

"Sleep well, love. You deserve it."

-

So, I'm writing this in a small wood gazebo on the Academy grounds. The bus back to civilization has already gone, but my counsellor promised me they'd hook me up with a ride, one of the teachers maybe.