Being Bad

My knees began to feel like jell-o and my stomach twisted. My lungs pulled in a deep breath. I didn't know what to say. My chin dropped lower. Did I want this?

"I'm going to change, and I'll be back in ten minutes. When I come back in this room, I want you in position over the bed, skirt raised over your back. Do you understand?"

I whispered, "yes."

"Yes, what?" he growled softly, the words coming from deep in his throat.

"Uhhhh... yes, Sir?" I asked.

"How else would you address the Dean of this school, Meggin?"

"Yes, Mr. Colby?" I blanched.

"Oh, girl you are in for a hiding," he replied. "You will address me as Sir. Do you understand?"

I whimpered, "Yes, Sir".

"Remember this, Meggin. Your safe word will be RED called out in succession three times. RED, RED, RED. Calling out your safe word will stop all action. Have you got that?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered as I nodded.

With that he rose, straightened his attire and left the room with one cursory glance over his shoulder, his eyes searing into me then sliding to the bed. "This side of the bed, Meggin, I want to see your bottom when I open the door". And he was gone. The door clicked shut.

I waited just a few seconds, went to the door and turned the knob. The door opened, it wasn't locked. I could leave if I wanted. Did I want this? I began to pace, my mind lecturing about my rash behavior in coming here. And then I berated myself for answering this stranger, telling him things I'd really not even wanted to admit to myself. They'd just been fantasies, hadn't they? Or was I ready to for this? I knew that time had a way of playing with your mind when you were confused and nervous. The seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes like hours. I felt as if I'd been in this room for a very long time. What was I going to do? I heard a soft sound at the door and rushed to the side of the bed. The position was a bit awkward as I leaned over laying my upper body across the bed. Feet, knees and legs tightly together, the position arched my back raising my bottom high. I grimaced and gripped my skirt sliding it up and over my back. Why hadn't I worn a slip? I felt myself moisten between my legs. I wondered how long I'd paced, how long it had been since he left and how long I was doomed to stand in this ridiculous position.

It seemed like an eternity before I heard the door open and I was blinded by the thought 'what if it's not even him'? I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.

"Good girl." (Ah, his voice.) I sensed him walking around behind me. I could feel his eyes slipping over my form. His hand coming down just above the small of my back startled me and I jerked in response. Why didn't he say something? His hand felt hot on my back and much like I would imagine a chunk of lead might feel. His hand began to make small circles. I tensed. "Meggin, I will spank until I see true contrition. We simply cannot tolerate disrespect to our instructors. Do you understand?"

I managed to mumble, "Yes, Sir".

I felt him move to my left side. His voice was firm, "Spread your legs wide."

There was no way I could move. I froze. Went rigid. He moved behind me. "Girl, don't make me start with a paddle on this cold bottom. Do as you are told."

It felt like I was in mud to my hips as I began to move my feet apart. When they were about shoulder width apart I stopped. I felt cool air swirling between my legs causing a chill to run down my spine.

SMAAAACK! "I said spread your legs wide!"

The place his hand had landed stung like fire. I'd not been prepared and had squealed from the shock. I also spread my legs – wide apart.

He had moved to my side again. "I'll begin. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sir", I whispered.

I was surprised by the quickness of his hand coming down again and again. Each pop overlapped the previous one as he deftly covered my entire bottom. Soon my hips began to squirm. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Over and over his hand came down. It seemed that each time it was a little harder, a little hotter, and a little more intense. I heard myself let out soft moans and grunts and wondered where they came from as my hips began to twist and try to tuck. I could feel myself becoming wet as my pelvis rocked trying to avoid the stinging smacks. The first few slaps to my sit spots brought soft 'ooohs'. It wasn't long before both cheeks, my sit spots and high on my thighs stung and from the inside, felt hot. I could hear his breathing deepening as his effort built. Then he stopped.

My body began to relax as his hand slid over the mounds of my cheeks. All too soon the rubbing stopped as he said, "Stand up."

I slipped my legs together and pushed myself up off the bed. As my back straightened I took a deep breath and sighed. I felt my skirt slide down over my hips and fall back into place.

"Remove your skirt, Meggin," he said.

My face flamed. I'd thought he was finished. That same crazy twist returned to my stomach. I felt my legs weaken and begin to quiver. Trembling fingers moved to the waist of my skirt and fumbled to undo the button and zipper. When I released it, it fell to the floor. I felt a little queasy as I bent and stepped out of the puddle of skirt on the floor. As I stood I felt my blouse slide to cover my backside and thought 'thank heaven for long shirt tails'.

His voice came again, "Hang your skirt on the clothes rack".

I picked up my skirt and walked to the clothes rack. I placed my skirt on the hanger and hooked the hanger in place then turned to face him unmoving as I awaited for his next instruction.

He was pulling the straight-backed chair from the antique desk. He turned the chair into the open space with its back to the desk and sat. He'd exchanged the tuxedo for pleated navy slacks and a long sleeved blue chambrays shirt. At the moment he was rolling up his sleeves. I watched in nervous fascination as he slowly, cuff turn by cuff turn bared strong forearms covered with soft dark hair. I couldn't help but notice that he had beautiful hands, large and slender, with long straight fingers.

The look on his face was serious, almost sinister as he called me to him. "Come here, Meggin".

Amazingly, my jell-o legs pushed one foot and then the other until I was standing just off the point of his left knee. "This will be the second portion of your spanking, Meggin," he informed me in a hushed serious tone, "Over my lap now like a good girl".

My breath caught in my throat when I noticed the paddle lying on the desk behind him. I dragged my eyes away from the fierce looking wooden paddle to study his lap a moment and then reached out to lower myself across the sharply creased slacks. As soon as my stomach touched down he grasped me, arranging me as he wanted me, head low with my bottom tilted high over his right thigh. "Hands on the floor, girl," he said as his fingers folded the long shirttail up over my back. "Tut-tut, Meggin. You are out of uniform. We do not allow anything but white cotton underwear under the school uniform. A black bra and panties? This will cost you twenty additional licks."

I shrieked as I felt his fingers work under my panty legs to cup my cheeks. "Nice and warm, Meggin, just as it should be," he said then deftly grasped the elastic at my waist and lowered my panties to mid thigh. The warm rush of blood as my head had lowered now flamed in embarrassment. What had I gotten myself into? I reached back trying to stop him but he just chuckled as his hand circled my wrist and pulled it up out of his way. I tried to pull it loose but stopped as his hand came down sharply on my right cheek. "

OUCH, shit!" I heard myself yelp. The devilish chuckle infuriated me as much as the words when he told me that I'd not felt anything... yet. His hand smacked cheek-to-cheek, top to bottom of globe and then made its way from sit spots to upper thighs. With in moments I was wriggling over his lap trying to evade that peppery hot hand.

"Now you will count the extra twenty for wearing black panties."

Smack! "One." Smack! "Ooof, two." Smack! "Fifteeeeeen." Smack, "Ohhh, twenty."

I wanted to rub my bottom so much it brought tears to my eyes. The skin of my bottom and thighs felt hot and parched. It really stung. I almost sighed as his hand began to rub his handy work. His hand felt like fire, increasing the sting rather than weakening it and still I found myself relaxing. As his fingertips grazed my crack and slid to brush my lips by breath caught. God, I wanted him to touch me and I found myself wishing I was the kind of girl that could part my legs in invitation. Then his words brought my eyes open wide, mouth too in silent shock and I heard the old adage, 'be careful what you wish for because you might just get it', as what he said hit me, "Spread your knees as far as you can with your panties around your thighs."

I just couldn't.

"I'm going to paddle you. Spread your knees! It's for your good. You won't be able to tense this sweet ass and that will actually make it easier for you." He explained in a manner that sounded more like a command.

But my knees simply wouldn't part. It wasn't as if I 'knew' this guy. I believed him, but I also believed he was a PERVERT. When I heard him threaten, "Part your knees NOW or I'll call someone in here to hold them apart FOR YOU," my knees snapped apart making the elastic almost cut into my thighs.

"Good girl," he almost crooned as he shifted and I heard him add, "I'm going to let go of your hand. Place it on the floor. If you reach back again I'll have to bind your wrists. We don't want any broken fingers, do we?"

I growled thinking, 'okay the fun is over. Time to leave', but placed my hand on the floor determined to keep it there. 'No, I didn't want any broken fingers'. Then my breath sucked in, in a rush as I felt the paddle connect with my sore bottom and blanched from the loud crack that hadn't completely died away as the next sounded and bit into me. It didn't take him even ten good licks to have me writhing over his thighs. As the paddle landed again and again my feet began to kick out. Soon the biting sting of his fiery rhythm brought my calves up tight to tuck against my thighs and try to protect my vulnerable bottom. By twenty licks I was crying, the tears dripping off my face. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And I was apologizing for something I'd never really done. Another five SMACKS and I began to plead with him to stop.

I don't know why it took so long for my brain to register that he had stopped. I went limp, hiccupping and panting as his hand began to rub. A shiver streaked through me as his fingertips grazed sliding in the slick wet between my lips and I gasped. But his hand moved on rubbing as if he'd touched me by accident as my mind screamed, 'touch me... oh please touch me'. Next thing I knew he'd lifted me, turned me and gathered me into his arms and was dabbing under my eyes with a tissue.

"You've been a very good girl, Meggin. So good in fact, I am going to allow you to choose the final portion of your spanking. Which shall it be? The cross or the bench?" he whispered teasingly in my ear. And with those words he brushed the hair back from my damp temples and holding me tightly in his arms for just a moment before ushering me off his lap.

My mouth fell open. Hands reaching back to rub my blistered bottom I stood gaping at him in disbelief. "Ummm, cross or bench?" I asked. "Are you kidding?" And then I though about how I must look standing in front of him panties around my thighs rubbing my butt under the long shirt tail and I felt like a complete fool. My breath caught as a tear slipped down my cheek as I thought, 'I should be at the beach with my 'kind' spanker'. My mouth closed and my chin dropped.

"Meggin! Is this the way you address the Dean?" he growled the question.

"No, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir... I... I... just forgot for a second," I whined.

"Make your choice."

I looked to the other side of the room. Both contraptions seemed archaic and cruel. The cross had cuffs attached to each corner. The bench didn't look much better with its belt straps. Eyes darting back and forth between them, I glared at both as if the position in which I found myself was their fault. I heard him clear his throat and my decision was simply made. I didn't believe I could stand through whatever was coming. So I whispered, "the bench, Sir".

"A fine choice girl," he said and then added, "Remove your clothes, Meggin."

"But, Sir!" I gasped.

"Remove your clothes!" his direction left no choice as he walked back toward the wall and stood studying the hanging implements at his disposal.

I thought to myself, 'in for a penny, in for a pound' and quickly decided to strip at the bed side rather than waddle with panties at half mast to the back of the room; even if that meant I'd have to walk nude from the bed to the bench. I slipped my panties down and stepped out of them. I unhooked the garters and slipped out of my stockings. Garter belt and then blouse followed panties and stockings all neatly folded in a nice stack at the foot of the bed. I turned my back again and unhooked my bra letting it slip off my arms and folded it before I turned to place it like a cherry on top of the small stack of clothing. I realized that I'd been doing everything 'quickly' tonight, not allowing myself much chance to really think. And I knew why. If I had taken any time to think, I'd have run home feeling like I had a wide yellow streak down my back. So, this was out of character. The fact was, my life was just about as prim and boring as anyone could imagine. That and I really NEEDED tonight. Hard to admit that miss prim 'needed' spanking. The realization came like a lightning bolt, 'sometimes the hardest person to whom you submit, is yourself'.

Heart thundering in my ears and stomach churning like a spin cycle on a washing machine I lifted my chin and walked regally (if I do say so myself) naked as a jay bird to stand at the edge of bench. I fought to keep my arms loosely at my sides when what I really wanted to do was cover my breasts with one arm and cup my shaved mound with my free hand. I felt the gooseflesh rise on my arms, then cascade down my legs. But I stood like a queen head held high awaiting Justin's instructions.

He came to me and held out a flogger, "Hold this while we situate you."

I took the flogger in my hands and was surprised at how soft the many strands were to my touch. I thought it wasn't as soft as chamois, but close, as Justin cupped my waist and guided me to bend way over the thickly padded leather top of the bench. I quickly shifted the flogger to one hand as he bent first one leg and then the other, placing my knees to the outer edge of the kneeling shelf and buckled them into place. The strap he buckled over my back at my waist was only cold for a few seconds, then warmed to the point I really couldn't 'feel' it. I wriggled a bit to test movement... there wasn't any play at all. Low in front of me was a wooden bar for grasping. My hands circled it to grip it tightly. Talk about VULNERABLE! My bottom was way in the air, legs spread wide and I was strapped down like a dead deer on the hood of some pickup truck. I almost giggled as an inner voice cried, "hey! No rack, no balls... uhhh, DOE!" Then I did giggle as I realized I 'did' indeed have a rack!

"So, Meggin, you think this is funny?" he leaned to scowl in my face.

It got even funnier... I couldn't answer him. I did try... but this whole night had been so surrealistic and I was so nervous that I was caught in a fit of giggles. Funny how his holding out his hand and instructing I hand him the flogger ended the giggles instantly. I lifted the flogger up to him but he had to wrench it out of my hand, so tightly did my hand grip it. Darned fingers just wouldn't open.

He walked behind me. The only warning was a soft swish. My legs jerked in the restraints and my head flew up. I'd not have believed that soft thing could leave so many lines of fire if I'd not felt it strike my backside. He raised the flogger back and brought it down with what I knew had to be expertise as it set every inch of my flesh on fire from bottom of tailbone to mid thigh. Over and over the strands stretched out to fan stripes like stinging nettles all over my backside. My body flailed and jerked with each crisscrossing lash. I was still puzzling between lashes about how anything that had felt so soft lying still in my hands could HURT so much on my pore sore derriere. The lashing seemed to rain down forever.

I'd long since ceased to fight hanging limp and accepting as tears flowed. I rallied once, took a deep breath gritting my teeth and was just about to yell out the safe word he'd given me when the lashes changed. He was doing something very different... the flogger was caressing me now.

Oh! Another discovery I'd not have believed unless experienced. The strands of the flogger almost gently wrapped my thighs. Then like many warm fingers the strands fell softly into the separation of my crevice. When Justin changed position and aim the silken fingers curled between my legs gently striking my clitoris. Over and over the tails came down to tease and then caught to slide through my wetness as he pulled them back. Once again he had my body writhing, but this time it was not from pain. The mixture of the heat and sting left behind from the harsh lashes combined with the gentle flicking of my most sensitive places began to drive me into a frenzy. I was so lost in the delightful feeling I whimpered in protest when the lashes stopped and I felt Justin unfastening the binds.

He caught me from behind slipping his hands under my arms and lifted me back against him, steadying me and helping me to stand. I shivered as his hot breath rushed with his whisper into my ear. "I want to give you pleasure now, Meggin. Real pleasure. Will you allow me to pleasure you?"

All I could do was whimper and nod my head back against his neck. Steadying me with one hand he reached to rip the covers down on the bed exposing snow white sheets. He turned me in his arms holding me for a second before laying me down across the center of the bed. His strong hands lifted my legs, placing my heels over his shoulders as he pulled my bottom right to the edge of the bed. When he looked into my eyes there was such tenderness there I had to close mine lest I cry.

His hands slipped to cup the backs of my knees as he pushed my knees back to rest at the outside of my breasts. Then. Oh, God, then he lowered his head between my legs and I felt the tip of his tongue sliding between my lips. My back arched, head grinding back into the bed as the tip of his tongue began to slowly circle my clit after dipping repeatedly into my fountain. I felt my hands clawing at the sheets twisting them as I gripped tightly while holding my breath. Eyes closed I absorbed the exquisite pleasure his tongue was giving. When he instructed me to grip my knees and hold myself open for him my hands slipped to do his bidding. His mumbled words about how sweet I tasted, how good this was, sent streaks of electricity to zap my nipples and race shooting to my core. I didn't want him to ever stop.

It felt like I was drifting in a sea of heat that pulled me down into it and at the same time lifted me up higher and higher. I had no thoughts other than the intense reaction of my flesh under his tongue. Each sensation rivaled the next as my mind locked on the intensity and depth of the feelings. Justin's tongue was making me crazy. I heard a deep low sound growing in strength and was surprised by the sound of my own growling. My hands gripped the backs of my knees and pulled them further back and apart, unable to get myself open enough for this man as his tongue lazily circled my throbbing clit and two fingers slipped stroking in the slick wetness of my vagina. I could feel inner muscles contracting trying to hold his fingers deep wanting the wonderful feeling of them sliding along my inner walls, not to stop.