Bethany's Troll

"No, we didn't spank their bottoms at all; he tawse was administered to the hand. In fact, I rarely used it. I considered it a failure on my part if I had to. Discipline is about the registration of personality, of leadership; resort to the tawse was a proof of failure. 90% of the time it was simply a question of sliding it out of the sleeve, laying it over the shoulder and looking fierce," he said.

"Yes, I can picture you like that."

"No need to picture me, come into the box room and I'll show you. I store a lot of my old stuff there."

The box room turned out to be the unused second bedroom, with packing boxes piled around the edges.

"Come in and let me get behind the door," he said.

She passed him, and he closed the door, off the back of which he took his academic garb and slipped into it. He unhooked the tawse and laid it over his shoulders.

"Here you are, the registration of personality," he said, and drew himself up and hardened his face.

The effect shocked Bethany, because she recognised that expression, it was the face of her Troll. She recoiled backwards, but the bed was behind her and she tripped on it and fell backwards onto the mattress, her skirt riding up.

Her heart raced. She felt embarrassed but threatened. Why she did it she did not know, but rather than snap her legs modestly together, she lay back and spread them, as she did when her Troll came for her, exposing her inner thighs, her decency barely preserved by her narrow gusset. She stared at Hunter, and he stared at her thighs, at the thin white gusset. She glanced at the front of his trousers which was now definitely in motion, and, when she looked back at his face, his nostrils were flared, as he sucked in air in deep, rapid breaths. His lips were apart, and his wet, shiny tongue licked the corner of his mouth. His look was predatory and savage, and, in fear, Bethany flattened herself against the mattress, legs parted in invitation, and froze.

Hunter took one step towards her and was bending over her, snorting and grunting, consuming her body with his eyes. Then his right arm shot out, and seizing her knickers, with a jerk ripped that frail defence away. Bethany whimpered, and in an attempt to appease this beast, she raised her hips and offered her vagina. Hunter let out an inarticulate cry and clawed at his flies. His dribbling erection sprang out and towards Bethany. It was a huge and angry, gnarly and vividly coloured, champing at the bit, ready for battle. He knelt on the edge of the bed, seized the offered hips with both hands and jerked her forward onto his erection, impaling her instantly, forcing himself straight through her salivating vagina to butt up against her cervix, pinioning her to the bed.

Bethany nearly fainted.

Then, in an uncontrolled assault, he began to pound against her, harder and harder, seeking to drive his penis further into her. Unsatisfied, he shifted his body directly over her and with groans of effort he began to throw his body down on hers, knocking the breath out of her, both of them bouncing off the bed in recoil. Like a swing gaining height with each oscillation, his thrusts gained energy with each bounce. Eventually she felt like the ground beneath rods of lightning striking to earth, throwing her helplessly around except where she was pinned to Hunter, at the hips. She threw her legs around his and hung on, her torso and arms flailing like a rodeo rider on a steer. And still he kept attacking - and she abandoned herself to her fate.

How long it continued she could not be sure, she was transported somewhere else, somewhere delightful. But, eventually, he slowed; he seized her in his arms, and pulled her to him crushing her, trying to drive his hips through hers. He cried out, agonised screams, one, two, three four, five - and on the fifth cry she screamed also. She threw her arms around him and they clung so tight to one another, it was if they were trying to merge into each others bodies. Their last, longest, most agonised cry faded slowly into desperate pants, as they both sought to replenish the oxygen they had exhausted. Their postural muscles were at the end of their endurance, and the pair relaxed, Hunter collapsing down upon and subsiding over Bethany. She lacked the energy to move, and lay under him, snatching breaths as best she could. Lying there, she could feel the tremendous body heat generated between them, and the rivulets of sweat formed from the beads glistening on their bodies, trickling down towards the mattress.

Chapter 9.

Goodbye Masturbation.

Hunter spoke first. "I'm so terribly sorry. I've been celibate for so long, I completely lost control. It won't be like this every time."

"Oh. Really. But I'm sure it could be; I mean, if you tried," breathed Bethany.

Hunter rolled onto the bed beside her, and after they had regained their breath said, "Well, I'd better get you home for dinner."

"Forget dinner," snapped Bethany,"Mum won't be feeding the monster tonight. I can call and tell her I'm staying over with a friend," adding cautiously, "but, can we get into trouble for this, with the Human Resources and Pastoral Care Committee. I mean, is it inappropriate?"

"Oh no," Hunter assured her, "the Committee approved it; It was Mrs Cooper's suggestion."

"What!"

"She thought it would be a good way to kill two birds with one stone. The Committee was worried about you because you were distracted, and me, because I was single and with an uncertain history. They thought we could feed each others monsters and allay their concerns."

Bethany exploded. "That's shocking; that's so intrusive!".

"So, what do you want to do?" asked Hunter, his tone and face turning stern once again.

Bethany glanced down, to see his penis was fit, angry and straining towards her once more. She reached, took hold of it, and pulled him towards her.

After three in the morning, the pair finally slumped against one another and fell into an exhausted sleep. Early on Saturday afternoon they awoke, and having provoked Hunter into one more onslaught, Bethany took a shower. When she emerged, wrapped in a towel, Hunter had made coffee and waited in his bathrobe.

"When will we do this again?" asked Bethany.

"Wednesdays and Saturdays, in term time," said Hunter.

"But I, my need is every day," stuttered Bethany.

"Don't forget your toys," said Hunter, "Feed the monster three times a day, now let's find something for you to wear," he led her to the wardrobe in the box room, there, there hung a rack of brightly coloured schoolgirls' uniforms.

"I always kept some spare uniforms in case my tutees should need one," he remarked.

"But ...But ..,But.. you taught at a BOYS' school."

"Yes, and I did a lot of private tuition. I had a reputation. Parents would send me their difficult girls for coaching. I was very successful; I knew how to relate to the wayward girls. The first step was always to get them back into school uniform and have them address me as 'Sir'. That returned them psychologically to a disciplined environment and established that I was in charge, a necessary precondition for structured education. I'd like to take you under my wing and help develop your career; would you like that?"

"Of course I wouldn't refuse your help."

"Sir," prompted Hunter.

"Of course I wouldn't refuse your help, Sir."

He reached into the wardrobe and took down a uniform.

"Here, I have one which should suit you."

He held, a brand new school uniform up against her, "I bought it for you; I think you'll find it's a perfect fit."

Bethany could see it was her size.

"And," he continued, "because you're an adult now, you can wear your skirt six inches above your knee, just to the bottom of your stocking tops, and, you can wear high heels, like the wayward girls. Would you like to try it on and I'll take you for a walk in the park so I can see how you behave."

"Yes, I'd like that. And I'll be a very well behaved girl, Sir," said Bethany.

"Yes, I'm sure you have the best intentions, but in my experience wayward girls find it difficult to behave in a seemly manner for very long."

Unsure of what Hunter planned to do in the park, Bethany asked, "There are no school knickers. Will it be more convenient for you if I don't wear knickers to the park, Sir?"

Hunter fixed her with a steely stare, "Now, that's quite enough, if you carry on with that attitude I'll certainly lay you over my knee and properly tan your backside when we get home."

"Really! I've never been spanked properly before. I'm not going to wear any knickers and I think I'm going to be very naughty in the park, Sir."

THE END.