My Friend Sophie Ch. 02

Reluctantly, Sophie fumbled under her skirt. She wriggled her knickers down her legs. They caught on her shoes. She stumbled a little as she disentangled them. She screwed them into a ball and passed them to me. In my hand I could feel that they were warm from her body. I was almost fainting with excitement as I placed the knickers on the Headmaster's desk. Sophie straightened her skirt, under which she was now naked.

Paul seemed to be thinking deeply. "Sophie," he said eventually, "you clearly need to be disciplined, as a matter of some urgency. I am not confident that the usual, rather drawn-out process will serve our present purpose."

"Sir?" she said.

"I propose to administer a summary punishment here and now, before we go any further."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"Corporal punishment, Sophie. Physical discipline. I am enough of a traditionalist to believe that some old-fashioned ways still have their place."

Sophie did a very good job of appearing frightened. "But Sir ... Sir ... surely you don't mean you're going to ...?"

"Spank you, yes Sophie. On your bottom. And it will serve as training for Miss Price, too. It will be the first time she has been involved in a sanction of this nature. Bend over the desk, Sophie."

She seemed almost to be genuinely crying. For a second I wondered if we were going too far, too fast. But no, she was just a very good actor.

"Sir ... please ... you know I'm not wearing any knickers. My bottom's bare under here."

"Yes, Sophie, we are fully aware of that, and you have only yourself to blame for coming to school in underwear better suited to a lap dancing club or brothel than a prestigious educational establishment. Bend over the desk."

She stepped up to the table and bent over it with her arms stretched out in front of her and her face down. Her breasts were squashed against the table top. She straightened her legs and set her weight back on her heels so as to push her bottom out. Her posture managed to combine sexual provocation with meek subjugation.

"Miss Price," said Paul, "please lift Sophie's skirt."

The Grand Ceremonial Unveiling of Sophie Booth's Naked Arse. I lifted her skirt right up and flipped it over so it rested on the small of her back. Her glorious round buttocks were completely exposed. I stepped back, Paul stepped forward.

"Sophie, I will begin the punishment but I will ask Miss Price to take over at some stage."

And Paul began to spank Sophie. Now, he'd done this to me plenty of times so he knew what he was doing. Sharp slaps at a steady rhythm, on the fleshiest part of the buttock. They sounded loud, and I knew they would sting. Sophie was whimpering; her body seemed tense. The skin of her bum began to redden. Paul speeded up, and increased the strength of his blows, very slightly. I could see that Sophie was subtly pushing her bum out towards us, seeking the spanking. A cat on heat. Paul paused.

"Miss Price, I would like you to continue the punishment." he said. "You have seen the correct method, as I have just demonstrated."

Well, this was it. The first time in my life that I would touch another woman sexually. And I would do it by smacking her on the arse. Again, I was used to spanking Paul's lean, taut male buttocks, but the soft fullness of Sophie's bum was something new to me. I took up my position, breathed deeply and aimed a first, firm slap. Sophie whimpered gratifyingly. The feel of her smooth naked skin, the slight give of her flesh under my hand - these were new, exciting sensations for me. Gaining in confidence, I spanked faster and harder. Sophie writhed under the bombardment, whining and whimpering softly, "Miss Price ... please ... I'm sorry ... please ..."

I gave her about as long as I normally give Paul. When I stopped, Paul said, "Excellent, Miss Price, you did that quite correctly. Sophie, stay where you are for a moment but please move your feet so that they are about hip width apart." She obeyed. Paul stood behind her and looked down at her. "Miss Price," he said, "Take a look at this. Would you agree that Sophie has become sexually aroused in response to our spanking?"

We made great play of bending low and scrutinising her pussy from behind. Paul was right, of course. Her labia were beginning to swell and there was a glisten of moistness on them.

"Interesting, Headmaster," I said. I don't think we've seen a response like this since Katie Bishop, a couple of years ago."

"Indeed, Miss Price. Well, it certainly leads us to what, in any event, was the next item on the agenda. Sophie, stand up and face us, please."

Sophie stood up. Her face was red, and her shirt had become crumpled by being pressed against the table. She straightened her skirt as best she could.

"Can I go now, please Sir?"

"Absolutely not, Sophie," said Paul, "that was just the punishment element of our meeting. There is some educational material to cover, too."

"Educational, Sir?"

"Yes, Sophie. When you decided not to attend classes yesterday you missed the compulsory Advanced Sex Education lesson for final-year students. It is a legal requirement for all students in your year to attend. You will therefore now have what is in fact a privilege, as Miss Price and I go over the content with you individually."

(Yes, yes, I know. It was a pretty clumsy plot device. But the purpose was just to move us from one bit of sexual activity to the other while staying more or less within the roleplay scenario, right? What did you expect, Chekhov?)

"What do you mean, Sir?" asked Sophie.

I replied. "Sophie, do you know what an erogenous zone is?"

"Er ... isn't it something to do with earthquakes or volcanoes, Miss?"

For a second we all worked hard to stop ourselves from laughing. "No Sophie," I said, "or at least only in a very figurative sense. An erogenous zone is a part of your body which is susceptible to sexual stimulation. We've just seen an example of this, haven't we?"

"I don't know what you mean, Miss."

"When the Headmaster and I spanked your bottom, you became sexually aroused, didn't you, Sophie?"

"Miss?"

"Turned on, Sophie. Horny. It was clear when we looked at you."

Sophie looked down in embarrassment, saying nothing. Paul intervened. "Sophie, do you know some other erogenous zones in the adult female?"

"Don't know, Sir." (Sullen, uncooperative.)

"I think you do, Sophie. Let's have a demonstration, shall we? Please take off your shirt and your bra."

She looked shocked. "But Sir! That ... that would mean you would see my breasts!"

"It's all right, Sophie, Miss Price is here to make sure that nothing untoward happens."

"But Sir! Pleeeeease!!"

I interjected, speaking gently and solicitously. Her chaperone, with her well-being at heart. "Sophie, would you feel more comfortable if I were to remove my own blouse and bra first, so that my breasts are exposed? If I were to do that, would you be prepared to expose your own breasts? Sophie?"

"I ... I suppose so, Miss."

"What an excellent idea, Miss Price!" Paul beamed.

.

I could actually hear the rush of my own blood in my veins as I unbuttoned my blouse, took it off and placed it on the arm of the sofa. I took off my bra, laid it on top of the blouse. I stood straight, with my shoulders back and arms by my sides, my breasts naked. Now, if I say so myself, I've got pretty good tits. I like them, and so does everyone I've ever shown them to. My bra size, as I think I have mentioned before, is 34E. They are natural, full and heavy. The fact that the rest of me is rather slight emphasises them. My nipples are wide and flat when at rest, but when erect - as they were now - they pucker into prominent pink points.

"Thank you, Miss Price," said Paul, calmly. "Now, Sophie, please would you do likewise?"

"Yes Sir," she said, meekly. She unbuttoned her shirt, took it off and handed it to me. I placed it on the pile of my own clothes. She was wearing a pretty white lacy bra. She unclipped that, and gave it to me. It was warm in my hand, as her knickers had been. The tie stayed on, hanging untidily into her cleavage. She stood up straight, hands by her sides.

Sophie had previously made it clear that it was a huge turn-on for her to have a lot of attention paid to her breasts, even in ways that might seem embarrassing or humiliating. As I said in the first part of the story, they are, quite frankly, massive. I did not get a look at the label when she passed me her bra, but I'm guessing that she is a good two cup sizes up from me, with a bigger back size. So, let's say, if I'm 34E she's probably 36G. They look right - to say the least! - because her broader shoulders and ribcage (compared to me) mean she carries them high and prominently, and they are very full and firm. Nature has been kind to our Sophie, no doubt about that.

"Thank you, Sophie," said Paul. "You really do have remarkably large breasts, don't you? Doesn't she, Miss Price? It's rare we see a student with breasts the size of Sophie's."

"True, Headmaster. I think Sophie is even better endowed than Sandra Baxter."

"Whatever happened to Sandra, Miss Price?"

"She went to work for an adult cable channel, Headmaster. Doing rather well, I believe."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Sophie, that might be a career option for you, of course."

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir," said Sophie, meekly.

I put on my concerned voice again. "Sophie, I know what it's like to have a large bust. Do you find it makes your back ache?"

"Sometimes, Miss, thank you, but my Mum makes sure she buys me good quality bras. She's got really big ones too, so she understands."

"That's good, Sophie. And do you find that other girls in the school get envious of your breasts, or perhaps even tease you about them?"

"Yes, Miss," said Sophie. "They call me things like 'Melons' or 'Booby Bird'. When we get changed for games, some of them still really stare at me. Tracey Williams keeps asking me if they're real, and trying to touch them to make sure. Just because she's flat chested. It's not fair, Miss."

"Well, Sophie, I shall have a word with Tracey about that, it's certainly not acceptable behaviour. Although I understand why she would be so obsessed with your breasts, Sophie, as her own are so tiny. In the meantime perhaps you should see it as a misguided compliment."

"Yes Miss, thank you Miss."

I could see a bulge in Paul's trousers. He was clearly enjoying the spectacle of two big-titted woman, both topless, talking about their breasts. And God knows, I was loving being one of those women. But it was time to move the plot on a little. "Headmaster," I said, "should we proceed with the demonstration about erogenous zones?"

"Indeed, Miss Price," said Paul. He walked over to Sophie and, with one hand, very very gently brushed the backs of his fingers over each of her breasts in turn. Suddenly, I was watching Paul touch another woman sexually. What a complex situation. And what a simple response it engendered in me: I fucking loved it. I saw Sophie give a little shudder of pleasure, exactly as I do when Paul touches me like that. The little pink buds of her nipples puckered.

"How does that feel, Sophie?" asked Paul.

"Really nice, sir. Really sexy. My nipples are getting hard, Sir."

"And does it feel nice anywhere else apart from in your breasts, Sophie?"

"Yes Sir," she looked down, "you know ... down there ..."

"Exactly, Sophie. That means your breasts are erogenous zones." He carried on stroking her. "If I stimulate them, you become sexually aroused. I am not actually touching your genitals at the moment, but I am confident that your vagina is becoming wet with lubricating secretions. Am I right?"

"Yes Sir."

"I think it will be interesting to see whether it is only the male touch that you respond to. The diversity of human sexuality is a core topic for the lesson in question. Miss Price, would you help to investigate, please?"

Very lightly, I too stroked Sophie's breasts. She caught her breath and half closed her eyes. Both Paul and I were stroking her. "Are you getting even wetter, Sophie?" I said. She nodded wordlessly. Paul licked his fingertips and very gently tweaked one of her nipples. I did likewise. She let out a tiny moan. Emboldened, I took the weight of one of her breasts in my hand as I continued to rub her nipple with my moistened thumb. I have very small hands, and her breast seemed enormous as it rested there.

Paul spoke very softly. "You are obviously responsive to the touch of either a man or a woman, Sophie. That is very positive. You will be glad of this in later life."

"Yes Sir," she whispered. "Thank you Sir. Thank you Miss Price."

Paul bent his head to her breast, lifted it to his mouth and began to suck. Sophie moaned more loudly. Without even thinking, I followed suit and took her other breast into my mouth. I felt with my tongue the tight nub of her nipple, the slight roughness of the areola. The flesh of her tit filled my mouth. She let out a sob of pleasure as both Paul and I sucked, steadily. I was insanely aroused by now. I could feel that my knickers were saturated in cunt juice, to a point where it felt quite uncomfortable. But it would be a little while yet before I could take them off. I sucked harder. Sophie sobbed more loudly. Then both Paul and I pulled away. Our saliva glistened on her tits.

"Sophie," said Paul, "do you like touching your own breasts?"

"Yes sir. It feels nice." Her eyes had a glazed look, drugged by her own arousal.

I said, "Sophie, do you touch your genitals as well? Do you masturbate?"

"Miss, do I have to say? Will it get me into trouble?"

"Sophie, just answer the question, please."

"Yes Miss. I touch myself a lot. Every day, really. But I'm worried because Mrs Johnson in Religious Studies says it's very bad to masturbate. I'm frightened something bad will happen to me."

"Sophie," I said, "Mrs Johnson has your best interests at heart but she has some rather old-fashioned beliefs. As far as I am concerned, it is entirely natural and healthy for a young woman with a powerful sex drive to masturbate regularly. Much better than suppressing your urges. As long as it is done in private. In private, Sophie."

Sophie looked down guiltily. Paul spoke. "I think what Miss Price means, Sophie, is that it is not acceptable to touch yourself under your desk during lessons. Or to hand in homework with damp fingerprints on it. Do you know what I am talking about, Sophie?"

She said nothing.

"Or," Paul continued, "to take boys behind the gym block at break times and give them displays of masturbation in exchange for money. What do you have to say about that, Sophie?"

"I ... I'm sorry, Sir," she whispered.

"Oh dear, Sophie," I said, "you know what this means, don't you?"

"Yes, Miss. Oh no, Miss ...."

I took her firmly by the wrist and led her back to the table. "Bend over again, Sophie!" She did. This time, of course, her breasts were naked as she pressed them down onto the table. I flipped her skirt up again. It was not very straightforward for Paul and me to both spank her at the same time as we are both right-handed. Paul, gentleman that he is, went on the "wrong" side. We rained a short and really pretty forceful salvo of blows onto her arse, which was blushing a deep red. She whined and sobbed, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I know I'm a bad girl but I can't help it! I need to touch myself all the time! Pleeeeeease! Sir!"

We relented. She stood up, straightened her skirt, and faced us, flushed and sweating. For a moment all was silent - were we running out of steam? Then Paul spoke.

"Sophie, I would like you to show us how you masturbate, please."

"Sir, do I really have to?"

"Yes, Sophie, you do. It is important that we monitor the physical and sexual wellbeing of our students, and part of this is continuing to monitor your sexual responsiveness."

(Nonsense, of course, but see my previous comment about Chekhov.)

"Can I sit down to do it, Sir?"

I grabbed one of the towels that I had placed in readiness earlier on, and spread it out on the sofa. Sophie pulled her skirt up round her waist, sat on the towel and, well, spread herself out on the sofa. She sat back and pulled her legs apart and up, flexing at the knees, into something like a birthing position. Her cunt was a slick pink gash against her smooth white skin. The curves of her breasts, belly, thighs and crotch interlinked with a wonderful geometry. She put me in mind of some ancient fertility goddess. The Venus of West London. She began to rub her clit with one hand, and tweak at a nipple with another.

"Well, Miss Price," said Paul thoughtfully, "Sophie certainly seems very much at ease with her own body and her own sexual instincts, don't you think?"

"Yes, Headmaster," I replied. "I only wish all of our senior girls were this attuned to their deepest needs, it would make them far more healthy and relaxed. If I may make a suggestion, Headmaster?"

"Of course, Miss Price."

"I'd like Sophie to teach other girls how to masturbate, how to release sexual tension, for those that are more inhibited. I feel she could be a great help."

"What an excellent suggestion, Miss Price. Sophie, would you be prepared to do that?"

Sophie was breathing heavily now, only able to speak between gasps. "If ... if that's what you want, Sir ... yes, Sir."

Paul took it to another level. "Sophie, I'm just going to test your arousal with my finger. I'll be quite gentle." He reached down. As I watched, he pushed his middle finger inside Sophie. She whined, and tugged at her nipples. "Very healthy indeed." pronounced Paul sagely. "Labia engorged. Abundant lubrication. Miss Price, would you like to feel for yourself?"

So, a few moments after I had seen my husband put his finger up another woman's cunt, I was about to do the same. Quite an afternoon. My small middle finger slipped into her tight wet hole very easily. So, so strange how the inside of a vagina - such as I feel with that same finger on a very frequent basis - could feel so alien as well as familiar. I kept my hand there. "Yes, Headmaster," I said, "Sophie is clearly very responsive."

Paul said, "Sophie, what do you think about when you masturbate?"

Her voice was thick and hoarse as she replied, just about getting the words out between gasped breaths. "I ... I think about cocks, Sir."

"Cocks, eh Sophie? And what do you imagine doing with these cocks, as you call them, in your masturbatory daydreams?"

"Touching them, Sir ... and sucking them ... and letting men put their cocks inside me, Sir, like Miss Price's finger is now ... Emma Newman says she'd like one up her bottom but I think that would hurt, Sir ..."

"Have you ever seen or touched a man's penis, or cock, rather, in real life?"

"No Sir ... that's why I bought the toy ... Emma and Hannah and I were going to practise with it, Sir ..."

"I see. Well perhaps it is time you saw what you have been imagining. By way of education." Paul was unzipping his flies.

Now, as this is a pornographic story, and I have already dwelt at some length (so to speak) on the size of Sophie's and my breasts, I suppose it is incumbent on me to mention the size of Paul's penis. Cock size is not something that matters too much to me, I must say. But one day, just for a laugh, we did try to measure Paul's erection. It's rather difficult to do with any precision, as we found. But we eventually agreed that it was probably around seven and a half inches long. It is also thick - nearly as thick as my very slim wrist - unhelpful, I know. We were measuring with a metal tape so couldn't do the circumference. It's very straight and juts out at just above right angles to his body. I love it, of course, and to be honest I don't think I'd want him to be much bigger. When I read about guys with nine inch pricks I just wince. Oh, and just to complete the picture, Paul does not trim or shave his body hair in any way. Neither he nor I sees the attraction of the hairless look in men.