tagNonConsent/ReluctanceSwat on a Hot Teen Youth Ch. 09

Swat on a Hot Teen Youth Ch. 09


Chapter 9. An Educational Experience

Ashley's expression was concentrated, her lips pursed and her smooth rounded brow furrowed as sat at the laptop on the small desk in her room. Her best friend from high school, Diana was on IM, where she went by the nickname fabulous D, which was appropriate as it described a measurement for which she was quite popular with the boys back home. Instant messaging one another was as close as was possible, now that Ashley was so far away, to the kinds of continuous confidences that they were accustomed to exchanging throughout the day at school. Ashley and Diana had been friends for years, and Ashley looked up to her slightly older, but far more outspoken, friend.

Ashley was torn between wanting to tell her friend of the embarrassing situations that had occurred in the last several weeks, of the humiliating punishments she'd endured, and of her nascent crush on her good-looking young cousin. At the same time as her shame impelled her to be reticent, there was a seed of excitement deep down within her at how she was being used sexually, and a part of her yearned to impress her more adventurous friend. Diana had always been the leader, the one who had more experience and sought excitement, laughing at Ashley's schoolgirl crushes and her prudish approach to sex.

She'd spent the better part of an hour instant messaging with Diana this evening, and had exhausted her lore of British sights, shopping tales, and complaints about the weather. She'd begun dropping slight hints about what she'd been undergoing. She'd started explaining how her Uncle was "very strict" and how he objected to her American ways and was setting about making her into his idea of a "proper" young lady. She circled the subject delicately for quite awhile, but Diana kept digging to try to better comprehend Ashley's vague hints. Without meaning to, Ashley mentioned the word "punishments," and, though the chat window couldn't convey her friends' expression, the eagerness of her typed response caused Ashley to see in her mind Diana's eager curious expression and wide-eyed reaction.

D: What???? What like you mean you get grounded or something?

A: No... not really. I mean, they're British, you know... It's kinda weird. I don't want to talk about it.

D: What do you mean, "they're British"? They lock you in a dungeon or something, chica?

A: No, of course not. NO, it's, forget it.

D: Spill it, Ashes.... We don't keep secrets from each other, remember?

A: Damn. OK, when something happens that my Uncle doesn't like he punishes me... Sometimes Ralph is there too... and, some of his friends once too.

D: What?!?

A: They're a bunch of old pervs, D! I can't even start to explain! If, like my clothes aren't right or straight or something, or Uncle thinks that what I'm wearing is too revealing, he'll order me to stand there and lecture me. Usually, this means that I'll have to take off my shirt or skirt, and then he'll have me standing in some uncomfortable position in my underwear. He'll do it really slowly, making me take off one piece of clothing at a time. Sometimes he says the most embarrassing personal things about my body as he makes me undress. And sometimes other people are there too! You can't believe how humiliating it is. Having to take off my clothes in front of a bunch of old guys who are leering at me and staring at my naked boobs.

And...they won't keep their hands off me, either! Once my clothes start to come off, and especially when they order me to take off my bra or pull down my panties, they just touch me however they like as much as they like.

D: Ashley, what? You mean they feel you up while you're standing naked in front of them?

A: Yes, but the ogling and copping feels of my body isn't the worst part, the worst is the spankings. You'd think these guys thought that a girl's behind had a target painted on it, the way they slap my poor butt. God it stings and it's sooo embarrassing; my own Uncle smacking my bottom like I was a little girl. No, not like a little girl, cause he and his friends make good and sure to fondle my tits while their big paws are smacking my reddened butt. They're like....they do anything they like to my body and I have to let them grope me till I'm sore

D: Are you shitting me, Ashley? You're saying you're getting naked with a bunch of old farts and your own cousin?

A: NO! I'm not getting naked with them! They make me... they strip me and...

D: Wait, are they fucking you?

A: OF course not. It's not like I'm being raped or anything. They're just doing it to make me ashamed so my behavior will improve. You know, my Uncle doesn't even seem to enjoy my punishments, not like his friends; he's always so stern. He's actually pretty patient, but he's definitely strong willed. But, my cousin Ralph likes to see me like that. I sure can tell that. I can see he's hard half the time I'm being punished, and he fondles my body a lot! But you know, I kinda like the feeling I get when he does it; it's really exciting and almost makes the pain worthwhile. He sometimes whispers really erotic things to me.

D: Wow, head trip. I can't imagine this. You sure you're ok?

A: Yeah, I guess I am. It's no SO bad. And you know, when I'm good, it's great. I get to go shopping and my Uncle is really interesting and even warm when he's not mad. Besides, nothing has happened like that in a couple of weeks. I think I'm learning how to dress and behave more properly, so I don't even think this is a problem anymore. Anyway, D, I gotta go. Uncle told me he was having a guest and would need my help, and I do NOT want to be late with my chores!

D: OK, wow, I want to hear more later. Keep your clothes on girl! Bye

A: Bye.

She rose from her desk and stretched. The clock on the desk said she had 5 minutes still before she needed to go down to the kitchen and bring lunch to her Uncle who was spending the morning in his study writing, as usual. The routine over the last couple of weeks had been steady, and Ashley was confident that she would be able to do her chores satisfactorily. She went into the bathroom and tidied herself up so her appearance was sure not to be a cause for her Uncle to be displeased with her. She brushed her teeth, smiled at herself and was pleased with the wide, gleaming, white toothed smile in the mirror.

She tidied her dress, a soft edged, billowing, sheer blue flower patterned shift she'd chosen with her Uncle. The peasant bodice ruffled loosely at her chest, then had a babydoll flare down to a soft-hemmed edge which reached Ashley high on her thigh. Her shapely legs were naked and she stepped into a pair of fashionable red cloth Converses, the red contrasting with the white border of the rubber soles. Looking at herself in the mirror, the young lady pirouetted vainly, the dress flaring and billowing out around her.

Making her way down the stairs to the kitchen, she passed her Uncle's study. She knocked timidly on the half open door, and entered when he beckoned her in. Pale sunlight filtered in the large window behind her Uncle, diffused by the diaphanous, gauzy curtains. Edward sat at a large oak desk, a pile of books piled on one side, and a pen in his hand.

"Ashley," he intoned, not unkindly, "You'll find nuts and olives in the refrigerator. You will serve them to me and my guest at the table. Oh... and bring out the chilled Maçon-Villages. The professor appreciates a good Burgundy.

"Yes, Uncle," answered the girl as she made her way to the kitchen obediently.


Not many minutes later, outside the imposing house, a tall, paunchy, white haired, balding, 70-year old arranged his coat's fur collar fastidiously, before reaching out for the bell-pull. The sound of a chime resounded through the house, and after a moment, the door was opened by Ashley.

Professor Marquist took a moment to acquaint himself with the subject of the elaborate preparations he had arranged with the girl's Uncle over the last few weeks.

"Yes," he thought with a self-satisfied smile, which did not however register overtly on his face, "she will be perfect." His unwavering gaze travelled unfettered over the girl's pretty face and big hazel eyes, her full lips and wide mouth, down over the lines of the flowing dress to take in the generous curvature of her chest, and her long, bare legs. Ashley, embarrassed, let her gaze drop and her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

"Good morning, young lady!" Marquist said, his tone practiced from more than forty years of dealing with schoolchildren, "I am Professor Marquist. I believe you should be inviting me inside, should you not?"

"Of course, sir, I'm sorry. Please do come in," Ashley responded, hastily. Marquist entered into the foyer, and turning his back to the girl, loosened and cast back his black, fur trimmed, overcoat. Ashley was just quick enough to reach up and take it from the tall old man. Looking nervously about, she lifted the heavy coat onto an empty curved crook on the free-standing coat-rack next to her.

"Please come inside," repeated the girl. Marquist motioned for her to precede him, and as she walked in front of him he let her get a slight distance ahead so he had a better vantage point of her. "Ah, what a delightful swell this one has to her arse!" he thought, "It looks prominent but not too large, no, this girl has a nice meaty posterior, but trim. She is top-heavy, shall we say? And such nice, lean, schoolgirl legs. She will look delightful naked and that creamy skin will feel magnificent in my hands. Now, patience, old bean," he admonished himself, "there'll be time."

Edward had descended the staircase and met his guest at the entrance to the parlor. Ashley left them exchanging greetings as she went to make final preparations. The two men made their way into the sitting room, and Ashley entered the kitchen and continued laying out the bowls of hôrs d'ouvres she was to bring out. She found the bottle of white wine in the refrigerator, and, not familiar with how to open the bottle, took it in and a pair of glasses her Uncle and his guest.

The older man, she observed, was comfortably ensconced in a deep armchair, while her Uncle leaned against the mantle over the fireplace speaking to him. She noticed that her Uncle seemed to treat the tall Professor with a degree of deference, whether due to his status or age, she couldn't tell.

Marquist observed delightedly the entrance of the young girl into the room. He calmed himself, staring at her as she stood holding out the bottle of white wine and the glasses. She looked so appetizing, pink and healthy, and that mane of dark hair, so glossy and smooth! As she turned from him to proffer the bottle to her uncle, Marquist's expert gaze ascertained through her flimsy, short dress, the shape of the girl's panties. He decided they were white lace slightly square cut, covering the top of her bottom with a dip in the waist creating an slight V, and ending in a square bottom, covering the girl's nether cheeks but leaving the outer crescent of her backside uncovered. Taut, tanned thighs, a long curve of haunch, and perfect dimpled knees, trim calves and small feet in those scandalous red sneakers. Well, the sneakers would come in useful, observed the old man to himself.

Ashley kept her eyes downcast, but even though she dared not look at the older man, except for a quick, scared glance at his amused but steely expression, she could feel his eyes roam over her face and body as she waited to serve him obediently. Silently, she shuddered at what he must be seeing! Her dress was short and filmy and the provocative curves of her body would be clearly visible through it. As, she gasped to realized, probably the shape of her underwear. What only moments before had been a cause for vanity as she prepared herself for the "guests" now caused her the most hot embarrassment. "Darn!" she though to herself, "I shouldn't have worn this outfit!" She knew though that to have disobeyed her Uncle's explicit instructions on what to wear for this occasion would have probably been enough excuse for him to do something much worse. He could well have ordered her to remove her clothing while he, or worse, he and the Professor, watched her.

Edward strode over to the distracted and flushed girl and took the bottle from her hand. With an indication of his head towards the professor, he sent Ashley to offer him a glass. Edward expertly extracted the cork from the bottle and handed it back to Ashley. She walked demurely over to the professor and stood before him, dutifully proffering the chilled wine. Marquist glanced up at the bottle, his demeanor dismissive and haughty. The dewdrops of condensation on the cold glass made him muse to himself for a moment, "now, how shall I go about bringing similar teardrops from this nubile foal?" A smile flitted across his face, as his gaze swept from the bottle towards the young lady serving him. He lifted his glass. The girl took it. She didn't want to spill a drop, which would have been another occasion for being punished, and concentration furrowed her smooth, rounded, brow as she let a stream of pale yellow wine cascade into the gentleman's glass.

She didn't really follow the conversation between the two men, but made sure to keep their glasses full, while they talked of education, or so it mostly seemed to her. She circulated small plates of nuts and olives, as well as dainty finger-sandwiches of cheese and cucumber to the two gentlemen, and observed Marquist's color heightening with the wine. Once, as she bent low to offer a platter to the aging professor, she couldn't help notice his cold glance fix itself on the naked expanse of her shoulders and upper chest, bared by the sleeves of her peasant blue dress. Although the swell of her breasts was evident, at least, she thought to herself, the top edge of the front was snug to her body and covered her chest demurely. "The old goat won't get much of a view!" she thought. Her observation would turn out to be about as incorrect as possible, for Marquist had plans which would shortly lead to him viewing every last detail of Ashley's young body.

Ashley straightened up as Marquist took a pensive bite of the small sandwich he'd taken. Before she could turn away from him, he addressed her imperiously,

"Young lady, please put down that tray. I should like to interrogate you on the form and content of your education.

"Yes, that's right, put down the tray and put your hands at your side. Don't fidget, girl! Now, I should like to know what form you're in."

"Sir?" stammered Ashley, "I don't understand what you mean by form."

"Don't be stupid, girl, how far along are you in your schooling? How many years do you have before you go to University, though Lord knows," he muttered, "you certainly look more mature than your infantile behavior indicates."

"I'm a senior next year, Sir," explained Ashley, "In the US this means that I have one more year, and then I will go to college, which is...like..." she felt herself explaining lamely, "university, but not necessarily ...umm..."

"Yes, yes." Marquist interrupted impatiently, and continued his questioning regarding her schooling. Ashley did her best to respond to his questions on the curriculum she'd studied, how many subjects, how many hours, all sorts of things. She seemed unable to please him with her answers; his manner indicated he found her answers unsatisfactory and her education, by extension lacking.

After some time of this, he interrupted his questioning and addressed Edward, "You know, Edward, old chap, the kind of lax environment in which your charge has grown up really doesn't bode well for her character if not assisted properly along. You've told me how effective your own treatments of this young lady have been, but as you know I have my own scientifically derived procedures. If you could just direct me to where I can get started in private?"

"Yes, of course, Marquist, I had anticipated that you'd be interested in getting your own perspective on the matter of my niece, so I've prepared the upstairs study for you. It is fully at your disposal. Is there anything special you might require?"

"Most kind, Edward, I've brought most everything I need in my little bag here, but perhaps, while I go settle in, Ashley can furnish herself with a small container of soapy warm water and some small towels?"

Edward signaled his niece sternly and taking the elder teacher by the arm congenially led him towards the stairs. They climbed together, talking quietly, then disappeared into the upstairs study, a sanctum Ashley only rarely was invited into. A fluttering sensation in her stomach accompanied Ashley's realization that, just as she'd been telling Andrea a few hours before, the old man had every intention of abusing her defenseless position in the household. She was helpless to resist, and she was almost in tears as she went into the kitchen and found a small basin. She climbed the stairs and stopped into the bathroom on the first floor to do as she'd been bid, and collect two white hand towels. She lingered, trying to delay entering the study whose closed doors she glanced at with foreboding, the muffled, jovial voices within unintelligible. She filled the bucket with warm water, and holding a bar of hand soap under the surface rubbed it back and forth, as the water clouded over and became slick. Finally she returned the bar of soap to its dish and washed and dried her hands. Unable to delay any further, she trembled slightly and made her way slowly to the door of the study, where she knocked softly. She obeyed the barked response, and entered the study.

Edward's book-lined, oak paneled study was a classical male sanctum of learning. Dominated by a large dark walnut desk, the room was contained a brown button-leather sofa and two large matching chairs and an ottoman. The afternoon light filtered in through slatted shutters, lending a golden hue to the warm wooden walls and bookcases. The men looked up at the girl as she entered, her delicate blue dress a contrast to the masculine earth-tones and textures of the room.

Edward turned to Marquist, "Right, then, old chap, I shall leave you two to it. I will be going out this afternoon, as I have a number of matters to which I should attend. Take your time with Ashley, and let yourself out afterwards, yes? We shall have ample time to discuss your findings soon. Righto, Ashley, on your best behavior, now, you are to mind Professor Marquist precisely. Should I hear reports that you have not behaved yourself your punishment will be quick and severe, Do you understand, young lady?"

"Yes, Uncle, but... you're leaving me here alone? Can't you stay?" Ashley queried tremulously, peeking up at the old professor on whose lips she could see a small, tight smile of satisfaction.

"Young lady, none of that!" admonished her Uncle. "The professor and I see eye to eye on the rigorous education of young people, and though our methods vary somewhat, you will have ample opportunity to sample both of our methodologies. Marquist, adieu." With this, Edward sailed out the door, closing it behind him.

As the door clicked shut, Ashley quickly looked up at the tall, portly schoolmaster.

"Ah, we are finally alone, my dear. Good, good. As Edward intimated, he and I share philosophical roots when it comes to educating young people. In my long career in education I have learned that the activity of punishing and humiliating young ladies like yourself, Ashley, is very healthful, for me at least, if not for the young ladies in question.

"I shall require your cooperation, young lady, as I don't intend to run around after you. I will remind you just this once that should I report your misbehavior to your guardian, you will be subjected to twice the inconvenience and discomfort which you avoided in the first place!"

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