8 comments/ 113849 views/ 27 favorites A True Slut's Education Ch. 01 By: DeeFisher Mrs Louise Howard wrapped her overcoat tightly against the November wind as she scrambled out of her car at the school gates. The yard was deserted and the gale blew unimpeded around her legs, the crowds of parents and jostling children having already dissipated. Louise was late, and she was in a panic. She was meant to collect her son Neil at three forty five sharp, but thanks to her work she was almost two hours behind. She had needed to visit her solicitors in her lunch hour, and had ended up being three hours at Leigh and Leigh's, waiting for the elderly Mr Leigh to meet with her and discuss her divorce. Her husband had left two months ago but only now had she gathered the nerve to start the legalities of their separation. Her manager was less than understanding and had made her stay on two hours past her shift for being out at lunch. Scurrying up to the building complex it was already dark and the place looked deserted. All but a few second floor windows were black. St Augustus' School for Boys showed no signs of life. Where was Neil? She reached the entrance to the gothic courtyard where the parents were normally requested to wait and carried on through the portico, her footsteps changing from a dull tar macadam thud to the staccato beat of heels on stone. The red double doors of St Augustus' pupils entrance were lit by a single exterior bulb and despite being sheltered from the wind, Louise found herself tugging closer at her coat. The austere school had not been her choice for the young Mr Howard's education. In fact, there had been no choice to make; Mr Howard senior had made that quite clear. Tradition was upheld by her husband and having recently turned eleven years old, Neil was the sixth generation of Howard to attend St Augustus School for Boys. Scanning for a doorbell but finding none, Louise lifted the cast iron lion's head and gave three sharp knocks on the door. The wind howled around the rooftops, but no one answered. She thought of Neil left inside, waiting for her all alone, and rapped again, harder. The courtyard flooded with light and Louise blinked against the harsh brightness as she heard shuffling behind the gateway. A key ground in its lock and one of the ligneous doors swung open. "Oh thanks goodness! I'm sorry, so so sorry for being late. I'm here to collect Neil, Neil Howard." Louise's relief flooded through her as she was ushered into the hallway by the gentleman. She turned to explain her arrival to him but was silenced as he waved an arm at her, beckoning silence. "You must be Mrs Howard. I'm Jim, the night porter. Mr Ashwell wants to speak with you. Follow me, if you please." Without waiting to see if she pleased or not, the porter turned and set off down a corridor. As they walked pale fluorescent tubes illuminated the walls, a stark modern contrast to the grand fascia of the school. She passed photograph after photograph of classes gone by; rows of formal, glum-looking boys with equally glum-looking teachers. Louise pondered on who Mr Ashwell was. Neil's form tutor was Mr Green, and he had never mentioned an Ashwell. The rhythmic tip-tap of her heels echoed against the corridor, the porter's shuffling feet and the faint pinging of the fluorescent lights the only other sounds in earshot. He led her along another corridor, then to the foot of a small wooden staircase. They began to climb. The staircase smelled musty and Louise wondered what the school was using the vast income it must receive to pay for, certainly not decor. The walls looked yellow and she had seen more than a modicum of dust on top of the picture frames. Her husband had been vague on the cost of Neil's tuition here, but she knew it ran into five figures per term. Moving Neil to St Augustus' school was the only reason her husband had allowed her to return to work, to help cover Neil's fees. Reaching the second floor Louise was led along a narrow corridor before arriving at a varnished door. Jim turned to face her and smiled thinly. "Here you are Ma'am. Mr Ashwell is waiting for you." The porter continued to smile as he stepped towards her, then went to pass her in the corridor. His jacket pressed against her coat as he squeezed past, the odour of cigar smoke hitting her nostrils. His smile turned into a leer as his hips brushed hers. She backed into the wall uncomfortably as he pressed up against her, grinning, before moving on and shuffling back down the hallway. Louise's attentions returned to the door as she listened to his footsteps return to the staircase and begin to descend. She realised she'd been holding her breath. Reaching up to knock, her eyes scanned the brass plaque affixed to the portal. "MR ASHWELL HEAD OF BOYS' DISCIPLINE" What kind of school was this! Boys' discipline? Not for the first time in her life she wished she had stood up to her husband and insisted that their son go to Newsham High like all the local kids. "Come!" Louise was about to knock when the voice reached her ears. Startled into action, she turned the handle and opened the door. Warm air greeted her in a rush, and the crackling of logs. The door opened further and a large stone fireplace came into view. A roaring fire cast flickering shadows over dark oak floorboards, reflected in a huge over-mantel mirror. Standard lamps lit the room warmly. "Mrs Howard, a pleasure to meet you. Do come in, come on, don't be shy." Louise looked over to the figure rising from behind a sturdy-looking desk. Smiling cheerily at her a dark-haired Mr Ashwell emerged from his leather-covered desk chair and walked over to greet her, hand extended. He wore a pale blue shirt, ironed crisply, with a navy tie and navy suit trousers. His hair curled amicably, if slightly wildly, on top of a clear pale complexion. He would be handsome if it weren't for his eyes. There was nothing immediately wrong with them, but Louise found herself avoiding them uncomfortably and not knowing why. She weakly met his enthusiastic handshake, eyes scanning about the room for her son. "Please, please, take a seat." He motioned to a wooden-backed chair in front of his desk and turned to return to his. "If you please, Mr Ashwell, I'm just here to collect Neil. I'm so sorry to be so late, you see I was stuck in..." her explanation was curtailed as Mr Ashwell reached his desk and turned to face her. "Mrs Howard, Neil has already been collected by his father." "His father? Oh but I told the secretary on the telephone a while back that Mr Howard was not to be contacted!" Louise wailed. Damn it she didn't want Tom knowing that since he left, her life had turned into mayhem. "Mrs Howard, I'm afraid that school policy dictates that should a child be left waiting for more than half an hour, we contact all available persons to come to collect. In this case, Mr Howard was more than happy to come for Neil." "Yes I bet he was." Louise could just picture his gloating face now. Mum not coping with work, is she Neil? Struggling with the responsibilities of daily life, is she? Louise fought back the tears. "Mrs Howard, I can assure you Neil was more than pleased to see his father. In fact, it was the first time in over a month that your son has appeared cheerful." A small sob burst unheeded from Louise at this news. Mr Ashwell moved towards her and put his arm around her shoulder. A tissue was thrust into her palm and she dabbed at the corners of her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears that threatened to smear her face with mascara. "Please, Mrs Howard, let me take your coat and we will sit down and discuss your son and his situation here at St Augustus." Louise struggled to regain her composure. Biting her bottom lip, she undid the belt of her coat and unbuttoned the front. Mr Ashwell stepped behind her and tugged at her shoulders, slipping the thick cotton fabric from her frame. Louise could smell his breath, sweet, on her neck. He was taller than she had first thought, surely six foot or more, and athletically built beneath his shirt. He seemed to linger longer than needed before stepping away and hanging her coat on a coat stand in the far corner of the room. Louise sat down on the wooden chair while Mr Ashwell turned to a large filing cabinet next to the coat stand. She looked down at her uniform, the royal blue dress zipped tight over her chest. "Staff Nurse Howard" was emblazoned on the ID card on her pocket, a gold fob watch shone on her bosom in the flickering light. Taking out a slim document wallet, Mr Ashwell returned to the desk and took his seat behind it. His eyes were pitch black as they scanned the papers held in the wallet, and Louise noticed he wore a wedding band on his finger. He had slim hands. The head of boy's discipline was no older than she was, she estimated him to be in his low thirties. Louise fiddled nervously with her own wedding ring. Something about Mr Ashwell made her nervous despite his easy-going first impression. "So then, Mrs Howard," Mr Ashwell began to talk without looking up from his paperwork. "Louise, please. My name is Louise." "Very well, Louise. Your son, Neil. He has been with us here for just three months that is correct is it not?" "Yes, Mr Ashwell. He attended the local primary school but my husband, ex-husband; well he felt he should come to St Augustus' for his senior education like all of the Howards have before him." "A wise decision, Louise. This school's reputation is built on tradition. We find that the old methods of teaching still have a place in this modern society of ours. I myself was a pupil here not so long ago, as was my father, and his father before him. My son will begin his tuition September next. I digress. When we were unable to contact you via mobile phone, to let you know of Neil's whereabouts, I thought that this may be the right opportunity to discuss the situation we have found ourselves in." "Situation, Mr Ashwell? I've only been late the once, and it won't happen again I can assure you." Mr Ashwell shushed her with a dismissive wave of his hand. For a moment Louise thought she saw a sneer fleetingly cross his face, but his amenable visage returned. "I speak not of today's situation, Mrs Howard, but of the termination of your marriage. Here at St Augustus' we pride ourselves on upholding family values, and the sanctity of holy wedlock. You must understand that Mr Howard's public image reflects upon the school as a whole." Mr Ashwell stood and shuffled the paperwork on his desk before placing it back into the document wallet. Louise watched as he returned the file to the cabinet. He turned and moved towards her, perching on the edge of the desk directly to the left of her. His groin was just below eye level, the navy trousers stretched across as he widened his knees, his back to the fire and his shadow falling over Louise. She looked upwards to meet his eyes and found him scrutinising her. "Mr Howard was very clear when we spoke this afternoon. Should you continue, as is your right, to pursue the line of divorce, he plans to file a request for full custody of your son Neil." "He wouldn't! He doesn't care about our boy, he never has paid him the blindest bit of notice! This last two month's he's been away in London with his, his slut secretary. He hasn't even made a single phone call to Neil!" Louise spat her words as if the burnt her tongue. Fiery anger overtook her shock and she clutched at the hem of her skirt tightly. Mr Ashwell watched as Louise spoke. Her face flushed in the most enticingly petulant fashion, her bottom lip quivering first in sadness and then vexation. He noticed how tightly her nurse's uniform clung to her bosom, the fabric a deep blue hue against her pale exposed décolletage. She was pulling at the hem of her skirt and he was sure that he could make out the clasps of suspenders on her thighs. His plan was falling into place perfectly. "Mrs Howard, Louise, if I may. Mr Howard was quite translucent in his intent. He intends to request my professional opinion be given in court, as is commonplace in these circumstances. It is Mr Howard's intent to put to the court that you are an unfit mother, that you neglect your son in favour of your career and in fact are unaware of your son's needs and requirements. "Today's incident does not look favourably on you. We did not receive a telephone call to inform us of your retardation. You were, for all intensive purposes, unaware of your eleven year old's location and in fact actively sought for us to not inform his legal guardian of his predicament." Louise flushed heatedly. "It was a one off! My boy means everything to me!" "That may well be," interjected the head of boy's discipline. "However, should I feel it necessary, I am confident that Mr Howard would have a strong case with my professional judgement to confirm and support his application. Neil himself appeared so delighted to see his father. As yet I see no reason why I would decline Mr Howard's request to speak in his favour." Louise couldn't help herself, faced with such unexpected adversity. A sob burst from her lips, to be followed by another, and soon she was crying in earnest. Tears spilled down her face and joined to become rivulets of saltwater coursing down her neck and between her cleavage. Her shoulders heaving, she blubbed like a baby as she realised the cruel severity with which her husband still held her captive. Mr Ashwell watched as the young nurse's breasts heaved and shook with her anguish. He reached into his pocket to fish out an initialled cotton handkerchief. Leaning over from his perch on the desk, he lifted Louise's face to meet his gaze. Her deep blue eyes are framed by black smears, a trickle of mascara running down each cheek and then further down onto those heaving delights of her flesh. He gently wiped the mascara away and held her face between his hands, softly as if cradling a bird. "Please, don't cry like that. I understand, I genuinely do. You work long, hard hours trying to support your family, in a thankless job. I know that you work in order to keep your son financially secure, and that is a task many single women sadly put to one side. Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement." "Agreement? What do you mean?" Louise struggled to subdue the panic which had taken a stranglehold on her emotions. Her eyes were held by Mr Ashwell's, his deep gaze feigning tenderness, but she was not taken in. She feared a serpent hid behind his countenance. "Let me be frank with you, Louise. It would be folly for me to displease your husband. He supports this school not only with generous financial backing but also through the publicity he brings. Should the board of governors hear that I have not been anything less than helpful to him, I would soon find myself off the payroll. "However, as yet, they are unaware of any misgivings I hold towards you or the care you provide for your offspring. It seems I am in a powerful position, the fortunes of your family are mine to dictate." With this, Mr Ashwell loosened his tie, tugging at the knot until the silk slipped loose. He watched as Louise's bottom lip trembled once more, tears welling in her eyes. The power he held over this woman, a stranger until five minutes ago, was arousing him as much as he had hoped. "I have toyed with you long enough, I fear. You may choose. Leave now, and I will comply with the requests made of me and fully support Mr Howard's claim that you are unable to manage the trials of supporting a child singlehandedly. Comply with my orders, and I will amend our records to show that you did indeed ensure adequate afterschool provision was made in advance. Our secretary could merely have misplaced the note; she is a little absentminded with these things from time to time. Such a small addition to today's events would surely satisfy the courts." Mr Ashwell tightened his hold on Louise's face, his thumb pressing painfully into her jaw line. Her eyes were wide, aghast and rimmed with black mascara. Mr Ashwell's dark gaze was intense as it scrutinized her terror-stricken face. He smiled, for the first time it seemed to Louise that he was truly pleased, and she shivered involuntarily. He released his hold on her jaw and moved to her neck, squeezing like a python and restricting her breathing. His slim hands conveyed a strength she had not realised he held. Five finger marks blanched on her face, then flushed red as Louise's circulation returned. Her head was stock still, petrified, as Mr Ashwell bent to nuzzle her hair. With his free hand he tugged at her ponytail and freed her tresses from their bondage. His grip remained stony on her neck and she dared not move lest he tighten it to the point of strangulation. He breathed into her auburn mane, and whispered into her ear through the filaments. "Louise, you are going to make me a happy man. I can tell already that you need to be treated firmly, you have lacked guidance the past two months. Let me show you how a woman needs, craves to be treated." Reaching to her shoulders, he slid both hands along her frame and down each arm, slowly. Louise did not dare to move. She was alone in this place, without a way of summoning help, and facing complete devastation should she manage to escape her captor. Butterflies began to churn inside her belly as she contemplated her immediate future. Mr Ashwell had not illuminated upon what he intended to do with her, but she had a pretty good idea. He was just like her husband, and she trembled. Gripping Louise's wrists tightly in one slender hand, Mr Ashwell began to tether her. Wrapping the expensive silk tie around in repeated figures of eight, he deftly restrained both wrists before immobilising them with a series of knots. He watched as she trembled beneath his touch. His breathing quickening at the sight of this delicious young nurse quivering at this mere contact and he felt his cock begin to stiffen inside his underwear. "I do hope you are going to be compliant with my manipulations, Louise. I do so hate it when young ladies try to undermine the natural order of things. You will be a good girl now, won't you?" Mr Ashwell spoke as he walked round to face Louise once again. She remained statuesque as he perched back on the desk in front of her, her eyes set on his. Her shoulders were painfully tight and pinioned behind her both hands were beginning to go numb already. She did not attempt to release her restraints. Mr Ashwell watched as Louise breathed heavily below him. His erection was now burgeoning within his trousers and throbbing uncomfortably. Her bosom was thrust upwards involuntarily and he reached down to clasp the zip of her uniform. Slowly, delicately, he lowered the zipper and inch after inch of her pale cleavage came into view. A single tear fled down her cheek and dripped onto his hand. Louise stifled a sob as her bra came into view, the black scalloped lace barely hiding her large, rosy areolas. Mr Ashwell continued to move the zip down until the uniform was slashed to her waist. He then caressed up one side of the material, his knuckles brushed against the top of her breast. Gently he slid one finger into the lacy edge of her bra and traced along it from top to bottom. His finger sank into the cleft of her bosom and then up along the swelling of her other breast. She was well endowed and her brassiere showed all of her breasts through the diaphanous lace. Retracing his movements he returned to finger the edge of the lace before cupping her right breast in his left hand. His thumb slid downwards, skimming her nipple beneath its encasement of French embroidery. The traitorous bud stiffened beneath his touch as Louise quivered. Mr Ashwell grinned widely, but remained silent. He merely continued to stroke her breast through the lace, gently cupping her flesh before kneading it firmly. Pinching gently he rubbed her nipple again and watched as Louise flushed. A True Slut's Education Ch. 01 Louise lowered her gaze as she felt herself blushing, her body felt like it was being immersed into the flames of hell as this cruel man stoked her with his abusive touch. How could such treatment cause her skin to thrill so! Every nerve fibre in her breasts was singing, tingling beyond redemption at a moment's attention from such a man as Mr Ashwell. Louise stifled a moan, her head reeling at how perfidiously her body was reacting. Her husband had never aroused her so much in their 13 years of marriage compared to this stranger who had her purring with just a brief caress. Blackmailing her into meeting his sexual whims was not meant to make her feel good. She should be screaming, fighting him with everything she had, and yet she meekly sat beneath his shadow. Hooking the lace away, Mr Ashwell reached in fully and extracted her breasts from her lingerie. Foaming over the top, each globe bounced as it was released, the bra squashing them upwards as they jostled for space. Louise shook her head, her hair falling in front of her face to hide her embarrassment at being stripped. Mr Ashwell's groin was close to her face and she could see him straining beneath his flies. The thought of his swollen erection elicited another unwanted moan, and she ground her thighs together unbidden. Mr Ashwell laughed at her squirming in her seat and gathered her hair up in one fist. The little whore loved it, she could barely stop herself from squeezing those thighs and oozing pussy juice all over the seat. He could smell her arousal already and could barely contain his own excitement. Wrapping her hair around his fist he brought her face to his crotch. "Unzip me" he commanded, holding her head tight against his trousers where the fabric was raised vulgarly. "But, but I can't, you've tied me. How can I like this?" Louise stammered into his crotch. Her breath was warm and Mr Ashwell could feel the moisture through the cotton pants. "Use your teeth, slut." Louise groaned at hearing herself referred to in this way. She was no slut; she was a wife, a nurse, a mother but never a slut. Her mind screamed at her to refuse, to bite him instead and fly away. Instead, her body betrayed her and she nestled her face into him. Mr Ashwell laughed malevolently as she struggled in his lap. Her ministrations grazed the fabric across his member and he momentarily forgot his composure, lifting his hips to her face. Her lips tried futilely to grasp the zip but slipped repeatedly, until finally she had the little metal clasp held firmly between bared teeth. She shook her head as she tugged it downwards, narrowly avoiding trapping her own hair in the device. Mr Ashwell's watched as his cock swelled through the opening in his trousers, caught at the tip beneath the fabric before bursting forth and swaying in front of Louise's face. It rose, gargantuan; a pulsating monument to his enjoyment at her degradation. Louise's eyes widened as his cock bobbed in front of her vision. Having married John Howard at the immature age of sixteen, this was only the second male member she had seen at full stature. It was monstrous, swollen a deep pink, the skin of its enormous head pulled tight around the opening of his urethra. Mr Ashwell snarled as he watched the young nurse halt and stare at his erect cock. The tension in his groin was already reaching a level of frustration he rarely had encountered. "You like that, don't you, Mrs Howard. What are you waiting for, pleasure me." Louise stared at his cock, still astounded at its dimensions. Her husband had never made her do what this man was expecting of her. He had felt it beneath them, something more common couples might do but certainly not for his Louise. Not for his Louise, but an image of her husband and his secretary flashed in front of her eyes in painful memory, her face buried in his lap. A searing stab of anguish hit her full in the belly as a tear slid once again down her cheek. Her hands pulsed painfully behind her, and something in her shoulders was burning. She looked up and met Mr Ashwell's gaze. Yes, she could play slut for this man. Slowly, tentatively, she opened her mouth and planted a kiss onto the very tip of his cock. She may not have done this before but Louise knew what was expected of her. Many times she had sneaked down from her bedroom and turned on her husband's computer to watch pornography after he had taken what he wanted from her then gone to sleep. She would sit watching the falsified girls purr and slurp on their professional meat and frig herself, her pallid flesh illuminated by her computer screen. Slowly she kissed along the length of Mr Ashwell's cock. As she reached the base she inhaled, a deeply primeval odour of male potency. A moan escaped her lips as she continued down. Her face nuzzled his trousers as she reached the junction of his swollen member and the navy pants. She marvelled at the way his smell was making her tingle and shiver with every moment she spent at his whim. Was she truly enjoying being treated this way? Slowly, she extended her tongue and began to lick her way back up to the tip of his dick. Flattening her tongue she lapped upwards, tasting him for the first time, a slight trace of sweat mixed with a hint of soap. Her eyes were fixed on this pulsating tower, his veins were visibly thudding before her in a way she had never noticed in her midnight porn movies. It was incredibly stimulating and she couldn't help but notice the profusion of juices that were pooling between her legs. Yes, she was enjoying this! She felt that her uniform must be saturated with her lust and she blushed. Mr Ashwell watched closely as his new bitch moaned and burrowed her face in his crotch. He could smell her arousal in the air, a tangy odour that made his balls ache. He wanted to cum, had done since he heard that Mrs Howard hadn't called to collect her brat. As events unfolded his idea had formed and blossomed in his head until his cock was stiff and throbbing at the devious pleasure he had envisaged. Looking down he viewed Louise salivating over his prick. She had moved on to suck him, the glistening head of his cock vanishing between her rosy lips as she opened to accept him. Her auburn hair was obstructing a better view so he bundled it into one hand. Shining ribbons of her hair threaded delicately through his fingers and his cock pulsed at this position of power over her. He now controlled her movements entirely. Damn he wanted to cum. "Suck it, slut. Get me nice and wet, I want to hear you worshipping my cock." Louise purred as she heard Mr Ashwell talk dirty to her. She thought of all the times she'd dreamt of her husband whispering filth to her but been treated with a vague disinterest. Mr Ashwell was holding her to ransom, almost raping her in truth, yet she was more turned on than she had ever been. "Take it, more of it, don't just suck the tip. Come on, little nursey, take my cock. You like that don't you. Ahhhh, you love sucking my cock. Come on bitch, mmm like that." Louise struggled to fit more of the pulsating flesh into her mouth, rising up off the seat a little involuntarily as she manoeuvred her head in his grasp. Her hair was beginning to sting as it was pulled at the roots but she barely noticed. Her tormentor had her entirely at his mercy as he pulled her face closer to his crotch. She struggled momentarily as her breathing was restricted, her throat closed off by the thick meat shoved to the back of her mouth. She snatched a breath as Mr Ashwell pulled her back off his cock a little, only to have herself forced right back down again. Tears sprung from her eyes as his cock rammed to the back of her gullet. For the first time since being bound she struggled against her captor, the silk holding firm as she squirmed against her bonds. Mr Ashwell thrilled as Louise gagged on his cock and writhed futilely for him. His fist knotted into her hair, her wrists tethered, she was helpless in his hands. Such a pretty sight he thought as he looked at her uniformed figure struggling. Such an angelic looking woman but a true slut at heart. Her eyes flickered upwards to him, alarm on her face, silently pleading with him to stop. "Good girl, be my good dirty bitch baby. Show me how much you're willing to do for me." Gripping her head tightly with the one hand and steadying himself on the desk with the other, he drove home his cock and deepthroated her. Tears were flowing in earnest now as she fought against him, but she didn't kick out and try to stop him. Louise could barely think, barely breathe as his cock slammed repeatedly into her face. Her saliva dribbled down her chin and slopped onto her breasts, cold and gooey. Her lungs thought they would burst but every time she tried to breathe she choked on the thick length that was invading her throat. Only his blackmailed threat kept her from losing it entirely. She tried to keep pace and breathe as he withdrew but he was too fast for her. Mr Ashwell watched Louise, her mouth gaping as he pulled on her head with each thrust of his hips. His balls were slapping on her wet chin and the room was filled with the sound of his cock entering her airway. That delicious, squelching sound as he slammed into her was going to make him cum. Her scent was thick in the air as he raggedly panted. "Oh baby, I'm going to make such a pretty mess of you. I bet you can't wait to swallow up my load, can you baby. Ohhh you little slut, you're gonna look so good!" As he neared climax his dirty talk turned into senseless groaning. He was fucking her face so hard, so deeply and the little bitch was loving it. He could feel the fire licking at his balls as each thrust brought him closer. Listening to him groaning Louise could tell that Mr Ashwell was close. His fist was pulling her hair painfully now but he had slowed enough for her to manage to drag oxygen into her screaming lungs. Her consciousness returned enough with this breathing that she realised she was hotter than ever, her pussy tingling so much that she didn't know which was the worst torment. Her throat was bruised, her dignity in tatters, but her cunt was aching like fury, desperate to be touched. Above her Mr Ashwell was hissing through clenched teeth and growling. Louise was dragged off his cock as he held her facing upwards, his other hand wrapping itself around the shaft of his cock. Her eyes were glued to the immense organ as he pumped himself frantically. Groaning loudly Mr Ashwell clenched his cock tightly, the tip resting on Louise's plump bottom lip. His whole body flooded with electric pleasure as he climaxed, his eyes set on those of the woman at his command. Waves of hot orgasm flowed from his cock to the tips of his fingers and he shuddered as the first jet of cum erupted from his cock. Trailing over her nose the liquid anointed Louise, splashing onto her forehead and into her hair. A second pulsating jet flooded onto her lips and down her chin. The deluge slowing to a drool he pumped his cock slowly as his spunk drained into Louise's waiting mouth. Only when every last drop of his juice had been emptied into her did Mr Ashwell release his hold on Louise's hair. He looked at his captive, thick streams of jizm dripping down her face, her hair flecked with white pearls. "Mmmm, beautiful. You make a fine Lucrece." Mr Ashwell stood and walked around Louise, scrutinising her, his semi-stiff cock hanging vulgarly from his trousers. Louise wanted to look down and hang her head in shame, but she couldn't make her body move. Her neck was stiff, aching, her shoulders on fire now but these were nothing in comparison to the ache she held between her legs. The taste of him was so bitter and salty in her mouth but it made her feel so horny. Without thinking about it she flickered her tongue and licked up the cum from her lips. Deftly Mr Ashwell untied Louise, her hands burning as her circulation returned to her extremities. He briefly firmly massaged her shoulders sending stabbing pains shooting through her muscles. His cock brushed her hair while he kneaded her flesh. Returning to the desk he looked again at Louise, her face still covered in his cum. He scooped up the now cooling sperm with his finger and fed her the gelatinous mess. She took it without question, suckling on his fingers. Her pussy was still tingling, desperate for release. Not long ago she had cried, bawled at being subjected to his blackmail. Now she wanted to beg for him to touch her. Smearing the last of his spunk onto her lips, Mr Ashwell smiled at Louise. "Mrs Howard, you are dismissed." A True Slut's Education Ch. 02 It is highly recommended that this, chapter two, is read immediately after chapter one in order to follow on the storyline and avoid confusion over characters and their roles. While this is in the non-consent / reluctance category, it also has themes of S&M running strongly through it and would fit just as well into the BDSM category. Enjoy! ***************************** Returning to the desk he looked again at Louise, her face still covered in his cum. He scooped up the now cooling sperm with his finger and fed her the gelatinous mess. She took it without question, suckling on his fingers. Her pussy was still tingling, desperate for release. Not long ago she had cried, bawled at being subjected to his blackmail. Now she wanted to beg for him to touch her. Smearing the last of his spunk onto her lips, Mr Ashwell smiled at Louise. "Mrs Howard, you are dismissed." Louise looked up at Mr Ashwell, his dark hair still slick with sweat following his orgasm. His salty taste still lingered on her lips, testament to his enjoyment of her first ever blowjob. Her heart was pounding, her scalp sore where he had tugged at her head and forced his cock into her over-stretched mouth. Still rubbing her wrists, Louise feared to get up. She felt he was playing another game with her, having raped her mouth surely he would want to take the rest of her body too? Whilst relieved that he seemed to be showing compassion, her body was singing with unreleased tension. She had gone from hating this blackmailer to aching all over with desire. "Well, what are you waiting for?" "I, er, nothing." Louise's voice faltered. Her body was screaming at her to ask him to fuck her, but instead she sat in stupefied silence. She had come to pick her son up, been held to ransom over his future, and made to suck cock in a way she had only ever seen on TV. Her face was covered in a thin film of cum, her nurse's uniform unzipped to the waist and there was a puddle of her juices underneath her on the hard wooden seat of her chair. Worse than enduring her degradation, Louise had enjoyed it. Pulling at her senses she tried not to think of her reactions to this dark, fierce man and his cruel treatment of her. She made to redress herself, wanting to cover up and escape. "You are dismissed. I believe Jim will be waiting for his turn in the porter's office downstairs." "The night porter? What do you mean, his turn?" Her finger rested on the metal zip, twitching nervously. "Our night porter also takes care of our security. This room is fitted with cameras and a microphone, for the safety of our students of course. No doubt he has been watching and listening to our little arrangement with great interest. You may have succeeded in persuading me to forget about your shortcomings, but I'm sure Jim will also require some kind of favour in order to keep quiet." Waving casually towards the fireplace Mr Ashwell demonstrated the location of a previously unnoticed video camera. There, next to a mounted cane by the mirror flashed a tiny red light, blinking as it transmitted a live feed. Louise moaned, flushing with embarrassment at having been debased in such a public way. She imagined the fat little porter watching her sucking on Mr Ashwell's cock, her breasts foaming over their discarded bra and bouncing as she was abused. An image of him wanking a stubby, grimy cock, vile spunk dribbling weakly onto his portly belly darted into her mind and her bile rose. "Oh god... Oh no, I can't, I can't suck that man." "Don't worry yourself about that. Our porter is not known for having a lascivious taste in women. No, I imagine he will be wanting to take his pleasure from your lovely pert little bottom instead. A good buggering should sort you out just fine!" Mr Ashwell laughed as Louise squealed, dismayed at the thought of having her bottom penetrated by the aged night porter. "No no no, you can't let him do that to me!! Please, please, don't let him fuck my arse! Anything but that! Please, I'll pay you, I can make some kind of arrangement." Louise blabbered to Mr Ashwell then buried her face in her hands. Mr Ashwell let her cry, watching her shoulders heave in wracking sobs. The idea of the night porter taking her crudely and savagely from behind had him aroused again and he felt the blood start flowing into his still-exposed cock. The little slut would love it really, shamed to taking an old man's dick up her rectum. He had no desire to intervene, what the night porter did with this fine piece of female flesh was none of his business, but he decided to let her try to persuade him to protect her anyway. Resisting the urge to tug at his cock he went to the coat stand and removed Louise's overcoat. "You are dismissed, as I have already stated. Take your coat. I have papers to mark." He held it out to her and watched as she rose to her feet unsteadily. The aroma of feminine arousal permeated the air and Mr Ashwell's prick twitched in response. Dishevelled, confused and reeling with the impossibility of the task ahead of her Louise walked over to reach for her coat from the manipulative Mr Ashwell. His cock was jutting out from his crotch and pulsating rudely. She could still smell his cum, still taste his cock on her breath. Louise reached over for her coat. "Is there really nothing you could do? Could you not threaten him that you will have him fired if he dares say anything? Please, I beg you, don't make me fuck that man!" She instinctively grabbed at his hands, squeezing them as if to plead with them. "Threaten a man for doing precisely what I have? That would make me a hypocrite. Besides, you have nothing special that I would want in exchange." Louise knew she had to try. She hated herself for even thinking of it, but in truth her horror at pleasing Jim was tempered by the still-throbbing urge which held her pussy captive. There was no point denying it further, she was as ashamed of herself already as she felt she could be. "There is nothing I can do for you to change your mind? Nothing at all?" The words came with difficulty but she meant it. She would do anything with this man if it meant she didn't have to touch the porter. "My dear, I fear my tastes in pleasure lie far from your own. While I accepted your mouth in exchange for a considerable favour on my part, I am not a cruel man. I would not subject you to my particular fetishes without full consent." "I do consent. I mean it! Save me from that man, and in exchange you can do whatever you want with me, I don't care. He makes me feel sick! The way he leered at me in the corridor, his horrid breath on my skin as he pushed up against me, no, I couldn't bear to be touched by him!" She shuddered and gagged. Seeing her in such a state of fear had Mr Ashwell trembling with desire. He couldn't help it, he just loved to see a woman in need. Pulling her close, he raised her gaze to his own. "Very well. If you're certain then I will accept your offer." Her face seemed so small in his embrace. For the first time Mr Ashwell appreciated her beauty close up. Her lips were perfect, the most beautiful dusky rose pink and ambrosial in their fullness. Her chin was pointed and almost elfin. Black streaks still smeared from her eyes where she had wiped away tears not long before. "Strip for me. I want to see what else I can enjoy." Releasing her, Mr Ashwell went behind his desk and reclined in his chair. Louise was left by the coat stand. Reaching up to her fob watch she unclasped it and placed it carefully on the edge of the desk. She took a step back. The idea of Jim watching her over the video link made her skin crawl, but it was better than allowing his hands to caress her. Slowly she unzipped the uniform once more, the royal blue cotton slashing open to reveal her black French lace bra. As she slipped the uniform down off her shoulders her nipples came into view behind the semi-opaque cups. They peeked pertly showing her arousal to the corrupt teacher. Her slim waist allowed the uniform to fall around her hips. Louise wondered if Mr Ashwell was expecting a full strip-tease. She was so nervous though that she merely slipped the uniform down and over her hips, letting it drop to the floor. Mr Ashwell watched with his cock in his hand as the nurse removed her dress. His eyes widened as he saw that she wore no knickers. French lace encircled her hips. Her suspender belt highlighted the triangle of shaved flesh between her legs and was attached to a pair of lace-topped stockings. "You surprise me Louise. I always thought nurses would wear white cotton panties under their uniforms. You little minx." His tone was both derogatory and amused. Louise blushed as he ogled her pussy from behind the desk. "The hospital gets hot, and knickers are bad for feminine hygiene. Stockings allow a woman to breathe." "I bet they do, my sexy little slut. Enjoy letting the patients get a glimpse of your forbidden fruits, do you?" She blushed even harder. While she never flashed on purpose, the idea of the younger male patients finding out that she wore no knickers had always turned her on. Occasionally she would slyly play with herself during clinic, hidden behind the curtains and biting her lip to stifle her moans. She couldn't help it -- her husband never satisfied her and left her to simmer for weeks on end. "I can't imagine what the doctors would say if they knew their nurse was wandering around with no underwear on, her pussy-scent turning all the patients on, her juices moistening her thighs while she writes her notes..." Mr Ashwell licked his lips and stood. He stalked around to the front of his desk. "Talking of which, you seem to have left a little puddle on my antique chair. Come." Mr Ashwell beckoned to Louise. "On your hands and knees. Clean this mess up, I want it licked clean then polished with your tits." Louise did not dare disobey. Stepping forwards she bent and placed both hands on the floor then crawled to the chair a few feet away. The floorboards were smooth and surprisingly cold beneath her. Levering herself up to the seat of the chair she examined the creamy smear of moisture on the chair's seat. Trying not to envisage the various derrieres which had occupied it before her, she extended her tongue and lapped at the slickness. The taste of her own musk was rich and sweet as she licked up every remnant from the polished wood. Louise tried not to think about herself and the predicament she was in. Nude except for some lace which made her feel all the more exposed she was on her knees for the schoolmaster. Her hands were getting dusty and the shame of having to lick her own juices off of a chair having just been face-fucked on it was just too much to bear. Mr Ashwell had strolled behind her and she could feel his gaze on her bared pussy lips. Feeling vulnerable had her pulse unexpectedly racing. She leant over the chair and rubbed her breasts over the seat. His hands brushed her buttocks unexpectedly but she didn't stop until the seat of the chair was dry. "That will do. Now, over by the fireplace, fetch my cane." Louise knew then the price at which her salvation from Jim was to come at. Scrambling ungracefully from the floor she walked over and retrieved the rattan cane from the wall. Her hands shook as she carried it over to Mr Ashwell. While not heavy, she estimated it to be just under a half inch wide and over three foot long. A crooked end completed the cane. Mr Ashwell waited silently as she fetched for him. "This cane has been in the school for longer than I, Louise. Many a pupil has been disciplined over the years with it. A little linseed oil and a cane can witness many a correctional swipe. "Traditionally a pupil was able to avoid a week's worth of detention by begging for a swishing from the headmaster instead. It may leave a good sting in the tail but no doubt is preferable to losing out on one's free time. I will offer you the same choice. You can leave and go and enjoy a good session with our old night porter, or stay and pay your dues with a sharp swishing. Which is it to be?" Louise shook as she held the cane. Looking down at it, the cane didn't seem too aggressive, but she was already aware that looks could be deceiving. A caning or a buggering, how had she ended up with such a raw choice! "I'll take the cane." Her voice was small and quavered as she spoke. "Now now, we can do better than that. I'm inclined to refuse if that's as good as it gets. Try again." "Please, Mr Ashwell, I would prefer the cane." Her eyes tipped forwards and met his stare as she asked politely. "Beg for it." Louise blushed. She felt silly, stood in her undergarments in front of this man, cane in hand, asking to be whipped. Silly, but just a little tingle of excitement ran up her spine. Her attraction to Mr Ashwell was increasing and her pussy was still pleading to be touched. "Beg for it, Louise, as if you mean it." Mr Ashwell reached forwards and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The tender touch sent Louise giddy. She had to do this, had to make things right for the sake of her son and for her own sanity now. Holding the cane up to him, she tried again. "Please, Mr Ashwell, I'm so sorry for putting you to this trouble. I didn't mean to be such a lacking wife that my husband had to leave me to find happiness. If you would be so, so kind, to please cane me and save me from the porter then I would be so grateful. I beg you, please cane me." Louise was surprised to find the words so easy to utter. She realised she meant them, she did feel responsible somehow for everything that had happened to her. She also, for no logical reason she could put her finger on, desperately wanted to please this man. He seemed so in control yet so full of aggression. His praise was addictive. "Very well. Six lashes, and your debts are paid." Mr Ashwell led Louise to his desk, perching her on the edge facing him. Those ruby lips were quivering slightly but to her credit the woman hadn't burst into tears again. Putting the cane to one side he reached to his wrist and began to roll up his sleeves, making sure that Louise watched him. "Take off your lower garments. It'll be easier on your thighs if you do." "Thighs?" said Louise. She had expected him to cane her hands or maybe her buttocks, but not her thighs. She reached down and touched them. One glance from Mr Ashwell and she was kicking off her shoes. Her fingers fumbled undoing the clasps to her stockings. One by one she rolled them down, exposing pale slender legs before removing her suspender belt. She folded her items neatly and put them on the clean chair. Naked except for her bra she stood before him. Mr Ashwell looked at the sylph-like figure of Mrs Louise Howard stood primly before him. She was so perfectly formed, what an idiot that husband of hers must be. She was so compliant, unquestioning! He stepped up to her and fondled her hair between his fingertips. The straight, shimmering chestnut highlighted her pale skin beautifully. Reaching behind her he undid her bra and let her breasts hang freely. Breathing into her ear he slid a hand up and over her left breast, pressed close to her. Louise wanted to swoon, her pussy was clamouring for attention and it took all her might not to throw herself at him as he tweaked her nipple. Her face tilted upwards towards him, seeking a kiss. None was offered. Mr Ashwell took a step back and retrieved his cane. Lovingly he ran his hands over it, the yellowing beige bending as he flexed it gently. He tapped the tip of the desk with it. "Bend over onto my desk. Breasts flat on the top, hands under your chin, bottom out." Louise did as she was told. She stifled a squeak as her skin touched the cold embossed leather tabletop. She heard him swish the cane behind her and trembled. From top to toe her body involuntarily shivered as if the November air had been let in. "Will you be still for me Louise, or do I need to tie you?" "No Mr Ashwell, I won't move. I promise. If this will keep me away from the porter then I won't budge." She wanted to add "if it will please you" but kept this to herself. Mr Ashwell admired his prone victim as she leant over the desk. Her bare feet were on tiptoes, the desk a large, sturdy antique as old as the school itself. Her buttocks were a milky white and deliciously full. Her breasts were visibly squashed against the surface. Mr Ashwell walked around her, admiring the view while Louise waited. The anticipation of six lashes on her soft thighs was growing inside him. He kicked her feet a little wider until they were shoulder width apart. Louise wanted to scream as Mr Ashwell prolonged her waiting. A panic that had lurked beneath the surface suddenly peaked and for a moment she thought she would vomit. How on earth had she ended up in this situation, she hadn't done anything wrong! She felt like her muscles were fighting against her mind, wanting to tense and move away from this threat while her head told her that she had no other option but to stay where she was and endure the pain. Mr Ashwell knew Louise's mental struggle, his arousal increasing as he saw her bottom lip being bitten in worry. He enjoyed making her wait, his sadistic tendencies tempting him into further delay. Stroking the very tip of the cane up along the inside of her ankle he teased Louise. Her skin prickled as he continued to move it upwards, along her calf and behind her knee. Her nerves were frayed as Mr Ashwell took the cane away, swished it the air, and then returned to tickling her. Ever so slowly the cane wound its way up her inner thigh until Louise could bear it no more. "Please, get it over with! Just do it!" Unseen by the stricken woman in front of him, Mr Ashwell smiled. Taking a step to his right he raised the cane slightly before bringing it down swiftly back-hand with a flick of his wrist. Louise shrieked as a stinging fire lit up along the top of both her thighs. The cane bit her flesh with an electrifyingly sharp jolt. As the pain hit Louise hissed, only for the sharp sting to be replaced with a burning heat. She barely had time to compose herself before another flick of Mr Ashwell's wrist sent her careening into a spiral of biting agony. This time she couldn't help but shriek, her thighs throbbing angrily as she bent over the desk. Mr Ashwell smiled as he watched the young woman's thigh blanch briefly before blossoming into an angry red. His last stroke had been an inch below the crease of her buttocks and he admired her full globes as they flushed from beneath. To her credit, Louise had not flinched from her position over the desk. His next stroke hit harder, straight across the buttocks. Louise had not been expecting it and she groaned out loud as her bottom lit up with pain. Another strike overlapping the first and it felt like a swarm of wasps was attacking her behind. A warm sensation flooded between her thighs and Louise wondered if she was bleeding, her bottom stripped of its flesh. Mr Ashwell paused and took a moment to enjoy his quarry. Two vivid red stripes decorated her upper thighs, with another pair of criss-cross lines marking her buttocks. Her eyes were screwed tightly closed. Beads of perspiration gathered on her lined forehead, her complexion pale against the desktop. Her forehead was not the only place to be dampened from his ministrations however. As his eyes examined his handiwork more closely the head of boy's discipline stiffened as he saw Louise's inner thighs. Slick pussy juice glistened in the firelight. Her labia were engorged, swollen. The shining scarlet lips beckoned Mr Ashwell to touch them. Reaching down, he slid his index finger along her inner thigh and up to the delicately pouting entrance to her pussy. He parted her labia only for his finger to be instantly soaked as a profusion of viscous juices oozed from Louise's vagina. Louise moaned as he slid further into her. A True Slut's Education Ch. 02 "You filthy little whore, look how wet you are!" Mr Ashwell gloated as he scooped up a fingerful of her wetness. Offering his digits to her mouth he fed Louise her juices. Louise lapped at the liquid offered to her, then suckled his finger as she tasted herself on his skin. The creamy, acidic tang of her feminine lubrication filled her mouth. She opened her eyes and looked up at her tormentor standing over her. His jawline was cast in shadow, the firelight behind him giving him a glinting chestnut halo. With his sleeves rolled up Louise was able to admire his arms, toned and lightly haired. She wanted to move, kiss up his arms and on to his body. Mr Ashwell was letting Louise suckle his finger, her warm tongue snaking around his digit. She really was rather alluring. From Mr Howard's disparaging comments about his wife he had expected her to be suitably compliant, but her willingness and eagerness to please was well above his expectations. He had hoped for a good fuck...but perhaps he had been gifted more than that. She had potential. He tore his finger from her mouth and walked around her. More juice had pooled at the entrance to her pussy and was slowly being smeared between her thighs as she helplessly rubbed them together. His cock chaffed uncomfortably as it protruded through his trousers. Deftly unbuckling his belt he slid off his pants and pulled his shirt over his head -- it had suddenly become overly warm in his office. Louise heard the clothing rustle, and the chink of his belt being released then dropped to the floor. She wanted to turn, to look at him nude and exposed to her judgement. Her neck ached as she struggled to control herself. Was he hairy? Tanned? "Just two more, my little slut, and we'll see how wet you can get for me." Mr Ashwell interrupted her reverie. He slapped Louise smartly across both buttocks and watched as her feet stomped on the spot, nervously dancing. Gripping the cane once more he took his stance. Backhand, a sharp swat of his wrist and Louise was squealing, tears bursting from her closed eyelids. His strike had landed on its intended target, crushing the lower curve of her buttocks and catching her pouting pussy lips. Her weight on her upper body and the desk, her legs flicked up; her calves squashing against her thighs as if to protect them from the biting assault. "Be still." Mr Ashwell barked his command and Louise instantly lowered her legs. Her reaction pleased him, as did the sight of her saporous cunt. The urge to plunge himself deep within her was dire, tempting him into forgiving her the final lashing. He crushed his desire with a growl. Louise was whimpering on the desk, her most delicate of parts stinging as the teacher's libertine treatment; Mr Ashwell's bestial roar still echoing in her ears. Her clitoris was resonating with the sharp twang of the cane and she couldn't discern whether it was in pure pain or some strange kind of enjoyment. She calmed herself with the thought that just one more painful strike remained. Just one more, and she ought to be free to go. Mr Ashwell stroked his cock while he waited for Louise to settle. The last flick of his wrist had been a brutal one and he wanted to savour the moment. He kept Louise waiting once more before eyeing up her thighs for their ultimate lashing. They were wet with the nectar which flowed relentlessly from her engorged pussy. The smell of her was high in the air and he wanted to taste and see if she was as sweet on his tongue as she was in the air. "One more lash Louise and I will show you how pleased you have made me. You deserve praise, my little bitch, you make a beautiful supplicant." Mr Ashwell wanked himself as he spoke to her, blatantly flaunting his arousal. Raising his arm for effect he brought the rattan swiftly onto her thighs, scourging her slender legs. Louise cried out, a shrill scream that faded into wracking sobs. Her legs were on fire, each nerve end proclaiming its agony as the blood returned to her crushed flesh. Worse than the agony of the whipping, her pussy felt like she was going to implode. Never had she known anguish like it. The smell of her arousal was everywhere, the taste of the teacher's cum still strong to her senses. The way she felt so vulnerable, so abused, had turned into a yearning to be used by this beguiling tyrant. She had found her fantasy, her unknown kink, and as the pain faded she was left with a bitter sense of loss. Was it all truly over? Her pussy was aching so desperately. The words fell from her mouth unbidden, she was unable to stop them from forming on her lips. Whisperingly they trickled like dew falling from leaves in a breeze. "Please, Mr Ashwell, please fuck me. I need you, I want you so badly! I think I love you! The way you make me feel, when, when you hurt me.... It just makes me ache for you the more. How did you know I was like this? I had never dreamed...your cock, oh how I want it, need it, oh please fuck me!" Louise babbled, her head reeling. She bit her lip. Had she really spoken those words? She must be mad, driven insane by the pain. She heard him shuffling behind her and braced herself, expecting another lash for having told Mr Ashwell her thoughts. A firm hand slid up her inner thighs, spreading out at the junction between her legs and cupping her pussy. She felt her juices oozing over his hand, the touch of his palm making her legs turn to jelly. He pressed harder, sliding his index finger along one side of her clit, his middle finger on the other. Hard, juddering pleasure spread though her cunt as he squeezed his fingers together, her clitoris trapped in his clutches. "Oh yes, please! Oohhhhhh!!" Louise groaned loud and long as the fingers were removed, swiftly being replaced by the colossal head of Mr Ashwell's giant member. Without so much as a preliminary tease, Mr Ashwell buried his Herculean shaft right up to the hilt in Louise's pussy. Hearing the little bitch moaning for his meat had him as horny as the pit of Hell itself. The little slut wanted it? He powered into her with a battery of thrusts, each harder than the last. Mr Ashwell could feel her secretions sliding along his shaft and down onto his balls. She was so wet that he grabbed onto her shoulders, pressing her fiercely into the desk in order to keep good purchase on her. Bent over the desk, he fucked her like a maniac; sweat began to pour from him as he strained to stuff more of himself into her slick hole. Louise felt herself crushed against the desk, pinioned to the piece of furniture with no hope of escape. The barrage of thrusts sent her mind reeling as her sex was pounded again and again. She could hear him grunting; his sweat was dripping down and over her naked back, adding to the slippery rivulet between her buttocks. Grabbing a fist full of her hair Mr Ashwell dragged Louise's head back, his other hand moving to the desk as he ploughed into her. His balls were tightening, threatening to empty their load right into the nurse's sweet, sticky pussy. The sound of his genitals thudding, squelching into hers was enough to start him moaning anew. Louise felt her head pulled backwards and closed her eyes as she surrendered herself to the hammering of Mr Ashwell's cock. His balls slammed roughly into her clitoris, repeatedly sending electrified jolts of sheer pleasure up through her belly and into her brain. She thought of nothing but the slopping, pounding sound of his cock inside her. Blood pulsed deafeningly through her veins. Just as she felt she could bear no more, her body punished to breaking point, Louise felt the familiar waves of her orgasm approach. Mr Ashwell's fast-paced rhythm was spurring her clitoris into a frenzied climax of tingling sparks. Her pussy was filled so thoroughly that her most intimate of spots began to quake in delight. Louise lost control of her limbs, her thrashing body fighting against that of Mr Ashwell's as Louise crested the zenith of her orgasm. Exquisite streaks of wanton fire ran along every inch of her skin, culminating in a climax so strong it made her howl with animal lust. Mr Ashwell shuddered as Louise's quivering pussy cascaded sweet juices along his length. It felt like his cock was being sucked further into her divine form, milking him as she screamed her satisfaction. Feeling that familiar tightening in his scrotum he assaulted her creaming pussy with three hard, plunging jabs then tore his pulsating member out. It was as if there were elastic threads networked across his skin, all pulling inwards towards his cock with an irresistible attraction. Gripping himself tightly he erupted over Louise. A long, languid stream of thick cum shot from his tip and splurged over her buttocks. A second spurt jetted out and flew over the milky pale skin of her back and up, catching in her matted hair. Wanking furiously he drained the rest of his precious liquid over the flower of her anus and watched as it dripped down to her swollen lips. He stood, gasping for breath, as Louise lay flat on the desk amidst a filth of cum and sweat. She could feel his seed cooling quickly on her prickling skin, slimy between her damp legs. Drawing herself up she span around and sat on the desk, seeking out Mr Ashwell's eyes. He moved between her thighs and placed his hands on her face, still panting, and planted a kiss on her lips. Retreating, he reached to the coat stand and removed a large flannel gown, wrapping it around himself. "Well my pretty, I certainly can't complain at your performance. You did well to endure my advances without a tantrum." He wiped his forehead on a sleeve, his face flushed. "Let's hope you perform as admirably for Jim." He nodded towards the video camera, signalling for the porter. "But you said six lashes and my debts would be paid!" Louise sat on the desk, her jaw slack, stupefied. "You can't make me go to him now! We had a deal!" "I lied," said Mr Ashwell. "I am a cruel man, Louise, and I will do what I have to do to get what I want. Now hurry up my pretty, before you get cold." He reached down to pick up her uniform before throwing it to Louise on the desk. "No! No!" She broke down into huge, defeated sobs, her pretty features crumpling into her hands. Mr Ashwell laughed before unstoppering a decanter of whiskey from on the fireplace and pouring himself a measure. Footsteps, shuffling and heavy, approached from the direction of the stairs. Swilling the amber liquid in the crystal tumbler he smiled to himself before taking a well-deserved swig.