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Becky Gets It Ch. 01

By: cedarlooman



PROLOGUE ("Spare the rod, spoil the child"-Proverbs)

"There she goes again! How many times do I have to tell that girl to get off her phone during class? And we're only into the third week of the semester," the professor mused angrily.

"Becky!"

Nothing. 

"Becky Thrice!" 

"Yes, Professor Wilson?" She looked up with her big, brown doe eyes peering behind those full lashes, but always, always, somehow managing to pronounce my name in lowercase. 

"To think this little nymphet believes she is above it all, that any man is barely worthy of her elicitations, her barest speck of attention. It is galling, to say the least, but something needs to be done to drop that pedestal a few feet!" he thought. 

"Maybe you would mind sharing with the class what the basic tenet of Keynesian thought is?"

"Oh...well, professor," a bat of the eyes, a slow flick of the tongue along those full, lusciously red lips. "You know I meant to read the chapter, but I was so exhausted after my yoga classes yesterday..."she paused with a deep sigh that just naturally lifted those perfectly sloped and rounded C-cup breasts within her jogging top. Seriously, he had seen sports bras that had more material. "I went straight to bed and didn't get a chance to read it." 

And that smile, inwardly chuckling, knowing that she instantly had 90% of the males and more than a few of the ladies in the class imagining her in the Downward-Facing Dog, lifting her perfect posterior into the sky, arching her back ever so slightly while moving ever deeper into the stretch, inching ever so gently higher. Or Pranayama, lifting her arms, breathing deep from her diaphragm, lifting that bosom ever higher, then slowly exhaling and letting the exhale release all the tension, allowing everything to relax and yet still remain firmly in place and invitingly, teasingly protruding.

"Oh, something needs to be done and quickly, or this girl is going to be trouble," he surmised.

"Well, maybe you could let us all know what vitally important text messages you are rapidly conveying into the ether?" Light chuckles out of the rest of the class.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Ms. Thrice, I have been teaching longer than you have been alive. If you think I can't tell when a student is trying to hide their phone in their laps so they can text, you are greatly underestimating my powers of observation, or overestimating your own deviousness." Inwardly he thought, "Or are you hoping for my observations, holding your phone so near those perfect legs, the slightly protruding Mons, and the imaginably bare skin of her labia under those running Capri's. And never a panty line, does she go bare, or is it the tiniest of g-strings, or perhaps a T-bar?"

"Sorry, professor, it won't happen again," she replied reaching for her purse to slide the phone away. Finally a hint of respect in her tone!

"I know it won't, Miss Thrice, because I will be keeping it until my office hours later this afternoon."

"What? You can't do that!" 

"Oh, but I can. If you look in your student handbook and in the syllabus, which I have your signature on saying you read it thoroughly, that is exactly what I can do."

The look of surprise, shifting to anger, to horror, to confusion, and finally acceptance; all within a scant moment and then was that last flicker a look of determination? This is going to be an interesting meeting later. Giving in, she walked up to the front of the room and handed her phone over, with a demure, carefully apologetic expression on her face, returning to her seat looking all the world like a slightly abashed, attentive student. Is she doing that on purpose, that gently swaying side-to-side sashay, not enough to be slutty, just enough to draw the eyes and cause you to focus and pause?

"And let that serve as a warning to the rest of you. Anyone caught texting will surrender their phone."

The rest of the class was blessedly free of the faint tap-tapping sounds of fingers on number pads.

CHAPTER 1 ("Nothing happens unless first we dream" -Carl Sandburg)

When the rest of the department got moved into the Business College instead of the Sociology Department two years ago during the reorganization, they moved to the new Thomas More Business Building. Being rooted comfortably in the office he had occupied for well over a decade in Hanover Hall, he wasn't all that disappointed when he found out there weren't enough offices in the new building. His office was near enough to his classes that the walk was not difficult and the fact that his was now the only office on the 1st floor, the rest having been converted into storage areas and part-time offices for adjuncts, meant that he could work in relative privacy. The practice of playing music while grading and preparing lecture notes now wasn't a distraction for the other professors, and the relative isolation meant the volume could be as loud as he wanted, for the most part. Students visiting would often hear Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Grieg, or Wagner greeting them as they journeyed down the hall to his office in the back corner of the building.

The view was also stunning. His office looked away from campus and had a spectacular view of the County Park and woodland area that bordered the college. Stunning arrays of leaf changes to the view of the occasional deer or other wildlife really made up for having to walk to a different building for department meetings and classes. But the best part of the office was the size. It was once the Dean's office so it consisted of an outside vestibule and the inner office, where the desk and computer were, that was big enough to at one time have been used as a small conference room. Now it held a few small bookcases, a small wood table with chairs to accommodate meetings and advising sessions with students, and a large L-shaped desk with the computer in the corner. It was arranged so the long side was against the wall and the short side faced the door. This way the computer screen faced away from the door and he could easily see when someone entered the outer office on their way to see him. The outer office was just used now as a comfortable reading room with a small Queen Anne chair and an overstuffed sofa. There was a small refrigerator and a table with a coffee maker for those long nights of grading. The sofa had more than once doubled as a bed during finals week when grading was a little behind.

The grading, as usual at this point in the semester was getting to be tedious. Going through 150 papers on the relationship between Supply and Demand in Macro Economics was always an exercise in mental focus. 

"I swear to God if I see one more misdrawn Supply/Demand curve, I am going to flip out. Seriously, how hard can it be? As price goes up, demand goes down, and speaking of going down, here comes Miss Thrice. What is she wearing now?"

In the intervening hours since class, Becky had evidently gotten her workout in and was now wearing a short, white blouse open to the last two buttons, a plaid skirt so short that thirty years ago it would have gotten her kicked out of school, and what looked to be platform heels. He reached up and turned down the speakers, to make the conversation a little easier. A shame since Wagner's "Der Ring des Nibelungen" really needed to be played at a decent volume for full effect. 

"Miss Thrice, welcome to my office. I don't believe I have had the pleasure of hosting you before. Come on in and have a seat."

"Professor Wilson, I really just wanted to grab my phone, and get going back to my dorm so I could read that last chapter that I missed." Somewhat respectful again, she must really be trying to impress on him how much she has changed her tune.

"Nice try, girl, but I have heard that one before. I see you haven't really learned your lesson. We'll have to see what we can do to get this one to stick for a while," he considered.

"Well, Becky, since you are here; I thought we would take this opportunity to discuss your performance in this course. I took the liberty of pulling your progress report, and it appears this is not the only course you are having trouble staying focused in."

"Well, professor, you know how it is. I'm young, beautiful, and living life. Everything a twenty year-old is supposed to be doing at college," she smiled through those two rows of perfect white teeth.

"Young lady, that, unfortunately, is not 'everything' you are supposed to be doing at college. Unless you plan on being here for the sole purpose of finding a husband, your primary purpose is to get an education in a field that should allow you to find gainful employment when you graduate."

"But, Professor Wilson, I have passed every class so far, and I have A's in all my wellness courses!"

"Miss Thrice, with your level of fitness, I would be disappointed beyond my ability to comprehend if you got any less in a wellness class. D's in all of your rigorous courses are hardly what I would call adequate. And are you aware that to get admitted to your chosen program, you need a 2.25 average in your courses? You are currently carrying a 1.95 and that includes the A's you have in your wellness courses."

"I know, but I plan on raising that this semester. I am already working harder and have started studying more. I got the paper in on time for your class!"

"Let's just look at that shall we. I just happened to finish reading it before you arrived. 'Blah, blah, something copied directly out of the book, lacking citation, of course, and finally if enough people demand it they will supply it.' Really, do you think this demonstrates a dedication to the pursuit of a degree here at Knox College?"

"But..." 

"But, but, butt...that's it! I've got it, the one thing that may knock some sense into that brain of hers. The way she plays the other students, and tries to play me, is evidence that there is something in there that is capable of higher order thought. She just needs to be shocked into using it!" he schemed.

"Butt, Miss Thrice, is exactly what I was thinking. I have decided that if you are going to act like a spoiled little girl, you are going to be punished like a spoiled little girl. I have observed you in my class paying more attention to a hunk of plastic and metal than to me or any of the information that the makers of your little phone are intimately familiar. Yes, I think that will be a satisfactory reprimand...the only question now is how many there should be."

"I don't think you can do that, Professor?" 

"Ooohh, is that a crack in the armor? She actually looks like she is worried," he pondered. "But what was that look she gave? For a second it looked like she might, instead of worried, be pensive. Interesting."

"Oh, I believe I can. You want your phone. I want you to have an indelible memory to set you on the path to knowledge. How about you get one smack for every message you received during my class? Yes, that should be sufficient to convey a lesson."

"But, I had to have gotten a dozen messages during your class!"

"Actually, it was two dozen. That is relatively popular, but you must not have very informed friends. Don't they know they shouldn't distract you while you are learning? Yes, I think a spanking will be good for you and will give you enough incentive to carry the message back to your friends that your education is important to you and you don't wish to be bothered."

"Oh, please, Professor Wilson, I didn't mean to offend you. I promise it won't happen again." 

Standing there lips trembling, her eyes barely able to meet his for more than a second. Is she scared, or is it something else?

"Oh, I am sure, Becky, this will be a lesson that will be permanently imprinted into your memory. I just hope it will motivate you for a sufficient period of time to allow you to right your ship and actually graduate. Now, you will come over here and assume the position."

"Position? What do you mean? You aren't going to hurt me are you?"

"It may sting a little, but I assure you there will be no lasting marks or pain that will not fade. Now, surely you were spanked as a child? Becky, I mean for you to come over here and place yourself over my knees so as to allow for the proper measure of your punishment to be delivered."

"I don't know. I don't think this is legal."

"Well, you think it over then and come back after the weekend and give me another solution that will give you sufficient motivation to increase your attention to your studies, and I will return your phone at that time."

"But, no phone for the entire weekend? I need that phone, my friends, how will they reach me?"

"Aha! Her eyes, desperately roving over the room, were definitely not meeting mine. There is something going on in that head of hers, but I can see her resistance is gone, or nearly so," he perceived.

"It is your choice. Come over here, or leave and come back on Monday."

She considered it for a moment, and then made up her mind. Ah, the power of social connections over the willpower of America's youth. God bless the USA! As she moved around the desk, her expression changed from indecision and apprehension to resignation and, with that trembling lip, those quivering nostrils, was that excitement?

As she rounded the edge of the desk, h reached up and turned the volume up slightly. "Ah, 'Ride of the Valkyries'! The slow build to climax, the rising beat and tempo, could there be a more appropriate song for the moment? She has had this coming for quite some time," he thought.

She slowly prostrated herself across his lap, apprehensive and slow. 

"Come on Becky, the sooner we begin, the sooner you can be on your way to enjoying the weekend."

She moved forward, finally resting her incredibly firm quadriceps against the edge of the chair, her taut abdomen and lower breasts draped across his legs. As she settled in, the micro mini rose to expose the rounded edge of her tight buttocks, and revealed the light floral print of her thong that covered, barely, the curve of her full labia and moving into the hidden recess still covered by the skirt.

ONE! With a pleasing smack, the flat of his hand struck evenly across both full cheeks. This elicited a gasp from the now vulnerable Miss Thrice. She let out a stifled whimper. Was she pushing herself more firmly into his lap? She must be! Her skirt had now slid up to a point where no one could claim that it was providing any sort of decent cover over her lower half.

TWO! A little lower this time, striking the lovely crease where her magnificently shaped thighs met the tight semi-circle of her gluteus. "Was that a slight feel of fabric underneath my hand? This could get interesting!" he concluded.

THREE! Moving over to the side, he placed a solid smack solely on her left side with slight caress as he slid his hand back over to the other side in preparation of the next. The smooth slide and gentle caress of his fingers marked a stark contrast against the slight burning that remained from the most recent hand strike.

FOUR! Another solid connection fully on the right side now. Becky trembled and let out another gasp as he slid his full palm against her soft, supple skin; moving his hand once more to center. "This is starting out well. She seems to be handling it alright, and I do believe there is a slight odor of musk in the air. Well, well, Miss Thrice, it seems we have discovered one more surprising thing about you today," he surmised.

FIVE! Once more his hand came down. This time his aim took a turn into deviousness. His palm was aimed directly to strike between her legs at the juncture of her beautiful thighs that area colloquially referred to as the "Y". As his hand quickly applied judicious force and was removed with the barest, quickest tap, it was obvious that something was going on within the beautiful creature in his lap.

SIX! The odor of musk was clearly reaching his nose. The lovely woman-child in his lap let out another gasp, and there was definitely a tremble, possibly of anticipation, moving through her chest and abdomen. Ever so slowly the middle of that field of flowers became the slightest bit translucent as if it were slowly lifting an opaque fog to display the treasures hidden beneath.

SEVEN! A good hard connection, fingers spread, providing five independent stings across her buttocks, eliciting a slightly louder yelp, followed by a small, almost inaudible whimper of pain, or was it pleasure, or both?

EIGHT! The wetness was definitely starting to spread across the minute fabric patch of her thong. "Oh my, what a deliciously naughty little girl; she has probably subconsciously desired this punishment, this domination, in retribution for her attitude and condescension for some time," he guessed.

NINE! This one was higher, almost reaching the small of her back, the edge of his hand just touching the tops of her glutes. The skirt now was bunched at her hips, fully exposing the straps of her thong. Her body had really been squirming over the last five minutes as the punishment was carefully and calculatingly meted out upon the tight young gooseflesh of her perfect backside.

TEN! Another spread finger strike, this one a little off center, so the fingertips of his index fingers lightly struck the now moist triangle of her thong. There was no question now. The tart was actually getting off on her punishment!

"Miss Thrice, it appears you have soiled your undergarments. This is most unacceptable. You will now remove them to prevent further the rough, wet fabric from chafing my fingers as I apply your punishment."

"Wha...what? Professor, I think you must be mistaken. What are you talking about? You can't make me do that."

"Becky, child, you are right. I cannot make you do that. You may rise and make yourself presentable and see yourself out. I will do my best to determine another suitable punishment for Monday, when you may once more seek to retrieve your phone."

The light of realization, acceptance, and arousal flashed across her features. Then with feigned resignation, and remaining in position, she slowly slid that tiny piece of translucent material over her glutes, gently over those magnificent, sculpted thighs, past the hollow of her knees, and gently dropping them past the rounded curve of her taut calves to finally rest nestled amongst those perfectly pedicured toes. With a light, quick movement she stepped her left foot out, and then kicked them under the desk with her right and settled back into place or nearly so. 

The nymphet took the opportunity to adjust her legs. Those long curved, stretching impossibly long legs; toned and maintained by years of athletics and yoga. She placed her knees wide and her toes tucked in underneath, causing her to settle in even more firmly into his lap while causing the slightest separation to appear between her now glistening outer labia.

ELEVEN! TWELVE! THIRTEEN! FOURTEEN! Taking advantage of the momentary distraction and the opportunity presented by that lovely sight now peeking ever so slightly from that beautiful juncture, the next four blows arrived in quick succession, with just his fingers providing small, sharp stings to the now engorged lips extending past the gentle curve of her lower buttocks. He was rewarded with a short gasping intake of breath followed by a loud moan of ecstasy brought about by the intense combination of pain and pleasure arriving so quickly that the nerves barely had a chance to register, let alone recover from the first before the next arrived. Becky's breathing now resembled less the controlled breathing of a yoga master, and more the panting lamentations of someone approaching rapture.

To enhance the unpredictability of the ministrations, he now allowed his fingertips to lightly stroke across the lovely rounds of her now slightly red and plumply inviting cheeks, following no particular pattern, and occasionally following the trace of a finger mark, moving in small and expanding circles. He allowed them to move near, but never actually touch the pink, flushed edges of her luscious full lips. As he got nearer, Becky shifted slightly; trying to move closer, to try and get the slightest brush against the center of her arousal.


Becky Gets It Ch. 02



Professor Wilson finally got fed up with the constant texting and attitude from Becky, an attractive coed in his Economics class, and took her phone away. While waiting for her to show up during his office hours, he had a delicious daydream about punishing her. She arrived and interrupted his reverie...

****

CHAPTER 2 

("Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?"—Robert Browning)

"Well, Becky, since you are here, I thought we would take this opportunity to converse about your performance at the college. I took the liberty of pulling your progress report, and it appears this is not the only course you are having trouble staying focused in."

"I know, professor," she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, causing her blouse to open and provide a more than modest view of those firm breasts, held back by the smallest of demi-bras. 

"It's just that it is so hard, trying to get everything done. I do show up to class and get my assignments done. I am sure there is more I could be doing to improve my grade." 

This last was stated as she peered through her deep black eyelashes, lower lip caught between her teeth, and her hand just happening to catch the edge of her shirt as she lifted it to push her shoulder length hair back behind her ear; providing even more access to the magnificent view within. Oh, this is definitely going to be an enjoyable day! 

"I'm sure if we put our...uh...heads together, we could come up with some way to improve your grade."

"Oh, thank you, professor," she smiled. "Do you have any ideas?" 

She leaned back in the chair, exposing her midriff once more, and in the process slid forward causing her barely there skirt to slide up her amazingly shaped thighs and exposing a tiny pink G-string that matched the color of her bra.

"Well, I might, but let's hear what you might do... err, have in mind."

"I was thinking that I could maybe come here after your office hours once a week and get some private...tutoring." 

Her hand somehow made it down to her lap and rested perched just above the edge of her miniskirt as she was saying this, her fingers running lightly along the edge as if to emphasize the view that was no longer hidden by the skimpy article. 

"I am sure I would gobble up anything that you were willing to share with me." She smiled that Cheshire grin, displaying those perfect teeth and ran her tongue along the top row and her upper lip, exposing the base of her tongue stud.

"Well now." 

The professor stood up and approached the nymphet on the other side of the desk. Becky immediately leaned forward in anticipation. She licked her lips as he approached and peered coquettishly up at him. The next few moments reeled forward in his mind... 

----

She reached for his belt when he got near, deftly sliding it open and releasing his pants in two quick movements. The beautiful coed leaned forward and lightly caressed his bulge through his underwear gently teasing him and bringing him to full hardness. As the space became constricted, she freed his organ from its cloth imprisonment and with both hands encircled the shaft, rubbing the engorged head with her thumbs. 

Lightly stroking with one hand while with the other she undid the final two buttons of her blouse, she finally gave him a full view of that barely adequate bra. He reached forward and with one hand deftly undid the front clasp. Becky removed her hand only briefly as he reached forward to slide the garments over her shoulders to lie on the chair.

Before they even settled, the nymphet hungrily gulped down his entire shaft in one quick movement, opening her throat to allow him to slide all the way into her mouth and throat. She then quickly released it and proceeded to lick her way up the shaft, while lightly running her nails across his scrotum. Like a starving girl given an ice cream cone in the middle of a heat wave, she continued with her ministrations for a few moments alternating between licks along the shaft, to teasing the head with her tongue ring, and swallowing his entire cock down her open throat. While she was occupied with this, Wilson made use of the available access to those perfect, firm breasts defying gravity as they heaved with every intake of breath.

Within a couple minutes of this treatment, he knew there was no holding back. He grabbed the back of her head as she was deep throating him and pulled her close as he pushed deep into her face, burying the head at the back of her throat. He was rewarded with a slight grunt and the intense pleasure of her tongue ring moving along the underside of his shaft buried in the soft confines of her mouth, while her tonsils firmly grasped the head of his twitching cock. With a deep grunt, he released his first salvo down her throat and let go of her hair. 

She rewarded him by reaching forward and milking him for every drop she could get. The next few shots landed on her breasts as she repositioned herself before him. She caught the rest in her mouth and then proceeded to give his slowly deflating shaft a tongue bath, getting every last drop. As he slowly stepped back, he was once more rewarded, this time with the view of her slowly scraping the gobs of his ejaculate from her breasts with her fingers and licking them clean!

Temporarily sated, it was his turn to sample the wares placed before him. As she finished licking her fingers clean, he moved forward to expose the luscious flower barely hidden by the scant fabric of her G-string and miniskirt. He wasted no time pushing her miniskirt to circle her hips and moved to slide down the cloth wrapping surrounding the lotus of his desire. 

As he bent closer, he noticed she had soaked through her panties and her musky scent filled his nostrils. He lightly played with her through the rough, wet fabric as a slight moan escaped her lips. It was a simple matter to pull that tiny thong over her gorgeous legs and allowing it to drop to the floor. 

All barriers removed, he dove into the luscious feast before him. Lightly running his tongue along her outer labia, he teased with light flicks towards the juncture at the top of her vulva. Slowly inserting first one and then a second finger into her moist, tight and inviting pussy, he lightly stroked in and out while flicking her pearlescent clitoris with his tongue. 

As aroused as she was after servicing him, it didn't take long before she was quivering in her seat, grabbing the back of his head and burying his jaw against her now spasming twat. With a last guttural moan, Becky bathed her professor's face with a slight gush of release. Hungrily lapping her nectar, he quickly sent her into a body shaking orgasm that left her panting before him as he slowly lowered her spent body to the floor.

----

When he actually reached her, events did not play out as he had seen in his mind's eye. She did not immediately lean forward, although she did have a look of hunger and arousal in her eyes. He bent down lowering his face to hers. Looking her directly in the eye, he said, "Miss Thrice, do you think..."

"Yes, professor," she blinked at him, licking her lip in anticipation.

"Do you think you could...?"

"Anything professor!" she breathed huskily.

"Do you think you could study?"

"WHAT?"

This startled retort was all the proof that he needed. This little tramp was going to try to bribe him into letting her pass by offering her body to him, and she thought he would easily go along with it. Admittedly, it was a very nice body. He had no small amount of curiosity about how much and what she would be willing to do. Teaching as long as he had, there was no shortage of stories around campus of professors that did just that for other pretty little things. However, the desire to teach this girl a lesson far outweighed the base impulses of his libido.

"Miss Thrice, I cannot believe you came in here actually thinking that I would be dumb enough to consent to some sort of sexual favor in exchange for modifying your grade. That sort of behavior would almost certainly result in my losing my job if anyone were to discover the indiscretion."

"Oh no, professor, that would never happen. It could hurt you, but I could be expelled just as easily. I don't know what I meant. I just thought of it while I was walking to your office. You know about all the stories that are out there..."

The girl was actually beginning to tear up. It was now obvious that as she said she had not fully thought it through and had hoped somehow that he would be horny enough to just take her up on her offer. As he watched her and realized the shortsightedness of her thinking, a plan began to form. He just needed to get her a little more scared and then offer her a tempting solution. Resting his hand on her shoulder, he squeezed gently to bring her focus back to him.

"Becky, it is just that serious. I could have you put before the ethics committee based on that confession you just made."

Her eyes grew wide as the implications of that statement sunk fully into her brain. The ethics committee may not expel her, but there would certainly be a public write up in the school paper and some form of censure or grade point modification. He knew her parents were part of the "elite" in the small town that Becky was from and the notice itself, let alone disclosure of the transgression, would be enough to shame them for years. Watching her sit and tremble slightly, he could tell these were the exact thoughts that were running through her mind. If she wished to continue with the cash flow from her parents, she would have to avoid that at all costs.

"Oh, Professor Wilson, please don't do that. What can I do to avoid that? It would be devastating to my parents," she sobbed.

"Well, Becky, as I asked a moment ago, are you willing to study? I am still concerned about your academic progress and, after all, I am a teacher. I think I have a way we can work to bring focus to your life and enable you to improve those grades of yours."

"You mean you won't turn me in to the ethics council?" Her look was now slightly pleading and hopeful.

"As long as I feel you are making satisfactory progress in the training plan I will devise for you, I see no need for that unfortunate business to commence," he smiled gently.

"Oh thank you, thank you professor! I will work extra hard to make sure I improve my grade in your class."

"I am sure you will, Becky, but I think we can expand the focus beyond just my class. I think I have an idea we can use to help you in all areas of your future here at school and beyond. You mentioned coming in for extra lessons during office hours. Admittedly I think you had more, shall we say *naughty* intentions, but the idea still has merit."

"So, you're saying you will tutor me one-on-one?" she asked tentatively.

"I will offer my services to train you. I think we will start with your first lesson right now. We have been talking for a little while now. Do you recall the reason you are here?"

"I came to get my cell phone back," she stated matter-of-fact.

"You are partially correct. You came to get your phone back but also to be disciplined for disturbing class. The first lesson you need to learn is that there are consequences for your actions. Some are positive, some are negative," he gently lectured while resting a hand on her shoulder to make sure she was focusing on his voice. "We just need to determine the severity of the punishment to ensure the lesson is learned."

She looked up at him, vulnerable and unsure, but with a glint of determination and challenge as she was continuing to regain her composure. "I really don't think it was that serious of an issue, professor."

"Becky, if we were talking only about the phone you would probably be correct. The loss of contact for the last several hours would probably have sufficed. However, you compounded the issue and hence increased the need for discipline with your efforts to try to seduce me."

"But, professor, you just told me you wouldn't report me to the ethics committee if I agreed to your training plan, which I just did. I don't understand what you mean by punishment."

"Miss Thrice," he smiled. "I am referring to one of the tried and true methods of punishment in academia, corporal punishment. You are too young to remember, but in the past it was used quite often for any manner of transgressions in educational institutions."

Her eyes widened as the idea of what that might mean started to dawn on her. "Are you talking about a spanking? Is that even legal?"

He smiled warmly. "Of course it is legal. Two consenting adults can do quite a lot that would be against the rules if done in a classroom setting. And technically it is probably more likely to be a paddling than a spanking."

A contemplative look came across her features as she subtly shifted in her seat, perhaps imagining what that would feel like on her bottom. She cast her eyes around the room perhaps looking for the instrument that would be used for her punishment. 

"What do you mean by 'more likely'?"

"I am feeling generous this afternoon since you obviously regret your earlier efforts, so I am willing to allow you some choice in the manner and duration of your punishment. I will give you options regarding implement and position, either of which may increase or decrease the duration. Spankings are administered with the hand, whereas a paddling involves the use of some sort of object. For example, a paddle, as the name implies. " He could not help stringing the explanation along teasing the girl and building the suspense in her mind.

"So, let me get this straight. You are going to spank, err, paddle me with something, but I get to choose what you use? And this could affect how long it takes?"

"Yes and no. You may choose the object from a selection I give you, and then your choice will impact the number of strikes I give you, not necessarily how long it takes to deliver them." He was really starting to enjoy this, and it seemed from her questions she was definitely opening up to the idea. She just needed a little more not-so-subtle reminding of what was at stake. "Of course if you decide not to go through with it, I could always remove myself from the situation completely and allow the committee to evaluate your behavior." 

The mention of the committee had the desired effect as her eyes shot wide open in fear once more at the reminder of who held all the power in their arrangement. She looked thoughtful for a minute, although the result was never really in doubt, and came to a decision.

"Alright, professor, but..."

"Yes, Miss Thrice?"

She squirmed a little uncomfortably in her seat. "I know this is a punishment and everything, but I need to know that it won't really hurt me. I mean, I do have my fitness classes and will be seeing my friends this weekend, and I really don't want them to find out about this. Will there be marks that I have to try to explain?"

"Becky, you are correct. It is a punishment, but I understand your desire for privacy in this matter. It is why I offered this as a possible solution. I promise you I will only be striking your buttocks and thighs and while it should sting sufficiently to remind you of your transgressions, any marks should fade by tomorrow and if any do remain they will be simple bruises that could easily be explained or covered with makeup if you so desire."

The explanation seemed to satisfy her as she visibly relaxed in the chair. Knowing she really had no choice if she wanted to maintain her support from her parents, the knowledge that her punishment would not become public either had to be relieving. As the professor watched, her shoulders relaxed and her posture became more one of interest than fear. Fully accepting her situation, the coed now seemed to fully realize what was about to happen to her. 

"Okay, professor," she ran her tongue across her bottom lip nervously. A brief, hesitant smile and then she said, "I think I am ready to hear the options you have for me."

"Keep in mind these, as well as the chosen position, will affect the number of strikes you receive. Therefore, I will list them for you in descending order. The first, and therefore having the most strikes, is a traditional spanking with my hand. Your second option is a common ruler, a favorite in parochial schools. Next is a belt, folded over like you might have felt when you were a child getting a paddling from your father. Finally, if you look over at the wall next to my desk, you will see a traditional paddle. That one happens to be eighteen inches long from its tip to the bottom of the handle with twelve inches of striking length, and it is six inches wide. It is made from maple wood and is three-quarters of an inch thick. The handle is leather wrapped to prevent slippage during use."

As he recited the list, he watched Becky closely. While speaking of the increasingly powerful instruments, he was aware of her subtle shifts in body language. During the litany, Becky lightly bit her lip and leaned forward ever so slightly in greater interest to his words. The mention of the ruler brought a slight clenching of the hands, which rested on the tops of her thighs as she listened intently. Her ankles were crossed with her knees ever so slightly spread. At the mention of the belt, her mouth opened in a tiny "o" and her long shapely legs moved to close as she lifted her right leg over the left to sit with legs crossed at the knee. She rocked back slightly as her eyes found the paddle, and he could see her breaths quicken and her thighs ever so slightly begin moving against each other as her hands moved to her lap resting right at the juncture of her legs.

"Are you sure that wouldn't leave any marks? It looks so big and hard and...oh, I don't know." 

As she was talking her hands unconsciously clenched and pressed into her lap applying pressure to her mons through her skirt as her legs continued their minute sawing against each other.

He smiled as he explained, "Miss Thrice, in the hands of someone who doesn't know what they are doing, I can almost guarantee a mishap resulting in severe bruising at the least. I assure you I have mastered its use and will be able to control it to inflict exactly the amount of force I want it to and to ensure it will punish, but not damage you in any way."

"And if I choose it, it will have the lowest number of spanks?"

"Yes, since it causes the most intense stimulation with each strike, it will be the implement that will require the fewest to measure out your punishment properly." He made sure to meet her eyes as he was saying this to emphasize the weight behind his words. "In addition I will allow you to choose your position to receive the strikes. There are three that are acceptable for any of the implements and a fourth that I will allow if you choose an actual bare hand spanking. As I did with the implements, in order of descending duration, your choices are thus. You may choose to place yourself prone over the arm of my sofa. Your second option is standing at the wall in the police 'pat down' position with your hands on the wall above your head and your feet spread shoulder width apart. The third position is the down position. In this position you are on your knees with your buttocks raised, your forearms on the floor with your hands touching making a diamond or triangle with your thumbs and forefingers and your head resting on the backs of your hands." 

"Those don't sound too bad, professor, but what is the fourth position, the one that is only for the bare hand spanking?"

He smiled.

"Why the traditional across the lap spanking position, of course!"

"You mean I would lie across your lap?" She asked wide-eyed. It was hard to tell if it was from excitement or surprise, but it seemed her hands were now moving in time with the seesawing of her legs.




Becky Gets It Ch. 02



"Yes Miss Thrice, I would be seated and you would place yourself across my lap so I could spank you. Since this position involves the use of my hand, and not an implement, it would also result in you receiving the greatest number of strikes. I will give you a few moments to ponder while I go close and secure the outer door."

As he turned away, he saw her eyes slide down to his thighs as a thoughtful expression touched her face. As he left the inner office and strode to the outer door to the hall, he heard her shift in her chair and then her soft footsteps as she got up and walked to the entry between rooms to get a better look at the sofa. She must have made up her mind about it one way or the other quickly because by the time he reached the door and began turning the lock, her footsteps resumed and faded as she moved deeper into his office. After setting the lock, he turned around and was not surprised to see her approaching the paddle hanging on the wall. As he watched her during his short walk back she reached up and almost reverently ran her fingers along the face and then around the leather lace on the handle.

He paused in the entry to watch as she slowly traced her fingers along the outside edge of the slightly worn, but well cared for wood. He could see the softly muted reflection of her eyes as she traced the grain and followed the path of her fingers with her gaze. The deep honey linseed oil finish gave an even greater depth to her gaze. 

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" He commented softly from the doorway.

"Yes, it is," she softly replied. Then as if realizing what she had just said she blushed and quickly stammered, "Oh, I mean, it is I guess if you are into nice wood-crafts."

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean Becky. Do you have any questions?"

"Well, you haven't told me how many hits, err, I mean strikes, there will be."

"The spanking with the hands will be 75 strikes and they will decrease by 15 as I go down the list. Are you ready to make your choice?"

"Yes, I think I know, professor." She looked at him, her gaze pausing on his hands relaxed at his sides and then trailing across his thighs, then turned her head to peer once more at the paddle. "I can definitely say no to the ruler and the belt. I think your hands would hurt the least, but I just want to get this over with, so I am going to choose the paddle."

"Yes, I can definitely see those are the arguments you used to make the decision," he smiled as he thought to himself. Aloud he said, "Alright, the paddle it is. Which of the three positions do you choose?"

"How much difference will there be in the number of hits between the three?"

"If you choose the sofa it will be 30 strikes. The wall will be 25 and the down position will have a total of 20 strikes."

He watched as she considered. He originally thought she would immediately go for the down position since it was similar to yoga poses and would be relatively short in duration. Now after seeing her admiring the paddle and, though she may deny it, that is exactly what she had been doing, he was not sure. He could see her weighing in her mind the war between her curiosity and arousal, subtle though it was, and her logical desire to just get it over with and get on with her plans for the weekend.

"I will use the standing position, professor."

"Alright, standing it will be then." He hid his partial surprise at her choice to go with the slightly longer punishment. "You may place your shoes under one of the chairs next to the table and place your neatly folded clothes on top of them and then assume the position against the wall over there."

"What do you mean place my neatly folded clothes on the chair, professor?"

"I mean exactly what I stated, Miss Thrice. You will remove your clothes and place them in a neatly folded pile on one of the chairs next to the table."

"But, professor, you didn't say anything about being naked! I'm not going to strip down nude in front of you." As she was speaking, her lip quivered slightly, but her pupils were dilating, indicating that she was not really angry. He noticed that her hands stayed at her hips where they had been the entire time they had been talking and knew for certain she would eventually be a completely willing participant in the training. Anyone truly outraged at getting naked would subconsciously cover his or her "private areas" even though still fully clothed.

"Well, Miss Thrice, do you forget what you were originally offering when you came to me? You implied you were willing to do all sorts of things naked. However, it is still your choice. At any time, you may choose not to receive the punishment I am offering and leave to face the decision of the ethics committee." 

"But you never said anything about being naked! Can't I at least keep my underwear on? Please professor, I am not trying to be difficult..."

He smiled indulgently. "Alright, Becky, since this is your first time receiving a paddling from me and, you were not prepared prior to arriving, I will allow you to retain your undergarments during the punishment. However, in the future, you must be prepared that any punishment dealt in the future will be done while you are nude. If you agree to these terms, you may stay and assume the position as directed. If not, you may gather your things, leave and return Monday with a suitable alternative punishment or be prepared to face the Ethics Committee."

He watched as his words were received. To her credit, she didn't flinch away or cower. She wasn't defiant but intently listening and thinking about the choice she had to make. He almost smiled when her eyes traveled to the paddle hanging on the wall when he mentioned future punishments. He knew he had won when she cast her eyes down at the mention of leaving.

"I understand, professor. Thank you." 

She slipped off her shoes and began unbuttoning her blouse. Seeing her beginning to comply with his wishes, he went to the wall and retrieved the paddle. It really was a beautiful instrument. It wasn't just because of the deep grains of the all-natural wood and its honey toned color with the sharp contrast of the deep brown of the leather strands wrapping the handle. It was perfectly fitted to his hand and balanced with a weighted handle to reduce the tension and torque on his arm while he was using it. As well-crafted as it was, he could literally use it for an hour straight with very little arm fatigue.

As he turned around, he was greeted with the sight of the lithe young coed as she finished undressing by dropping her miniskirt, allowing it to slide down her legs and then stepping out of it. She bent at the waist to pick it up, showing her great flexibility by not bending her knees at all. She gently folded it over and then placed it neatly on the chair with her neatly folded blouse. She then stood, reached her arms over her head and stretched her torso. The professor watched and had to admit the girl had a magnificent figure. As she stretched cat-like, her chest pushed forward, back arched, and firm derriere curved outward. Her body took on that perfect S-curve of the idyllic female form. As the stretch moved through her body, she gently rose on her tiptoes causing her thighs to firm and the backs of her calves to form a perfect little heart of muscle. As she let herself release from the stretch, she caught sight of Professor Wilson watching her. She blushed slightly, but to her credit made no move to cover herself at all, even though now she was clothed only in a matching pink demi-bra and G-string thong.

"I'm ready now, professor."

"Alright, Becky, I think your undergarments are small enough not to interfere with your punishment. There may be some chafing if it slides under the strike of the paddle, but I don't think it will be much of an issue. I assume this is the first time you have endured a punishment like this?"

"Yes, professor, I never even really got spanked much when I was a little girl."

"Well, I will give you some instruction to aid you. You will be standing facing the wall with your hands braced at or slightly above your head against the wall to help support yourself. Your legs should be shoulder-width apart with your knees slightly flexed, not locked. This will help to prevent fainting. Please move into position."

As she moved to the wall and assumed the position, he continued his instructions. "You should relax and try not to anticipate the blows. Tensing your muscles will cause the pain to be much more intense and increase the likelihood of bruising. Now, I am not a sadist, and different people have different tolerances for pain. I will control the pace and intensity of the strikes, but will ask you to nod after each blow to indicate you are ready for the next one. I will also during this session only be striking your buttocks and thighs."

As he said this, he lightly tapped her firm buttocks, the back of her thighs and the gluteal fold at the juncture of the two. With each micro-blow a slight shiver ran through her legs, and after the third her breathing had quickened and a slight scattering of goose-pimples appeared on her arms and legs. He then moved into position behind and to her left so he could strike with his right arm. 

"I will keep my left hand in contact at all times, to help support you should you faint, but also to make sure the blows are not too forceful." He placed his left hand first on her left shoulder and then gently ran it down her back and then slowly and smoothly around to her stomach just above her navel. He smiled to himself as he was rewarded with a slight sigh from Becky. "When you are ready to begin, please nod your head."

Becky drew in a deep breath through her nose, held it for a beat or two and then slowly let it out of her mouth. He felt her abdomen tighten underneath his hand then as she took another breath and let it out, he felt her begin to relax a little. After a third and fourth cycle, he realized she was centering herself using Yoga breathing techniques. After she released the fifth deep breath, she held it and nodded her head quickly to signal her readiness.

ONE! There was a slight sharp crack that was quickly dulled as the paddle connected firmly with her ass. The strike was measured to be firm enough to get her attention, but probably was not even forceful enough to redden the skin. He left the paddle in contact with her skin after the blow to soften the sting slightly. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp when the blow landed, but her abs barely tensed indicating it was merely surprise and not any real pain. She nodded very soon after the blow landed. He removed the paddle and waited for a few heartbeats.

TWO! This strike was about double the force of the first, but still not as hard as most child spankings. Again, there was a slight tensing, but not one indicating a lot of pain. He watched her face intently as she continued her breathing exercise and nodded.

THREE! He again increased the force of the swing. This time she squirmed slightly under the paddle after the hit and her abdomen tensed up. She closed her eyes and took a couple more deep breaths before nodding again. Seeing this and wanting her to build up slowly, he prepared to deliver the next blow.

FOUR! He aimed this blow to connect solely with the right cheek. He kept the force the same as the previous, not wanting to overload her by changing too many things at once. She again tensed and breathed deep before nodding again.

FIVE! He moved to a strike on the left cheek this time and could see a slight reddening beginning to appear from the earlier strikes. She again tensed slightly at the blow but recovered quickly. Knowing she had some discomfort, he slowly moved his left hand from her stomach to her back and then slowly and gently massaged her rouged cheeks to reduce the sting. There was a slight tensing under his hand when he first moved over the top of her G-string, but then as the rubbing helped to sooth the pain, she relaxed rather quickly. She did turn and look at him when he first moved his hand, but not seeing anything on her face to cause concern, she soon nodded her readiness for the next blow.

SIX! He once more struck both cheeks, but moved the paddle lower on her buttocks. She must have been getting used to this level because she nodded very soon after receiving it.

SEVEN! He hit the same area again deciding to build on the sensation there for a couple hits. She tensed slightly, but it felt almost like she was pressing forward against his hand increasing the pressure rather than reacting to the blow. As he watched her face waiting for the next nod, her breathing remained in the same in-through-the-nose, out-through-the-mouth rhythm. She turned and looked at him, and he could see her pupils had begun to dilate, and she gave him a slight smile before nodding again.

EIGHT! He placed this strike lower across the back of her thighs, eliciting a slight yelp from the pretty coed. She sagged forward slightly against his hand as her legs were not prepared for the blow. She caught herself easily though and soon was nodding again.

NINE! Back to the soft, firm flesh of her young tight bottom. Still he had not increased the force of the strikes, but he was surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw that he had just delivered all those blows in less than 2 minutes. It seemed Miss Thrice was not having much difficulty taking the punishment. He glanced back to her face and saw her lips formed a slight smile as she nodded again.

TEN! Another strike to both buttocks and she let out a slight moan. Her breathing kept the same rhythm but was now deeper drawing all the way in with her diaphragm, and, as he moved his hand up her abdomen to rest against the base of her sternum, he could feel her heartbeat as a rapid thrumming in her chest. She turned towards him again, and he could see her eyes were glassy and slightly unfocused. She nodded, and through her clenched teeth and tight smile he could just make out, "Please..."

"She has gone into sub-space!" he thought. 

Now that he was aware, he looked and saw that she had in fact given herself over completely into submissiveness. Her nipples poked at the slight fabric covering them, and, as his eyes raced over her body, he could now see that the small pink triangle of her thong had developed a slightly darker hue at the outline of her labia. The girl had become completely aroused by her punishment and was now in a state of endorphin-induced euphoria.

ELEVEN! Now that she had proven herself able to take the punishment, the next blow was slightly more forceful. She nodded quickly, almost before he had gotten his arm back into position.

TWELVE! He again moved to strike just the one cheek. He could hear shortly after the soft smack of the paddle a soft moan escape from between her lips. He again moved his hand to her lower abdomen and felt the supple muscles beneath. He gently massaged his way down until his hand rested at the top of her mons just above the fabric of her thong. Becky glanced down and he expected her to snap out of her near-trance and ask him just what he thought he was doing, but she just nodded vigorously and said quietly, "Yes, again... please!" 

THIRTEEN! Another sharp crack as he struck the fleshy orbs of her gluteus once more. He was rewarded with another gasp as the change in location and direction pulled her ever so slightly back, her legs clenching slightly with the unexpectedly firmer blow. He watched her reactions closely now, not wanting to have her go so far under that she fainted. Her breathing was still measured and steady; her body relaxed, but still supporting herself fully. Her hands slid down the wall a bit and were now even with her head, but still looked to be causing no discomfort. As he continued his visual examination, he could see that her engorged labia were stretching at the bonds of fabric holding them in as a slight musky scent of arousal reached his nose. She nodded again.

FOURTEEN! He decided to place the next blow right at the gluteal folds, where the force of it would resonate through not only her legs and buttocks, but also send a shock through her now thoroughly aroused sex. He was rewarded with a deep moan and guttural, low, "Yes! More....please? I've been so bad." As she said this, Becky was looking right in his eyes and nodding vigorously, pleading with her eyes as well as her mouth.

FIFTEEN! There was a sharp crack as the blow landed directly in the middle of her ass, striking both cheeks firmly. She inhaled sharply and squirmed against his hand that still rested against her lower abdomen. She worked at refocusing her breathing, but it was now becoming more deep gasps of arousal than the tightly focused breaths she had started with. Before nodding, Becky surprised him by moving her legs back and further apart, causing her rear to push back further, and at the same time opening up her legs and slightly exposing the damp fabric of her G-string.

SIXTEEN! Taking advantage of the adjusted position, he struck lower on her glutes where the paddle would strike not only her ass but as they compressed under the blow, her labia would also get some contact. Becky gasped in surprise, and then let out a low moan as she quivered under his hand. As he moved his hand around to gently massage away some of the sting on her now red cheeks, he leaned close to make sure she was not going too deep and asked, "Are you okay, Miss Thrice? Do you need to slow down?"

"No, professor, I don't want you to slow down. Please, keep going..."

SEVENTEEN! Seeing that she was well into sub-space but still cognizant, he decided to mix things up again. Returning his hand to her upper abdomen to help provide support, he delivered the next strike to the backs of her thighs. She gasped and her breathing became ragged for a couple moments as a small tear squeezed from her left eye. However, she quickly nodded after her breathing returned to normal.

EIGHTEEN! He struck the left cheek firmly with the paddle bringing her attention back to her well-rouged ass. He pulled back and waited for her nod.

NINETEEN! He delivered a solid blow squarely across the middle of her ass and was rewarded with a sharp crack and a gasp from Becky. Her breathing was coming in deep gasps and her eyes were full of arousal, deep in sub-space. She was covered in a light sheen of sweat, but, despite the heat from her body, her arousal had her nipples completely engorged and easily visible as they pushed against the fabric of her pink bra. The sharp contrast of her flushed skin and pink bra only served to draw more attention to the dark peaks that threatened to burst through the fabric. Heaving breaths caused her bosom to swell and recede as she nodded once more.

TWENTY! His arm swung again, only now moving the paddle slightly lower, closer to her barely covered vulva. As it struck, he followed the bounce of her supple flesh with her eyes, now drawn back to the dark pick wetness of the now drenched G-string. The low moans and heaving breaths were now in a constant quickening pitch and frequency. As she began nodding, she removed one of her hands from the wall and moved it as if to begin fondling her breasts. Noting this, and not desiring to allow this nymph to climax too soon, he grabbed her wrist before it could reach its destination.

"What do you think you are doing, Miss Thrice? You are being punished! You will not touch yourself unless I give you permission to do so!" he said firmly as he stared into those lust-filled eyes. "Further, you will not allow yourself to orgasm without first asking and then receiving my consent. Do you understand?"

"Yes, professor," she moaned. "Please...another?"

TWENTY-ONE! He swung harder, increasing the force of the blow once more. She let out a deep, guttural moan. "Mmmm...harder!"




Becky Gets It Ch. 02



TWENTY-TWO! He granted her desire, striking her gluteal folds with another more forceful hit. As he watched, he could see the paddle solidly connecting in unison with her engorged labia and the soft folds of her lower gluteus. His efforts were rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and a slight squeal that was quickly muffled as she bit her lip in ecstasy. Her nod now resembled a constant bobbing as the coed's embrace of the pain increased.

TWENTY-THREE! His hand rose nearly to his shoulder and came down with the paddle across the plump middle of her now arched posterior. The blow came with sufficient force to elicit a gasp of surprise and pain from the now thoroughly entranced beauty. Her midriff collapsed against his supporting hand as the shock of the sensation caused her legs to slip out from beneath her, removing what little support they had been providing. Her face was now a paroxysm of bewilderment. A slight tear once more escaped from the corner of her eye. To build on the jumble of conflicting and confusing sensations, he moved his hand down and lightly massaged the juncture of quadriceps and gluteus, again allowing his fingers to come teasingly close to her sex, now beading her G-string with her own musk. She regained her footing and once more nodded her consent and desire for more.

TWENTY-FOUR! Knowing he couldn't increase the force of the blows without leaving marks that would probably bruise for quite some time, he decided to simply continue with another blow to the fleshy globes of her ass. It was another solid blow and brought her visibly to the edge of surrender to her approaching orgasm. Her calves and thighs clenched as Becky simultaneously tried to press her mons and lower abdomen against his supporting hand, but fighting back the approaching orgasm that he had not yet given permission to achieve.

TWENTY-FIVE! He delivered the final blow of this punishment session in much the same as the first. It was a very light strike barely enough to register compared with the last several he had delivered. Becky turned her head and locked eyes with him. "Please..."

"Miss Thrice, you have endured your punishment admirably especially for someone new to the experience. I am feeling generous and you may now recline on the couch and bring yourself to release if that is still your desire."

"Yes, professor, thank you, sir."

She moved quickly to the couch and in her heightened arousal completely abandoned the inhibitions displayed earlier. So urgent in her need for release, she didn't even remove the cloth coverings of her undergarments. One hand moved to her breasts massaging and tweaking her nipples through the fabric. It roamed back and forth applying pressure to her breasts through her bra, shifting the cloth back and forth across her nipples, rubbing and abrading the erect areolae. She would briefly pause to pinch and twist first one or the other nipple, causing a slight gasp from the self-inflicted torture.

Her other hand dove to the dark pink wetness covering her pussy and vigorously rubbed up and down against the patch of fabric hiding her clitoris. She grabbed the top of the tiny undergarment and pulled it tight causing it to slip between her outer lips and rub furiously as she sawed it up and down between and against them. Soon her fingers moved up and slid beneath the G-string and began moving frantically under the fabric. Running up and down her slit, the fingers would briefly appear on the outside edges of the thong and then disappear quickly as they returned to her clitoris. Sometimes at the apex of this thrusting, they would stop and vibrate vigorously as she massaged her nub back and forth seemingly faster than a hummingbird's wings. As her breathing quickened and she approached orgasm, she abandoned massaging the exterior and began plunging her middle fingers into her vagina. They made a small fork as he watched her continue using two fingers along the outside of her pussy, and she quickly thrust her two middle fingers into and out of her pussy, fucking herself furiously; her breathing became ragged and panting. Soon she let out a long low moan. 

"Oh, God, I'm cumming! OH! OH! OH! Yes!" she gasped.

Her fingers slowed but remained in her hot, spasming snatch. She lay there riding the tide of the orgasm, panting and heaving in wanton abandon. She continued moaning softly, with the occasional whimper as she lightly rubbed her clitoris with her palm. As her orgasm subsided, the endorphins flooding her system overwhelmed the poor girl and she slowly slid into a blissful slumber.

"Well, I guess, we'll have to come up with something new if I actually want to punish the girl," the professor chuckled to himself.

****

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed creating it. I welcome all comments and suggestions as I am relatively new to this and would like to continue with better and better stories. Oh, and don't forget to vote! Thanks,

Cedarlooman



Becky Gets It Ch. 01



"Ah, ah, ah! We can't have that missy. This is for your education and discipline. You don't get to dictate the sensations," he mused.

FIFTEEN! His hand rose nearly to his shoulder and returned with swift alacrity across the plump middle of her now arched posterior. The blow came with sufficient force to elicit a gasp of surprise and pain from the now thoroughly entranced beauty draped across his lap. Her midriff collapsed against his thighs as the shock of the sensation caused her legs to slip out from beneath her, removing what little support they had been providing. Her face was now a paroxysm of bewilderment. A slight tear escaped from the corner of her eye. To build on the jumble of conflicting and confusing sensations, he moved his hand down and lightly massaged the juncture of quadriceps and gluteus, again allowing his fingers to come teasingly close to her sex, now beaded with her own musk.

SIXTEEN! His hand lightly connected with her left cheek once more with a satisfying crack.

SEVENTEEN! His hand struck again, moving to the opposite hemisphere to provide equal attention to all of that now rouged derrière. Her husking breathing was now providing an interesting counter-point to the steady rumblings of Wagner's approach to crescendo.

EIGHTEEN! Having now moved her attention to the reddening globes, he swiftly returned it to her glistening sex with a slight, caressing, fingertip tap to her labia majora. Now fully engorged, they had parted, giving a view of her full vulva, the fleshy folds of her inner labia parting slightly and extending between the now open, inviting ridges of her perfectly smooth and hairless outer lips. Her entire body now responded to his patient ministrations, her abdomen expanding with the deep, oxygen rich gulps of air. He could feel the tips of her puckering areolas as they firmed and sharpened into engorged peaks and pressed into his outer thigh. Oh yes, this was a lesson she would not soon forget!

NINETEEN! He turned his hand so it was now parallel to the twin grooves of her labia and delivered this strike firmly along them. The tip of his middle finger grazed the pearlescent bud of her clitoris as it emerged ever so invitingly from the protective cover of its hood. Becky, now thoroughly enmeshed in the confusing, maddening tangle of agony and ecstasy, pressed her eyes closed and could not stop the soft moans escaping from her tightly clenched lips.

TWENTY! Another sharp crack as his hand struck the fleshy orbs of her gluteus once more. He was rewarded with another gasp as the change in location and direction pulled her ever so slightly back, her legs clenching slightly with the unexpectedly firmer blow.

TWENTY-ONE! His arm fell again, only now moving his hand slightly lower, closer to her glistening vulva. He once more allowed his fingers to trace the soft creases of her taut, dimpling cheeks; still clenched from the anticipation of the next, unknowable blow. He allowed his fingers to now tease the beaded opulence of her outer labia; being careful to only lightly caress and tease them, avoiding, always avoiding, the slightly pulsing throb of her inner vulva and clitoris. The low moans and heaving breaths were now in a constant, ever quickening pitch and frequency. Noting this, and not desiring to allow this nymph to climax too soon...

TWENTY-TWO! TWENTY-THREE! Two curt connections of his full palm against the rosy abused flesh of her inflamed ass elicited again a sharp intake of breath. The gasp bringing her nearly to sentience and distracting her body from the welcoming, yawning abyss of orgasm it had been threatening to collapse into. He once more changed the course of her endorphins, lightly caressing her thighs, running the edges of his thumbs lightly across her vagina slightly stroking both sets of her labia but being careful to avoid the clitoris or its receded hood, knowing the slightest twinge across that sparking network of nerve tissue would provide her with a cascading waterfall of bliss.

TWENTY-FOUR! Another full hand slap, delivered across both buttocks and straddling her now pulsing vulva, this brought her visibly to the edge. Her calves and thighs clenched as Becky simultaneously tried to press the ample bulge of her breasts into his thigh on one side and seeking to press the opalescent pearl of her clitoris against his already receding hand. 

Yes, Miss Thrice will definitely be remembering this moment for a very long time. He was now ready to deliver the piece de resistance. He bent his head lower to be near her lightly arching neck, moving close to her ear sadistically relishing the next moment.

"Rebecca, mon esclave peu de sexe, the lesson is over. You may retrieve your possessions and leave, if you wish," he whispered.

She recoiled from his words, violently turning her head to face him, her light brown hair sweeping the edges of her jaw sticking where her exertions from his ministrations had caused sweat to bead on her brow. Her gaze pleaded with him; carnal, pure unadulterated arousal. 

"Please, PROFESSOR, just a touch, a graze, please I'm so close!" she gasped huskily, her voice a full throaty growl an octave lower than it had been just ten minutes earlier. Only ten minutes to move from haughty, aloof, brazen vixen to this pleading, straining, carnal animal before me! 

"Please," she pleaded, "I need it."

"Please, professor, I don't want to beg." 

With a start he realized while grading, lulled by the familiar leitmotifs of "Götterdämmerung", he had faded into a fantastic daydream, the subject of which now stood in the doorway to his office. He was still bent with his head inclined in his reading posture. The last paper he had been grading was still grasped in his hand. She had obviously just arrived and thought he was merely engrossed in the paper.

"Yes, Miss Thrice, please desist with your pleas and allow me to complete my review. I will be with you in a moment. Have a seat, there are some things I want to discuss with you," he smiled.

****

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed creating it. I welcome all comments and suggestions as I am relatively new to this and would like to continue with better and better stories. Oh, and of course, please vote!

Cedarlooman



Becky Gets Laid



Standing under the spray of the shower she thought back to what she just wittiness. Her room mate, Tina on her hands and knees sucking her naked boyfriend's cock in the living room. She stood there and watch them for almost 10 minutes waiting for him to cum. Then she saw that he was watching her and smiling. She turned and went to her room. 

He watched Becky walked away. He wanted her to stay and keep him excited. Although he like his girlfriend, but she did not excite him as much as she thinks. What he wanted was a chance with Becky. Now she could turn him on just walking into the room. Many times while in bed with Tina he would pretend it was Becky with him. He did not know why she excited him so much. She wasn't sexy like his girlfriend, and her tits were not as big but it didn't matter. He was just getting into it when his girlfriend pulled back and stood saying she had to go, and she would make it up to him later. He stood there stroking his cock watching her walk out the door. Slowly he went over and put the chain on, and locked the door. Walking down the hall he heard the shower running and the door was ajar. 

Pushing the door open he walk in. Through the clear curtain he saw Becky standing under the water. Closing the door quietly he lean back and watched her. Her hand moved slowly down her body, stopping to squeeze her tits then continue down to over her tummy to her pussy. Watching and hearing her moans and sighs got him even harder. He walks over and slowly pulls back the shower curtain. 

"There's something I have always wanted to say to you." he said softly. She gasp and jumps back with her back against the wall she notices that he's stroking his hard cock. She watches as he steps in and closes the curtain, and sits on the bench. 

" What's that?" she asks. He put his hands on her hips, and slowly he moved them down her legs. Then slowly back up before moving them to the front and slowly down to her ankles. Turning his hand he moved them to the inside of her legs and slowly he moved them up, parting her legs at the same time. 

"I have often wondered what you would feel like, naked next to me. What you taste like? But most of all I fantasized about being hard inside you. Now I think I am going to find out." he told her, burying his mouth in her pussy. 

"OH GOD!" She cries out, sinking down onto his mouth. He mumbles words against her pussy sending vibrations thorough out her body. He slips his tongue inside and she explodes into his mouth. He keeps sucking and licking until he swallows every drop. 

"Please don't be mad at me." he whisper to her over and over again.

Slowly she opens her eyes to find him holding her, she lifts her head and looks into his eyes and there she saw everything she needed to know. Leaning in she kisses him softly and he grabs her pulling her unto his lap. She lifted up and he grab his cock and rubbed it back and forth against her pussy. Slowly she lowered her self down taking his hard thick cock inside. Grabbing her hips he help her ease down. "God baby your so fucking tight." he groaned. Her head falls back and suddenly she drops down taking all 10 inches inside.

"Oh Godddddddddd!!!" they both groaned. Holding her tightly he stood up, turned off the water and carried her to her bed. Laying her gentle down he followed her down. Grabbing her thighs, he pulled her legs onto his back and then grabs her hip and pounds her pussy hard. 

"Ohhhhhh yes fuck me, fuck me harder." she cries out. Leaning down he take a nipple into his mouth sucking hard. Suddenly she stiffen and cried out that she was cumming.

"I going to blow too." he grunted, spilling his cum deep inside her. Holding her tightly against him they both fell asleep. Hours later he awoke to find Becky between his legs sucking his cock. He couldn't stop from moving, it felt so good. 

"God baby you sure know how to wake a man up. mmmmm, feels so good. Please don't stop Honey." he groaned. She started moving her mouth faster, and rubbing his balls against the base of his cock. She moved her finger up against his asshole. Suddenly she felt him stiffen and then she felt the hot thick liquid shoot into her mouth. 

Licking her lip as she swallowed the last of his cum just as they both heard Tina's loud car pulling into the driveway. Quickly he runs for the shower and Becky grabs her dress and pulls it on and runs into the Kitchen to start dinner.



Becky Gets Shaved and More



The following is collaborative effort between my friend Becky and me. We hope you enjoy it . . .

*

Becky stepped from the shower and walked into the master bedroom. Her body sparkled in the candlelight that lit the room. A moonbeam, streaming in through the open french doors, danced on the silver chain that encircled her neck, and draped lazily across the start of her enticing cleavage. The two, played with the diamond tennis bracelet that graced her right wrist.

She paused: taking in her lover, stretched out naked on their queen-sized bed. Her gaze settled on his long, thick cock. She smiled.

The cool night air quickly brought her nipples to full attention. She took one, seductive step forward. A slight twinge; back there, reminded her of the incredible fucking her butt had received that afternoon. Another smile.

Sam patted the bed next to him. Becky accepted the invitation and curled up next to him with her head resting on his thigh. She looked into his eyes, then moved forward and took him into her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and began to bob up and down on his still-flaccid cock. It was a play she had performed often. One that she relished.

"Oh god, Beck!"

Becky released her love. Her tongue followed his length: from the base to the crown. Warm kisses retraced the trail. She licked, kissed, sucked his balls. Her fingertips drifted over his now moist skin.

A school girl's giggle escaped her lips.

She took him in her mouth once again. Her tongue swirled over him. His cock was approaching its full length and girth. She shifted her position and took him deep into her mouth. With a stilted, jerky motion she moved over him. Her tongue was everywhere. Her lips were molded to him.

Sam drew a short breath. Another. And another.

"Oh Becky!"

She smoothed and quickened her pace. Faster, she bobbed up and down. Faster still.

Sam's breathing became labored as his orgasm neared.

Becky recognized the signs, and decided to exploit the moment. Without warning, she released him from her mouth and began to masturbate him. Her grip was light; but expert. With each stroke, her pace quickened. The whole of her attention was focused on the (ahem) task at hand. 

"Beck . . . Becky . . . please . . ."

She stroked his cock even faster. The first spurt of cum jetted across his abs and chest. As did the second. Third. Fourth. She milked the last from him. "You look good covered in your own cum." she said, "But letting all that salty liqueur go to waste seems such a shame. Don't you agree?"

"What . . . do you . . . have in mind?" Sam asked, cumming down from his orgasm.

His lover scooped a finger-full of cum and lifted it to her lips. She raised an eyebrow, then extended her tongue and licked her finger clean. "I'd say a nice tongue bath is in order . . ."

Becky lay back, sinking into the pile of pillows and slowly spread her legs. Sam knelt next to her, picked up the first silk scarf, moved aside her bracelet, then fastened the scarf around her wrist. A gentle tug held it fast. He moved from the bed and guided her bound limb up and out, toward the far corner of the headboard of the brass bed, then secured it there. He picked up the second scarf and repeated move for move.

Sam sat down next to his restrained lady and gently caressed her pussy. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Becky looked down at the dense mat of golden curls covering her mons. Sam slipped one, then three fingers inside her pussy and cradled her clit. "Yes." she said softly.

"Sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, babe."

Sam removed his fingers from her warm wetness. A light kiss to her forehead. He reached out, and tossed back the towel covering the tray he'd placed on the night stand moments earlier, and picked up the scissors. "Last chance." he said.

Nervously, Becky shook her head "no". Sam pinched together a small tuft of her pubic curls and pulled them taught. Gently, he pressed the cold steel of the blades against her mound and began to shear. One by one, the hairs yielded to the scissors. As each tuft surrendered, Sam laid it on her plump middle.

Becky watched as the downy pile grew, and grew. With childlike wonder, she marveled at how much hair covered her mons. How little surrounded her labia.

Sam continued to snip-away her maiden-curls. Becky drew a quick breath as she felt the blades brush against her outer lips. She held it. With great care, Sam trimmed-away the sparse curls that stood guard over her tender lips. She let it out as he turned his attention to the dozen or so rogues that crept down her inner thighs.

A smile crept across Sam's face. "This is really turning you on, isn't it?" he said.

"No." she lied.

He ran his middle finger along her slit, collecting the sweet nectar that was starting to seep from her. "Then what brought this on?" he asked, offering her a taste.

Becky hungrily accepted her own juices. "Brought what on?" she said with a smile.

Sam shook his head, then retrieved the washcloth from the basin and wrung it. He shook out the cloth and covered her fresh stubble. The moist heat brought her arousal to a new level; one she had not expected.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded.

Sam picked up the can of shaving gel (for sensitive skin) and gave it a shake. Without saying a word, he removed the washcloth, then dispensed a small amount of the cool, blue gel onto his fingertips. Using a circular motion, he massaged it into her mound. Together, they watched as the gel transformed to its creamy state. Sam smiled at Becky's fascination. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what the finished product would look like.

"Beck? Hold very, very still." His voice brought her back to the moment. Timidly, she opened her eyes. With a feathery touch, he drew the razor up – from the point that her labia met her mons – to that indistinct line where her maiden hair fade to nothingness. Pass after pass radiated outward. The strokes were slow. Languid.

He urged her legs wider apart. Using his thumb, he drew the flesh of her inner thigh taught, and drew the blade toward her now-swollen pussy lips. Each stroke had a surgical precision to it.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your pussy?" Sam asked.

"Once . . . or twice."

Sam placed a fresh blade in the razor and applied more of the gel. Reversing his tack, he began round two. As slowly, and methodically as before, he moved the blades over her every curve and contour.

Becky couldn't believe how wet she had becum. She knew it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. Sam knew it too.

"There!" he said proudly, "Now it's time to clean you up a bit."

The warm washcloth felt good against her now-naked flesh. The gentle bating felt good as well, but only added frustration to her desire to cum. Becky needed an orgasm. Desperately.

"Sam?" she said softly, "I . . . would you . . ."

"Yes?"

"I really need . . . "

He slipped three fingers inside her pussy and pressed against her clit.

"Oh god!" she cried.

Involuntarily, Becky began humping Sam's fingers. Wave after wave of orgasm washed over her . . .

Becky lay there, still naked and tied, and watched as Sam fastened, then zipped his shorts. She started to speak; but didn't. Sam finished buttoning his shirt. "Are you ready for the rest of your fantasy to come true?" he asked, "It's not to late to change your mind."

Her heart pounded. Her palms began to sweat. The reality of it all began to settle in. Her mind raced. She thought back to the night Sam had coaxed her into revealing her dark desire. To the day he offered to make her wistful dream cum true. It was now or never.

"I'm ready." she said, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

"You're not convincing me." Sam said, "Are you doing this for me; or for yourself?"

"For me." she replied confidently.

"You sure?"

"Yes.

"Sam," she began, "before you, the only other person – man or woman – I had ever been with, was my ex, Owen. With him, sex was something that took place once a week; lasted less than fifteen minutes; was done with the lights out; him on top and me on my back. Wham bam thank you ma'am. That was it. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine how much fun it could be spending an entire day making love. You showed me that. You taught me that it's okay to explore my, carnal side. Yes. I want to do this."

Sam bent down and lightly kissed her lips. He looked into her eyes and smiled. "I must say, it's a little hard to take you seriously right now." he began, "what with you naked; tied to the bed like this. But . . . Okay." Another kiss. "I'll be right back."

Becky eased into the pillows. They enveloped her. She tested her bounds. To no surprise, the scarves refused to yield. Slowly, she brought her legs together, then lifted her head and stared at her freshly-shaved pussy. It looked, odd. She was overwhelmed with an urge to reach down and touch it; feel it. She tried, but the scarves intervened.

She waited. Time lost all meaning. Her thoughts began to drift. To the first time she saw Owen naked. It was their honeymoon. To the first time that he fucked her. The same night. To the first time she had seen Sam naked. The one month anniversary of their first date. To that evening, which they spent making love.

Two quick, soft raps on the bedroom door brought her back to the moment.

"Hey babe." Sam said.

More from reflex than anything else, Becky tried to cover herself. Unfortunately, or not, her silk bounds thwarted the effort.

"Beck? I'd like you to meet KC."

Her eyes widened as Sam's former business partner stepped through the doorway. 

"Hello, Rebecca." he said.

Becky could not take her eyes off the very handsome, very young, KC. How young? Thirty; maybe thirty-five, she guessed. As for the rest? Height? Six foot. Weight? One hundred eighty pounds. Eyes? The darkest shade of brown. Hair? Coal black; trimmed short. How was he dressed? In of all things: a navy, pin-striped suit!

"Hello." was all she could manage to say to the much-younger man.

"You're even more beautiful than Sam had lead me to believe." he said.

"Thank you."

KC took off his jacket, gathered it lengthwise, and laid it on the dresser. Holding Becky's gaze, he removed his tie, then tossed it atop his jacket. Staring intently into her eyes, he approached, unbuttoning first, his cuffs, then, the top three buttons of his shirt. He sat down next to her and gently kissed her lips. The tip of his tongue begged entrance. She granted. Unhurriedly, it probed and explored her mouth. She started to reciprocate. He pulled back.

"No, Rebecca." he said, "I'm here to fulfill your fantasy. Not one of my own."

Becky wanted to protest: to say that returning favors received was something she enjoyed doing; but didn't. Instead, she lay silent and watched, as KC stood and removed the remainder of his clothing. All, save his cream colored boxer-shorts. Again, he sat down next to her.

Another kiss. More exploration by his tongue.

A diversion?

She jumped, when his thumb circled her right's areola. Moaned softly, when his fingertips traced the tender crease where breast met her rib cage. Shuddered, when he cupped, then squeezed her left.

The kiss ended. His hand drifted down to her thick waist. Over, to her prepubescent-looking pussy.

"Rebecca?" KC said softly, "Would you do something for me?"

"If I can." she said mindlessly.

"Open yourself to me."

Slowly, Becky spread her legs, giving KC complete access. Using his middle finger, he separated her sticky, outer lips and entered her with his touch.

"Your beautiful pussy is very wet." he said, "Have I excited you that much? Don't answer."

His fingers lightly stroked her clit. Becky came instantly. Loudly. "Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!"

KC continued to caress her inner walls. His lips encircled her right nipple. A gentle nip made her cum again. This time, only a soft moan gave her away.

The finger-fuck continued. As did the kissing, licking and nibbling on her breasts. Such treatment was nothing new for Becky – Sam had showered her with such pleasures more times than she could remember – but having a complete stranger; a deliciously handsome stranger, lavish her with such attention was almost more than she could bear.

"Rebecca?" KC said softly, "Would you like me to eat your pussy?"

"Oh god yes!"

It was a primal cry that came from deep within. It resounded in Becky's ears. So foreign.

KC walked to the foot of the bed. He leaned forward and rested his hands on her knees. His fingertips floated over her warm flesh. The slightest of pressure coaxed her legs further, and further apart. The intense stretching was self-imposed.

"Your pussy is even more beautiful than I'd imagined."

"Thank you."

"I'm so glad you consented to have it shaved. To me, there is nothing more appealing than a pussy that is not shrouded by a thick patch of pubes."

He crawled between her splayed legs. Reached out and separated her glistening pussy lips. Her scent filled the air. The tip of his tongue entered her.

Becky arched her back, and cried out in orgasm. "Oh god!!!!!!!"

KC eagerly lapped her sweet cum.

Using his thumb and fore finger he held her open. A warm kiss to her exposed sex sent another shockwave coursing through Becky's being. His tongue slid inside her. The tip darted over her inner walls. It sought out her clit. The sensations were like none other. 

"Ooooo. Mmmmm. Ughhh!"

The sounds escaping Becky's throat were primal. She clenched her fists and pulled hard against her bounds. Every muscle in her arms quivered from the wasted effort. Her orgasms faded one into another. KC's lips molded to her labia. His tongue fucked her with wild abandon. Then; nothing.

"Rebecca? Would you like me to put my cock inside you and fuck your beautiful pussy?"

Becky wet her lips, and tried to answer. The power of speech eluded her. She nodded.

"Is that a 'yes'?" KC asked.

A smile and even quicker nod.

KC crawled from the bed and shed his boxers. Becky stared at his cleanly shaved cock. Images from an x-rated video she and Sam had once watched darted through her mind. Her face flushed, as all the nasty thoughts she'd had came flooding back.

Sam got up from the chaise, walked over, cradled Becky's head in his hand, then slowly tugged-out the pillows that had become soaked with her sweat. Lovingly, he eased her back until she lay flat on the bed. She stared into his eyes, smiled, and mouthed 'thank you'. He smiled back, and mouthed 'welcome', then returned to the chaise.

KC knelt between Becky's legs, reached out, and took hold of her ankles. He brought her legs tight together, wrapped his arms around them and hugged them to him. Tender kisses on her calves. A light touch caressed her outer thigh. Almost magically, he entered her. His cock filled her: more than Owen's; but not as completely as Sam's. She mulled the comparison. Was it her imagination? An added bonus of the unfamiliar angle of penetration? It mattered little.

Rocking his hips slightly, KC set a slow pace. His thrusts were shallow, yet forceful. With each, her heavy breasts shook from the impact. With each, she drew a quick breath. 

All motion stopped.

More kisses. This time to her ankles and feet.

Another sharp thrust.

Another.

Orgasm engulfed her. 

Another sharp thrust. Another. And another.

Becky struggled for breath. KC released his grip on her legs. He hooked her knees in his elbows and leaned forward. The stretch she felt in her wide hips was almost painful. Almost. He pressed on until his hands rested on the bed and bore his weight. Her flexibility passed the test.

"Rebecca?" he whispered softly, "It's time for me to fuck you like the bitch-in-heat that you are."

KC withdrew all but the head of his cock, then slammed his full length home. Forcefully. "Is that alright?"

Becky's mind was swimming. His words were almost inaudible. Somehow, she managed to whisper back. "Yes."

Once more, KC withdrew all but the head of his cock, then slammed his full length home. Even more forcefully than before. He held still inside her. "When I finally fill you with my cum, that gorgeous pussy of yours will know it's been fucked."

Another forceful stroke. Another. And another. "It will know what it means to be ridden hard, and long."

Another forceful thrust.

Another. "The memory will be a lasting one."

Becky was lost in orgasmic bliss. The feel of KC's naked pubes against her own was unexpectedly erotic. She looked into KC's eyes; but couldn't focus.

Another forceful thrust.

Another.

Her pussy ached from the merciless pounding KC was delivering. It was a feeling like none she had ever known before. The price, for the untold orgasms she'd received?

KC picked up his pace. Each thrust was as powerful as the last. Each, sending endless ripples coursing through her un-toned flesh. His hot breath singed her cheek. "Your pussy . . . is so tight!"

More images from the x-rated film. The big-busted blond chanting 'Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!' in time with each thrust from the cleanly shaved, well-hung stud as he ravaged her from behind. The look of pure delight on her face. The sound of his thighs slapping against her shapely butt.

He continued to fuck her. "Please." she managed to squeak-out, "Please. No more. I . . . I can't take anymore."

KC stopped and held still inside her. "Am I hurting you?" he asked softly.

"N . . . no."

"Then what?" he said, his tone more demanding.

"It's . . . I . . ."

The most forceful thrust yet. "You are such a tease, Rebecca."

Another.

"Such a sexy little tease."

Three quick, deep thrusts. "Your whispers of 'Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!' were a surprise. I never took you for one to use such inelegant language. Your pussy will have to pay for your vulgarity."

Had she actually voiced the desire?

KC began to fuck Becky even more fast and furious than before. Her heart was pounding as if she had just run a marathon. She was drained. Orgasms came in wave after painful wave.

He continued to thrust in and out of her well-fucked pussy.

"Oh god!" she sobbed.

How much more could she take? The answer was: all that he would give , , ,

KC withdrew his limp cock from Becky's exhausted pussy. Gently, he eased her legs down, then moved her knees together. The sheets of sweat that covered her body sparkled in the fading candlelight. Her hair clung indiscriminately to her cheeks and forehead. Her hips and legs were tight from having been stretched to their limits for so long. 

She opened her eyes. KC was gone. Sam sat down next to her and began to work open the knot that bound her right wrist. Her struggle had cinched it tight. Bit by bit it yielded. Becky tried to move her arm to a more comfortable pose. It was not easy. 

Sam moved to the other side of the bed and untied her left wrist. Becky summoned all her energy to pull herself to a sitting position. She was exhausted. Her arms and legs felt as though they weighed a ton. "Where's KC?" she asked.

"Gone." Sam replied.

"Gone? When did he leave?"

"About a half hour ago."

Was it possible? "A half hour?" she repeated, "What time is it?"

"A little past midnight."

Becky shifted her position. Warm cum spilled from her pussy onto her thigh. She reached down and stroked her naked pussy for the first time. Cautiously, she slipped one finger past her hot, swollen labia. Innocently, she sought-out and brushed her clit. She winced in pain. As promised, her pussy ached.

Her mind began to clear.

Was it possible that almost four hours had passed since she had stepped from the shower? Was it?

Sam sat down next to his lover and took her in his arms. They kissed. Long and deep.

"Happy birthday, Beck . . ."



Becky Gets What She Deserves



It was the last day of the dreaded family 'vacation'. My wife Charlotte always insisted on spending a week with her parents and siblings; something I endured with as much good grace as I could. Her parents were alright, as far ass went. Her older sister and her husband were fine as well. The best that could be said about her younger sister though, was all physical appearance.

Becky was young, hot, and obnoxious. My wife always said it was because she was so much younger than herself and their older sister. They had spoiled her, she said. I was sure that had been a contributing factor to her personality, but I also suspected her good looks and amazing body had only enabled her in getting her way. Whatever the reason, Becky wasn't used to hearing no, and had never warmed to me -- especially after I ordered her out of our house one night when she drunkenly started slinging insults at everyone she could see.

The vacation had been fine so far. As well as I could expect anyway. Everyone had been enjoying the afternoons out at the beach, long relaxing dinners, and spending a few hours relaxing with their various pursuits before turning in. Our last afternoon together was spent in the usual fashion. Everyone was down at the beach. Charlotte, her older sister and her husband, and their mother had gone for a walk; and their father had fallen asleep in a lounge chair next to mine, and Becky had waded out into the water for a swim.

I was immersed in a paperback when Becky approached me, saltwater glistening on her young toned body. She leaned in over me, droplets of water sprinkling over me and my novel. I glanced up to find her curvy, perky breasts uncomfortably close to my face. I directed my gaze up quickly, trying not to notice the way her nipples stood up beneath her bikini top.

Becky was staring down at me, a dangerous sort of smile on her full lips. She glanced over towards her sleeping father before bending down a little closer to me. "I saw you that night," she said quietly.

"What night?" I asked blandly. I tried to shift away, having a difficult time keeping my eyes on her face when she was bent over me in such a position.

Her eyebrows twitched as her smile twisted into a familiar smirk. "Let's see," she said, straightening a little to toss her wet blond ponytail over her shoulder. "The night you cheated on my sister."

That got my attention. I was no longer interested in checking out Becky's body. "What?" I demanded. I glanced over, determining for myself that her father was still asleep. I straightened and lowered my voice. "What the hell are you talking about? I never cheated on your sister!"

It was a lie, although I couldn't imagine why Becky would hint to know otherwise. No one knew. Charlotte and I had been going through a rough patch a few years previously, and I had eased my pain with one, or a few, one-night stands. No one had ever found out, and as I had always been out of town when I had done it, there didn't seem any way Becky could possibly have found out.

"Oh, you did," she said, bending down even closer. Her bikini top gapped slightly, and had I not been intent on our conversation, I would have had a hard time not seeing if I could sneak a peak at her whole breast. "I know you did -- I saw it," she added.

Becky's gaze was confident, almost challenging. But she had spent her life playing this part and I wasn't about to crack over a bluff.

"Bullshit." I said.

She let out a laugh, making her tits bounce in a way that made my cock twitch in spite of myself. "Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Bullshit. Alright fine, how about this. Does 'Phoenix' ring a bell?"

Of course I knew the city she was referencing, and I did occasionally go there for business. Whether I had picked anyone up in Phoenix, I unfortunately couldn't remember. I kept my face placid. "You're out of your mind Becky, go yank someone else's chain."

I turned away, lifting my book in a gesture to show I was done with the conversation, but Becky grabbed my arm. When I turned to face her she had moved even closer. Her cheeks flushed as she glared at me, her face no longer smirking, but hard now. Angry.

"I saw what you did you asshole. Don't deny it. All I'm saying is: watch your step. Piss me off and you might find my tongue gets a little lose around dear old Charlotte. Keep me happy, and..." she released my arm, straightening to lift her own in a shrug with a smile that infuriated me.

Becky strolled away, her hips swaying as she headed back into the beach house. I returned to my book, but had difficulty concentrating on it. I was glad when the others returned, eager not to have any more time alone with the most troublesome member of the family. The afternoon and evening passed without any other incident, although every time I looked over at Becky she was wearing a satisfied smirk, looking like the cat who ate the cream.

---

Charlotte and I packed that evening, intending to head home the following morning. She turned in early with the hopes of getting an extra couple of hours sleep, but I was too worked up. I couldn't relax with the idea of Becky raising the question of infidelity. Even if she didn't know anything, the very idea might lead down the path where the truth could be discovered. But finding out what she wanted and giving it to her would only be admitting that she knew something. That she had leverage over me.

After tossing and turning for a while I finally gave up, and went downstairs. My intention was a drink of water, and to pick up the paperback I had left in the dining room. But when I passed by Becky's bedroom door and saw it cracked open a few inches, I hesitated. Maybe it was worth talking to Becky. Maybe giving into whatever her (no doubt outrageous) demands were would be better than having her spout off at a moments notice that she knew something I couldn't necessarily deny.

I knocked quietly. The door swung another few inches open. Becky's TV was on, but the room was otherwise dark. There was no answer to the knock, so I tried again, a little louder. Still no answer.

I pushed the door open and poked my head around the corner. "Becky?" I asked quietly. I could see her now. Asleep, sprawled across the bed. Her slinky, silky nightgown seemed to shimmer in the glow of the television. I was irritated at the sight of her sexy sleep wear, feeling like it was some kind of taunt against me.

"Becky?" I raised my voice a little more, almost normal speaking volume, but still no response. Becky, I remembered now, was known for being a heavy sleeper, so unless I wanted to cross to the bed and shake her awake, it looked like any chance of a conversation was out.

I backed out of the bedroom, closing the door to the way I found it, and continued to the kitchen. But as I filled a glass with water and drank it down, I started to get angry. What could she possibly know? If she knew anything, why would she wait until now to bring it up? Surely she would have brought it up the first time she'd seen me, instead of waiting all this time. No doubt she was just trying to get a rise out of me. See how I'd react.

That bitch.

Thinking of how she'd get enjoyment out of watching me squirm, of how she'd threaten to shake the foundation of my marriage -- of her sister's marriage -- just for a laugh, pushed me to the boiling point. I slammed the glass into the dishwasher and crossed back to Becky's bedroom. I was going to wake her up alright, but not to bargain. I was going to give her hell until she was the one making deals.

Becky was still sprawled across her bed when I reentered her bedroom. One arm stretched up and over her head, one leg bent at the knee. I closed the door behind me, not wanting anyone to overhear our conversation, and crossed to the bed. I glared down at her for a minute before leaning over and gripping her arm. "Becky," I said, giving it a little shake. "Becky."

She barely stirred.

"Becky!" I raised my voice and nudged my hand into her side this time, jostling her whole body.

She murmured something and shifted positions, rolling slightly onto her side. One thin spaghetti strap slipped from her shoulder, exposing the top of one of her full breasts.

I froze, releasing my hold on her arm as I stared at the exposed flesh. It wasn't something I hadn't seen a thousand times before. It was no more than her bikini or low-cut t-shirts exposed. But somehow the combination of her being asleep and knowing the only barrier between myself and the rest of that breast was the thin material of her nightgown made it different.

I reached forward again, but not for Becky's arm. Not to wake her. I placed my hand over her breast gently. My fingers stroked the exposed skin as my palm cupped her breast through the thin silky nightgown. It hadn't been a conscious decision to do it. I felt instantly guilty, even as I squeezed it. If Becky were to wake and find my standing over her, touching her this way...

My fingers grazed her nipple, feeling it rise beneath my touch. I could feel my cock twitch and begin to harden as I massaged her breast, trying to convince myself to let go and leave, even as I took her other breast in hand.

God, they were amazing.

I fondled them for another moment, worried she would wake, but able to keep myself from squeezing her nipples to make them hard. My cock was throbbing, and I paused to adjust it, giving it a few strokes to while I was at it. Becky sighed, lifting her chest and ever-so-slightly pressing her breast into the hand still fondling her.

"You slut, you're enjoying this," I muttered. Not entirely in my right mind, the realization that Becky was enjoying herself even while asleep made me even more crazed.

I rolled her onto her back, climbing onto the bed to straddle her. I was rougher with her breasts now, squeezing them with more force. Twisting and pulling her nipples until she squirmed. The risks of what would happen if she woke didn't occur to me. I ducked my head down and took one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking on it through the silky nightgown. Becky moaned in her sleep and shifted her legs restlessly.

"You whore," I muttered angrily. "You want more, don't you? You always want more."

My cock was aching at this point. I rubbed at it as I pulled the blankets back, infuriated with myself that I was giving her what she wanted, but unable to stop myself. Her nightgown was short, her legs bare and slightly parted. I wasn't thinking as I slid the nightgown up. My heart raced as I took in the pale pink panties she wore beneath. I stretched a hand forward and ran a finger over her slit, feeling the dampness beneath my finger. It confirmed what I had already suspected -- asleep or not, she was enjoying this.

I shifted over to one side, parting her legs and moving between them without difficulty. I began stroking her mound, gently at first then more insistently as her panties dampened and her clit grew swollen.

It was no longer Becky, my wife's sister, in front of me. It was a body. Willing and wanting. Young and nubile. I ran a finger beneath her panties, shuddering to feel the wetness beneath. My cock jerked for release, and I knew then I wasn't going to stop until I had it.

But when I grasped ahold of those pale pink panties and started to work them over her hips, she stirred and started to wake. I was intent on my goal, not caring about being gentle, or kind, or discrete. Had I halted, waited just a few seconds, no doubt she would have gone back to sleep, giving me more time to enjoy my slutty sister before she ruined it all. But I was past thinking. I tugged on the panties, cursing as I tried to force them down her spread legs, and suddenly Becky was wide awake.

"What the-? What the fuck are you doing!?" she screeched, trying to pull away. "Get off me you sick fuck!"

She twisted and tried to get away while striving to keep me from removing her underwear at the same time. There wasn't room on the bed for an escape, and Becky's mind was no doubt still cloudy with sleep. I held her in place fairly easily, leaning over her to use my weight to keep her in place. I reached down and yanked roughly at the delicate pink fabric, feeling a wave of base satisfaction when I felt it literally tear off of her.

I caught one of her legs as she tried to kick at me, lifting her knee up to my side. I could feel the heat of her pussy on my dick through my pajamas and ground against her. The straps of her nightgown had slipped further downward in the struggle and one breast was fully exposed. I lowered my head to it, licking the nipple a few times before latching on and suckling.

Becky fought beneath me as best she could, cursing and slapping at me. She latched onto my ears and pulled, forcing me to release her breast. I let go of her leg and lifted most of my weight off of her, and we there was another frantic attempt at escape while I tried to catch her arms, finally grabbing her wrists and pinning them over her head. Secured as I was between her legs, she couldn't kick me, but that didn't mean she didn't try. I grunted as her hips thrust against mine in a fruitless effort to throw my weight over, and hurried to transfer my hold on her wrists to one hand.

I lowered my pajama bottoms, my aching cock springing free. Becky was still cursing me, but there was an edge of panic in her voice now. Something I'd never heard before. I wasn't listening though, not now.

"You bitch," I hissed as I positioned myself. "You've been asking for this for years." She was still wet from my earlier attentions. I rubbed the head of my cock between her lips, groaning at how slick she was. "You're fucking loving this."

"No," she whimpered. "You wouldn't. You fucking bastard if you-!"

I pushed the tip of my cock into her entrance.

"If I-?" I mocked nastily, sliding just a bit further into her.

She seemed to get a second wind. Thrashing wildly all of the sudden, Becky nearly broke free. But I was stronger, and our position was in my favor, and when the brief struggle was over, I was embedded completely within her.

The struggle had surged my anger, reminding me that I wanted to teach her a lesson. To fuck her over for once. I pulled most of the way out only to slam back into her, feeling an odd sense of pleasure when she cried out. I pulled most of the way out and slammed into her again, and again, building up a rhythm. Her wet cunt squelched with the movements, the noises in sync with the quiet squeak of her bed frame.

"You fucking bitch," I grunted as I pounded into her. I grasped her breast, twisting savagely at her nipple. The way she cried out only spurred me on, quickened my pace. "I bet you're just loving this."

Thinking to prove my point, I lowered my hand between us and pinched her clit.

Becky came hard, and suddenly. Her body stiffened in orgasm, her cunt squeezing around my cock so hard I nearly came myself. After a few seconds she went limp, gasping for breath.

I had slowed to admire her body in climax, but my cock was dying for release. I surged forward again, slamming into Becky with renewed vigor. My balls slapped against her ass as I drilled into her. I could feel them tightening, and knew I was near. Releasing my hold on her wrists completely I grabbed both of her tits, and squeezing them hard, found my release. I came inside my sister, gasping obscenities, my cock twitching as I unloaded my balls into her.

There was a long minute of silence as we both lay there, gasping. Then I lifted myself off of her. I stared at her for a moment, both of our expressions stony. Finally I spoke. "Don't ever threaten my marriage again. Have you got that?"

I might have been imagining the slight glint of respect in Becky's face when she eventually nodded. I pulled away and my softening dick slipped out of her with a slight plop. Neither of us spoke as I pulled up my pajama bottoms and left the room. We didn't speak the next morning either until everyone was saying goodbye. Becky caught my hand and, with her usual smirk, said she might just come visit us this summer.