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Strict Schooling 3

Riding School discipline is laced with hot sex

Miss Winters bent the riding crop between her hands with a small smile. Not far short of a yard of braided leather its tapered end carried a head an inch square. One of a number made to her specifications, the instrument was intended not for horses, but for its role in Riding School discipline. Highly flexible, it carried a bite designed to bring a wayward girl sharply to heel. And one such was now awaiting its attentions.

The young lady to be punished was arrayed across a wooden trestle, legs apart, her jodhpurs stretched tight around a rather full bottom. Satisfied that the smooth surface of the material was unbroken by any outline of underwear – regulation dress permitted nothing more than a thong – Miss Winters smacked her crop across the seat twice in quick succession. Not hard, but enough for the girl to feel its weight. There was a sharp intake of breath and the head turned.

“Eyes front, Melissa, and keep them there.”

“Sorry, Miss.”

“Twelve strokes, and you will count them for me. After six you may rub if you wish. But otherwise you stay down until I say. Now hold tight.”

THWICK!

“Ah! One, Miss.”

THWICK!

“Oh! Two, Miss.”

THWICK!

“Ow! Three, Miss.”

Three more and the girl jumped to her feet, clutching her seat as if it were possible to squeeze out the fearsome sting.

“I'm waiting...”

“Oh. Six, Miss. Sorry, Miss.”

Back in place she gasped out the rest of the count then lay squirming. “Owww...Twelve, Miss...Ooh...”

“Right, girl, on your feet.” Miss Winters regarded her with a grim smile. “Now you can go to the Office to get assignments for the day. If I know anything about my instrument here you won't want that bottom of yours in the saddle for a while yet.”

“No, Miss, Thank you Miss...”

When Melissa had explained the situation, Miss Jackson gave her a sympathetic smile. “You know I was a pupil here myself not so long ago, and remember only too well that beast of a crop. Ouch!”

“Mmm...Ouch.” With a hand on her seat she gave a rueful smile back.

“So you can help Sonya do some gentle tidying this morning, then maybe groom a couple of horses later?”

“Sounds great. Thank you, Miss Jackson.”

“But take a good half-hour first. To, um, freshen up? Another thing that sticks in my mind is how the aftereffects could be quite, shall we say, stimulating...”

Back in her room Melissa grinned to herself. Freshen up? It was one way of putting it. Stripped off, she examined the reds and purples criss-crossing her behind, which was now exquisitely tender. But foremost in her thoughts was the hot itch between her legs that was demanding direct action.

In the bathroom she sat on the toilet and put a hand to the seeping lips between her thighs. Oh God this was going to be good. So good that it was almost worth all that pain. Well, almost...

oOo

When they came to a wider section of the track, Tara drew her horse up alongside her friend's. “A bit ahead there's a glade on the left. Do you fancy a pit-stop, Sam?”

“A pit-stop?”

“Don't play coy with me, girl. For the last mile I've had my eyes on that delicious arse bouncing in front of me. And if I don't get a closer inspection soon...”

Samantha dissolved into giggles. “Okay, okay. Maybe I did put it on a bit. And I'm feeling pretty hot myself too. So let's do it.”

They tied up the horses and shucking off the riding jackets sank down on a grassy bank under cover of trees. In a trice Tara had her friend's blouse open and was sucking at the nipple of a small firm breast.

Once they were both topless, she unbuttoned Samantha's jodhpurs and drew down the zip. In the crotch her hand had just found a decidedly damp gusset when there was the sound of hooves at their back and Miss Carstairs loomed over them.

“Oh my God.” Tara was on her feet while Samantha struggled to close her trousers.

“Yes, you may well appeal to your maker, Tara. But I'm afraid She is not going to save you this time.”

The girls dressed quickly and, clothing restored, faced the Mistress.

“I'm not giving you a lecture – you know the rules. In your dorm space out of school hours you're free to do as you wish. After all, you are of age. In public, though, you behave decorously.”

Tara pouted at her. “But, Miss, there was no one about.”

“Well I was about and just happened to come upon you. It could have been anybody. So you will be punished.” Miss Carstairs looked at each girl in turn, mouth set firm.

“However, I shall not hand you over to Miss Winters. I know how keen you two are on your daily excursion, and after she'd finished with you riding a horse would be rather out of the question.”

“No, I'm going to give you both a good spanking. You'll report to me at 10.30pm in pyjamas. And don't think your bottoms will be getting off lightly.”

“No, Miss. Thank you, Miss...”

oOo

It was almost a quarter past eleven when the pair arrived back at the dorm common room where Melissa was waiting for them. She held up a porcelain jar.

“A soothing rub, guys? Or is it straight into wild coupling?” Tara looked to Samantha who nodded at the jar.

“My money's on even hotter sex when my bum isn't quite so blazing.”

“Same here, Sam. That leather thing is a fucking scorcher. So we're in your hands, Mel.”

Their room had the two single beds pushed together and it took just moments to discard the pyjamas and lie face-down side by side. Melissa gasped at the sight.

“Oh, wow! I mean you expect a spanked bottom to be red but these beauties are both scarlet. But hang in there, help is on the way...”

She scooped out a dollup of cream and spread it thickly over one pair of buttocks and repeated the action with the other. Then she worked with quick light touches that soon had each prominent rump glowing with a startlingly deep colour.

“God, she can use that weapon, too. Doesn't look like much at first but it packs a real sting.” Tara was making a face and Samantha chipped in.

“Yeah. And then, just when you're thinking it's bad but maybe not that bad she starts to build up a rhythm. Until it's really hard and fast and your whole arse is on fire.”

“Sounds like a serious spanker, this lady. I'm gonna be super-behaved around her in future. Make sure she has no reason to get her hands on my bum. And, talking of bums, how are these beauties in front of me doing?”

“Mmm...good, Mel, good. Kinda hot – surprise, surprise – but the sort of hot that has less to do with pain and more to do with sex...” Tara turned to her friend.

“What d'you reckon, Sam?”

“Mmm...sex...sex...sex...” She gave her bottom-cheeks a wiggle.

Melissa held up her hands. “Okay guys, I think I get the picture. Just let me put the lid back on my jar and I'll make myself scarce.”

“You're welcome to join in, girl.”

Thanks for the offer, Tara. But after tending two luscious arses I'm good and ready for some hot solo action. If you don't think I'm being rude.”

“Each to their own, sweet Mel. And thank you...”

oOo

“Ah. Found you at last.” The figure came through the storeroom door and closed it behind her.

“Carol.”

“This is a bit embarrassing. But Miss Jackson's asking me to check that you really haven't been with a boy. You know, the whole works...”

“Ha. You mean have I ever had a cock up the cunt?” The expression of open-mouthed shock sent Melissa into a fit of giggles.

“Oh girl, your face. Sorry Carol, I couldn't resist. Seriously, though, the answer is no, never. Can't say I fancy the idea, either. But what on earth is this all about?”

“Well that makes us the only two virgin seniors, and the Mistress has decided we need a lesson in how the, um, cock actually works. Come on, I'll explain on the way...”

It appeared that Miss Jackson had got wind of a stable hand in hot water, and rather than take a beating from his father, the lad had jumped at the chance of being disciplined by a strikingly attractive Mistress. Especially when given the bonus of starring in a demonstration of male sexual performance.

When they arrived at the location that served as a punishment room the boy was already draped over the wooden trestle and Melissa winced at the recollection of her own rather recent acquaintance with that very frame. No riding crop for the lad, however, but a leather strap set out on the table beside. Miss Jackson motioned the girls over to a bench.

“Carol and Melissa, you sit there where you'll get a good view of the action. But before we start, a word on male anatomy. Would you straighten up for a minute, Johnny?”

He pushed himself upright, leaning on the trestle top while she ran her hands over his rump. “You notice, girls, the hips are narrower than yours or mine so that the buttocks are quite markedly dimpled. But meaty with it –” between thumb and fingers she squeezed the flesh of each cheek in turn “– so capable of absorbing a sound strapping with no lasting effects.”

She smiled at her audience then turned back to the boy.

“Right, lad, over and get a good grip. Now let's have these legs a bit wider, please.” Between them dangled a semi-erect organ that Miss Jackson indicated with her fingers. “Notice the response to a little attention. That won't survive long, but afterwards this fellow will have his day...”

“First, though, there is the matter of the punishment.” She took up the strap and held it out for view. It was a couple of feet long, thicker than a trouser belt and at least twice as wide. Melissa shifted in her seat. The cock she could take or leave, but the prospect of that instrument being applied to his bare bum was setting her all a-tingle.

“Thirty strokes, Johnny, is what I've been told to give you. You okay with that?”

“Ma'am.” It was a yes, if not an enthusiastic one, so the Mistress took up her position. “Ten each side, then five each side to finish. Hold on.”

Five strokes in and he'd made scarcely a sound, while Melissa was agog at the way the leather bit deep then curled back from the bouncing buttocks, each time adding another swatch of rose to the growing colour.

At ten Miss Jackson crossed to the other side and raised her arm for the next set. Though delivered backhand, they were no less forceful for that and the boy was beginning to let out small cries of pain. When the batch was done, the bottom had been painted a uniform red with square-edged outlines on both sides and Melissa thrilled to the sight.

The two last groups of five were laid on hard and fast. While the boy bucked and yelled, he stayed clamped white-knuckled to the bar until the end. The Mistress laid down her instrument and put a hand on his back.

“Well taken, Johnny. That was a strapping. And I don't suppose your father would have done much worse.”

“No, ma'am.” He turned his head to her with the touch of a smile. “In fact your backhand's harder than his.”

Miss Jackson smiled back. “Well thank you, boy. And it sounds as though you might be getting perky enough for the next stage. In which case, girls, you had better come up close.”

Invited to make a hands-on inspection, Melissa studied how the red band across the crown of the behind shaded into the darker purple of the undercurves that had taken the brunt of the last ten strokes. It was an arousing sight and the heat of the strapped flesh to her touch was awesome.

Her friend, meanwhile, was more occupied with the organ that was stiffening and swelling under the attention being paid to the boy's rump. Melissa gave her a dig in the ribs. “You're fixated, girl. Can't wait to get one of these between your legs.”

Carol stuck out her tongue while the Mistress watched with a grin. “Mmm, some would say it's only natural, Melissa, but you'll be curious to have this fellow actually perform, will you not?”

“Oh yes, Miss. As long as it's not inside me at the time.”

Miss Jackson laughed. “Such definite preferences in one so young. But now our boy is good and hard, let's give him a reward for all that pain while I explain how the thing works.”

She took the erect shaft in her hand and eased back the foreskin. “What you see now, girls, is the glans and if we stroke our fellow back and forth for a bit we should find – yes here it comes – the clear fluid that comes out of the meatus. And that, Carol, is what will help him on his way into your vagina...”

oOo

As they made their way along the corridor, Melissa's eyes were fixed on the bottom cheeks ahead that rolled from side to side under the snug trousers. Coming up close, she gave the inviting orbs a squeeze.

“You have one hot arse, girl, you know that?”

Carol giggled and wiggled the said part of her anatomy. “I think you were turned on, Mel, by the big spurter.”

“Hmm...the cock was okay. You know I could wish I had something in front of me that would shoot off.” She grinned and Carol hooted.

“God, I can just see you with one of those sticking out. Hot stuff. And then I could come and ride it.”

“Ooh, don't, girl. I'm wet already and that is so sexy...” She tailed off as Carol grabbed her arm.

“Hey, Mel, we could do something not a hundred miles from that. If you're up for it.”

“Up for what? Come on girl, spit it out.”

By way of answer Carol took Melissa's hand and set off, pulling her behind. “Come with me and I'll show you...”

In Carol's room the two girls sat on the bed with the strap-on between them. “Present passed on from big sis. Just last week and I haven't touched it yet. She doesn't need it cos she's got a new one that's bigger and better.” She grinned at Melissa who was struggling a little with this new development.

“So these straps fasten round the legs...”

“Yeah, just under the bum.”

“And this one goes through and up between the bum cheeks.”

“Got it. And you see there's knob thing that goes inside you. So you get off too.”

“Guess we've decided who's going to wear it, then?” Melissa raised an eyebrow and her friend looked a bit sheepish. “It's okay, Carol, we know which of us is pining for a cock inside her.” She examined the plastic shaft with a chuckle.

Well, this could give our stable boy a run for his money. Question is, girl, is your cunt ready for it?”

Carol stood up and unbuttoned her trousers. “Only one way to find out...”

When they were both stripped from the waist down and the device buckled in place Melissa looked at her friend. “From behind, yeah?”

“Reckon.” She knelt on the bed, legs apart, labia on display glistening with her arousal. Melissa positioned her self, eased the black head up into the vaginal opening and pushed. With Carol crying “Yes, yes,” the stiff bud found her clit and the jolt took her breath away.

This was going to be some ride...

oOo

Two weeks later Melissa was standing before the trestle with her stomach a knot of apprehension.

“You were seen in town, but your companion was not identified. So I want a name, girl.”

“Sorry, Miss, I can't do that.”

“Won't is what you mean. And that is wilful disobedience.” Miss Winters picked up her riding crop and whacked it against her thigh. “A name, please.”

“No, Miss. Sorry, Miss.”

“You will be. Get over, Melissa. Twelve strokes for breaking curfew.”

The night before had found herself and Carol in town having missed the last bus. After a few drinks in an establishment lax about ID they had walked the three miles back to the school and snuck in unobserved in the small hours.

Waking ravenous, Melissa had left her friend sleeping to go down for breakfast. Towards the end of which she had been hauled away from her coffee to the punishment room. Where she now was, in just a T-shirt and jogging bottoms, hugging the wooden frame.

THWICK!

Ah!

THWICK!

Oh!

THWICK!

Oww!

Six passed, then nine, through which she held on panting. After the twelfth she was let up to clutch at the welts that burned under the thin covering of her pants.

“Now, girl, I still need a name.”

“Oh no, Miss, please. Don't make me say.” There was a pause, then the voice was hard.

“Very well, you leave me no choice. You will take your schoolmate's punishment for her. Get back over...”

Eventually it was done and Melissa emerged from a daze of pain to stumble out into the yard. She was making her stiff-legged way slowly back to the dorm when there was a voice at her back.

“That's the walk of a girl who's just had the riding crop applied to her bottom. Repeatedly, I should say.”

“Oh, Miss Jackson.”

The Mistress looked her over and shook her head. “You, my girl, are going to come with me.” And so, supported by a firm arm round her back, Melissa let herself be led in the direction of the staff building.

Once inside her quarters the Mistress peeled down the jogging pants and positioning her over the arm of a Chesterfield. “Oh dear. I have to say that this was excessive punishment. Too much altogether.”

Melissa explained how it was she had ended up with a second dose. “And to be fair, I don't think she relished it, Miss. It was more like a matter of principle.”

“Hm. That's rather generous of you, girl. And, you know, while your friend Carol has escaped the crop, she should not get off scot-free. I'll be happy to give her a good leathering, if she'll take it. Just to square things up a little.”

“Okay, Miss. I'll put it to her.”

“Right, that's settled. Now let's get down to business...”

Smoothed over the beaten buttocks the lotion was deliciously cool. As Miss Jackson did her gentle work, Melissa drifted off into a semi-trance, feeling her body beginning to respond to the movements of the hands. Then the fingers dipped between her thighs and she came awake to her wetness.

“Oh God. I'm sorry, Miss.”

“Don't be. Just relax and enjoy, sweetie. I've got this...”

And indeed she had. It was an expert touch that caressed Melissa's most sensitive spots to bring her slowly but surely to that place. The place where all hurt was washed away in a tide of exquisite sensation...

oOo

“Oh Mel, that's awful. You should have told her. As soon as I heard where you'd been sent I ran down there but there was no one in the punishment room. I was too late.” Carol grimaced then got to her feet.

“Okay. I'm going to go to Miss Jackson straight away. I mean it's my fault you got double. Just don't be mad at me, please Mel.”

“I'm not mad, girl. And to show you I'll be waiting with the jar of cream, okay?” She kissed Carol on the lips and as she headed off savoured the curve of her bottom in the tight trousers. A bottom that would soon be bared and stinging under the chastising strap. And then one that would be in her own hands to soothe and caress. Now that was a happy thought...

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