Across the Pond – Chapter 3
31 May 2022
Sucks to Suck – Chapter 3
6 June 2022
This piece was commissioned by joshstories through Fiverr. Thank you for letting me share it.
Once again, I found myself staring down into the mirror. The plaid schoolgirl skirt flared out as it fell over the dramatic curve of my hips, and the long socks were pulled up to just above my knees. The uniform was complete, with a tie with a gold and navy blue pattern, worn over a white button-up shirt. It had a sweater with the school emblem on the left side and stripes on the sleeves and collar that matched the colours on my tie. I couldn’t help but already feel a certain warm tingle between my legs just from watching myself in that uniform, in Laura’s large full-body mirror.
“Are you ready to come out?” her voice called, in a soft cooing tone, from behind the floral pattern screen that separated the little dressing area from the rest of her bedroom.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, adjusting my hair briefly and stepping out.
She had clearly laid out the rules of the game as soon as I arrived. I was to do everything she said, and unless instructed otherwise, refer to her as 'ma’am'. I wasn’t entirely clueless about BDSM, but my knowledge was limited to superficial reading on it on the internet. Laura was happy to fill me in. A brief conversation about limits, and consent, was unexpectedly illuminating, and then she insisted we agreed on a safe word. I ended up picking ‘Expecto Patronum’ as I thought it would be a nice call back to the conversation that ultimately led me to agree to it. It was also a big chunk of unsexy Latin and, Laura explained, ideally, safe words shouldn’t be sexy.
Once we agreed to everything, she had simply shoved me behind the dressing screen and commanded me, in a way that made my legs weak, to put on the clothes she had left for me, folded over a vintage stool. And now there I was, about to walk out in that outfit in front of that amazing woman. I felt strange. The outfit itself had nothing particularly sexual about it, except perhaps that the socks were a bit higher and the skirt a bit shorter than one would expect but otherwise I could entirely believe she had someone find an actual school uniform for me to wear. But despite the lack of any overtly sexualizing traits on the outfit itself, I felt dirty. And it was both agonizingly arousing and also a bit shameful and embarrassing.
As I stepped out into the room, I found that Laura had changed as well. A sober brown pantsuit, tortoise-shell frames without lenses and she held a wooden ruler threateningly in her hand. I realized then where that was heading, and I could feel my sex swelling and my thighs growing warm and damp in anticipation. My heart raced and I felt my breath becoming short as I experienced a sudden rush of arousal, unlike anything I had experienced before.
“Miss Olson,” she called me, with a stern, authoritarian voice, “I’m disappointed to hear you have been appointed to receive corrective measures. I expected more of a good girl like yourself.”
“S-sorry to disappoint, ma’am…”
She moved to sit on the bed and tap the mattress to her side.
“Come here,” she spoke, steely as before, “I expect your full cooperation during punishment. You understand?”
“Y-yes, ma’am. Full cooperation.”
The words barely made it out of my mind as I felt indeed like a scolded schoolgirl, and I sat down beside her on the bed. She wasted no time in guiding me to lay with my stomach over her knees, and prop my hips up slightly as she caressed my thighs with her hand. The mere touch caused me to squirm as a warm sensation shot down my spine and spread across my loins. Slowly, her long, elegant fingers raised my skirt to reveal the lacy black underwear I had put on for the occasion. She stroked across my rear, feeling me writhe under her touch, and taking her time in feeling my curves and contours in gentle caresses.
By the time she delivered the first slap, it caught me by surprise. It was sharp and fast, and while it hurt, it wasn’t too painful. But it was unexpected and caused me to yelp. And yet, she didn’t strike me again. Not for a long time, resorting once more to slow and gentle caresses. It was just when my guard was down again that she delivered the second blow, and slowly that pattern formed. Inconsistent, surprising strikes against my rear, escalating slightly in strength, but never too painful. However, the way she would touch, rub and grope me, knead my thighs and my rear in between blows, would cause me to yelp and squeal in surprise at every slap. And I felt the impact rippling through my insides as if vibrating the walls of my sex and making me squirm as my panties grew soaked to an obscene extent.
“Now, now… Miss Olson… This is hardly a punishment if you are enjoying it so much, is it?”
She said, in that professorial voice, as her hands slid between my legs to push the fabric of my panties against my sex and rub slightly, making it evident she could feel just how wet I was. And then she took charge again, tapping me on my back and commanding me to get up and get on my fours on the bed before she took her own turn to disappear behind the dressing screen. Laura knew how to play with time, and how to leave me waiting long enough that I would be agonizing and aching for her touch, but not too long that I had time to cool from the teased and aroused state she had left me in.
When she walked out, my heart felt like it had stopped for a moment. She was wearing this elegant garter belt and stockings, and between her legs, strapped on her waist and looped around her thighs, was a wobbly, large purple phallus. I hadn’t had many partners, and I found the size intimidating on its own, but the sight of it on Laura’s mature, well-formed body, was more than enough to make me willing to try. She was fit for someone her age, and I was pretty sure she must be a swimmer or practising some other type of full-body sport, judging by how tight and firm everything looked. Her skin wasn’t smooth and homogenous as it might be the case for a younger woman, but those markings didn’t subtract from her sexiness to me, only added to it. The sight of her body reminded me of the women in those Greek statues, both soft and feminine, but with a certain rigid poise to them, and just a hint of muscle definition.
She walked to the bed, to place herself behind me, kneeling and bringing her hand to caress my sex through the panties. And soon her fingers were looping around the edges and pulling them down, to expose my pink pristine and now shaven-smooth sex. She wasn’t the only one who had prepared for our little date night, after all. Those long digits stroked across my exposed swollen petals and I writhed even more openly than I had when I was on her lap. Soon she was pressing her palm against my sex and had the tip of her fingers touching the sensitive nub at the end of it, moving with visible experience as she circled and pressed my clit and drove me to moan helplessly.
“Good girl… You did everything I asked,” she praised and that praise made me warm and fuzzy inside, in ways that I wasn’t expecting, “now it’s time for you to ask… Ask me to fill your cunt.”
That word sounded so aggressive to me. Especially in her accent. So filthy and obscene, and so utterly profane when spoken in that professorial voice that she had been using. I don’t think I had ever said that word to anyone, at least not as an adult woman, and would even be uncomfortable saying it to myself. But as she commanded me, with her hand against my sex, I knew I had no choice. I wanted that toy inside me. Even if it hurt. Even if I had to say words outside my comfort zone.
“P-please, ma’am… Fill my… F-fill my…” I stumbled, bit my lips and blurted out, “please fill my cunt.”
She smirked, bringing her slick fingers to rub them across the length of the toy. The strap-on had some rubbery property to it, moving, curving and bouncing under her caress until she made the purple, lightly-texturized surface glisten with my arousal spread over it.
And then she brought the tip against my folds and pushed it in. I had found the soft and wobbly nature of the toy strange at first, but given its size, I was suddenly thankful for it. I could feel it had a harder core beneath that softer surface, but the softness gave it some give, and I felt my sex squeezing its girth and pushing it back as it entered me, inch by inch.
Laura was gentle and loving, at first, grabbing my hips and driving herself to the hilt inside before pulling back and repeating, in slow, long and delightful motions of her hips. And as I felt myself getting used to the thickness of that toy, filling me completely, she would lean forward, shifting her angle to go deeper inside, but also faster. Yet the increase in pace was so gradual, and I was so overwhelmed by pleasure, that it took me a moment to notice it. But then it was impossible not to, as her hips were no longer simply brushing against mine, but colliding, and then clapping loudly whenever she buried her toy inside me.
That pressure in my womb grew and grew, expanding and filling me just as intensely and tightly as the toy was filling me, and as I squirmed and writhed, she grabbed me firmly by my hips and kept me pinned. I bit down into the sheets, tasting the fabric and grasping it with my hands to endure the intense fucking.
The perks of her athletic frame quickly became apparent as each impact of her hips with mine caused my arousal, which was now dripping down my thighs, to splash between us both, droplets of it spreading across my ass, and her thighs and stomach. She fucked me with a staccato-like rhythm, merciless, and continuous. And yet, despite the vigour and the no quarter offered, it also felt loving. Maybe it was the way her hands delivered gentler squeezes to my hips whenever I was done with a squirming fit, or how she leaned forward slightly to praise me for taking it in, but the whole thing made me feel more than just fucked. It made me feel taken care of.
And that sensation growing inside me was pushed to the point of no return. My sex squeezed tightly and clenched around the toy as my thighs contracted and my back arched. I cried out, releasing my teeth from the sheets as a powerful climax crashed over me and Laura fucked me into it, and then through it. Her pumping caused the blissful and near-painful climax to drag for an additional few seconds before it finally died out, and she eased out of her fast rhythm, gradually stopping as I was left to pant and try to recover my breath.
She pulled out from me, leaving me with an empty aching feeling in my cunt, before her hands stroked my back and then delivered a soft congratulatory slap against my ass. She allowed herself to fall softly on the bed beside me, breathing heavily too from the effort, although she wasn’t nearly as spent as I was. Which was impressive. For a moment, we just lay there, looking at each other while we recovered. And then she smiled at me and said:
“I hope that was… An interesting experience for you.”
I nodded, slowly agreeing. I wish I could've said more but she had fucked the eloquence right out of my brain.
“Good… If you are game, in a few minutes, I can show you something very fun with candles.”
And I shuddered, as a thought rushed through my head, ‘Maybe I should visit my parents more often.’
