Over the Knee (18 page)

He shifted his knees, lowering his left and lifting his right. It raised Lenka’s bottom up higher, presenting it splendidly for punishment. Courtney felt a wave of heat wash over her as she watched him fondle Lenka’s bottom. There was no more perfect position for a spanking. Skirt up, panties down, bottom raised up invitingly. There was something very vulnerable about only having the bottom exposed. It enhanced the childish nature of the punishment.

As he stroked Lenka’s bottom, Shaun’s hand slipped down to her thighs again. He patted them gently, urging them apart. Lenka obliged at once. Courtney knew that if she looked she would see dew glistening between the girl’s legs.

Shaun raised his hand and brought it down with a crisp smack. He found his rhythm and spanked first one cheek, then the other. Again and again.

Now Lenka was beginning to kick and struggle, whimpering and wincing. But when Courtney caught her eye again she could see the pleasure behind the pain. The girl seemed to sense each time Courtney was watching her face. Sublime in her sweet suffering, Lenka made her enjoyment plain. She gasped out little staccato protests in Czech and Courtney met Shaun’s eyes, delighted. The words needed no translation.

Encouraged by Lenka’s obvious pleasure, Courtney abandoned her pretence of modesty. She slipped her hand down inside her skirt, inside her panties, and touched the slick little button, stroking it softly with her fingertip until she felt it harden slightly under her hand.

Shaun saw her and smiled. His wanton little slut who just couldn’t help herself.

Lenka’s bottom was reddening nicely under Shaun’s palm. And Lenka was wriggling over his lap, squirming and grinding against his knee. Every time she pleasured herself with a surreptitious rub he smacked her harder,
making
her gasp and cry out. Finally, she couldn’t take it any more and threw her hands back, covering her bottom.

Shaun calmly gathered her wrists in his hand and pinned them in the small of her back. Courtney rubbed herself harder. Faster. Lenka looked up at her and then closed her eyes in ecstasy as Shaun intensified the spanking. She kicked her legs and one of her shoes came off, leaving her to paw at the floor helplessly with her bare foot.

At last Shaun began to slow his strokes. Lenka was moaning with unconcealed desire and her innocent face was transformed into a mask of salacious greed. She looked hungrily at Courtney.

Shaun released Lenka’s hands and she continued to squirm over his lap, pressing her sex into his knee and spreading her legs. Her body language was unmistakable. Shaun obligingly slipped his hand between her legs and she uttered a long shuddering sigh.

Courtney’s fingers worked enthusiastically in her own wetness as she watched Shaun fondle the Czech girl. His hand disappeared under the soft mound of her red punished cheeks. Lenka was grinding on his hand, her eyes closed and her head thrown back. Her lips were parted in unself-conscious euphoria. And, as her cries grew louder and more urgent, Courtney recognised Lenka for what she was. She wasn’t a prostitute; she was a true libertine. And her screaming orgasm was something no one would fake. Looking at Lenka’s face was like looking in a mirror.

Spent, the Czech girl collapsed over Shaun’s knee, her head hanging down. She panted for breath while the aftershock of her climax battered her again and again. Then she raised her head.

Courtney’s hand was still inside her panties; she hadn’t finished yet. Lenka offered her a naughty grin and got to her feet. She sat on Shaun’s lap and cupped her hands round his ear. Eyeing Courtney wickedly, she whispered something to him.

‘What an excellent idea,’ he said, smiling. ‘Courtney, come here.’

She obeyed, looking warily at Lenka. What had she said to him?

Lenka got to her feet, kicking off her other shoe. She grinned slyly and stood to the side, her skirt still up around her waist and her panties at her ankles.

Shaun patted his lap. The same invitation he’d made to Lenka. Courtney looked meekly at the floor and assumed the position. His thighs were very warm from Lenka’s body and she could feel the damp patch on his right knee where the girl had tried to pleasure herself.

Courtney’s sex was throbbing with the need to come. Shaun placed one hand on the back of her neck and stroked her hair with the other. She sighed and strained against his leg, asking for the same treatment he’d given Lenka.

Courtney felt her skirt lifted to expose her bottom. Then the feeling of cool hands inside the waistband of her panties. With a start she realised that Shaun’s hands hadn’t moved. It was Lenka who was baring her. She shuddered at the delicious thrill. The girl’s soft hands smacked Courtney’s bottom delicately, teasing her.

She felt Shaun’s right hand draw itself down along the length of her spine, before stopping to rest on her bottom. She wriggled, offering him an invitation. The warmth of his hand left her for a moment and then he brought his palm down sharply, eliciting a squeak of pain from her. Then another smack. Then another.

Where was Lenka? Was it her turn to watch? Was that what she had said? Courtney felt dizzy as Shaun spanked her. Much harder than he had spanked Lenka.

Suddenly she felt the Czech girl’s gentle fingers on her inner thighs. She gasped. Shaun’s hand didn’t stop.

Lenka’s fingers urged her legs apart and Courtney melted into submissive obedience, desperate for release. Teasing herself during Lenka’s punishment had intensified her need.

Shaun held Courtney down with his free hand while he spanked her hard and fast, making her yelp and cry out. Lenka’s gentle probing hands explored her with the care of
a
new lover. Finding the spots that elicited the best reactions. Exploiting every weakness discovered.

Shaun shifted his knees again so that her bottom was delivered up to his palm and Lenka’s questing fingers beneath. Lenka insinuated a hand between Courtney’s pelvis and Shaun’s knee, raising her up even further. Then she stroked the smooth ribbon of flesh, drawing her fingers over the little knot of Courtney’s clit. Courtney was lost in the maze of sensations, delirious between pleasure and pain.

With skilled fingers, Lenka rolled Courtney’s clit between her thumb and forefinger, sending sparks through her body. The effect was incredible. Her body jumped with each jolt of stimulation. Her legs inched closer together as Lenka applied pressure. But Shaun scolded her and ordered her legs back apart, delivering a sharp volley of extra hard smacks to the backs of her thighs.

Whimpering with pain, Courtney parted her thighs for Lenka, who cupped her palm over Courtney’s sex, moving it up and down in a slow sensual motion. Again, the stimulation was almost too much. Courtney heard herself as if from under water, pleading, begging for them both to stop. But Shaun knew her too well.

Suddenly Lenka increased the pressure, rubbing Courtney’s sex very roughly, forcing the fingers in and out with feminine violence. And all the while Shaun continued to spank her, turning her soft white bottom a bright hot red.

Lenka squeezed the little button one last time and Courtney plunged into a climax that made her want to scream. She gritted her teeth instead, making a low growling animal noise. As the orgasm engulfed her, Lenka’s fingers continued to stroke her softly.

Thirteen

THERE IS NOTHING
more distressing than witnessing a young lady who should know better behaving in an unseemly fashion
.

Even the pressure of the pen against the tender skin of my palm was acutely painful and I cursed my long fingernails as they dug into the raw skin at the base of my thumb. By the time I’d written the line fifty times I could barely move my hand.

I agonised over sharing my latest fascination. I’d told Courtney, of course; she and I were as close as sisters. But I was too embarrassed to tell Peter.

I wanted to be a boy.

Unable to get the story about Peter’s school days out of my head, I’d created a persona for the spanking chat room. His moniker was ‘Eton lad’ and his name was Martin. It was a naughty little thrill. No one knew I was a girl. Of course, it was common enough for guys to pretend to be girls in chat rooms, but I hadn’t met anyone else who did it the other way round.

Martin was often summoned to cyber-studies to be caned or slippered. Always the perfect young gentleman, he would submit bravely to whatever punishment his headmasters and prefects saw fit to administer. Cyberplay was dull and unexciting when you had the real thing. But it was my only outlet for play as a boy.

Most of the men Martin submitted to were straightforward CP players who wanted pure school discipline scenes
and
nothing more. They often shared their own ‘authentic’ school experiences with me – highly fetishised accounts I knew had no basis in reality, but which I enjoyed just the same. Occasionally, however, I had been astonished by just how crude guys could be with one another. I’d had some nasty propositions as a girl, but they couldn’t compare to some of the things these men said.

One day Courtney was reading over my shoulder while I played a scene online with a top who called himself Hdmstr4boy. He wasn’t very convincing; his spelling was deplorable and he kept hitting the caps lock key, which looked to me like constant shouting.

‘One-handed typist,’ Courtney said, sniggering.

When the scene was over, the ‘headmaster’ asked Martin how big his cock was. Courtney was in hysterics. I responded calmly that I had never measured it.

‘That ought to make him envious.’ Courtney laughed. ‘A boy who’s so supremely confident he’s never measured!’

Another time I played online with a man in the southern USA. He was very taken with Martin’s upper-class accent and impeccable manners, which I managed to convey in pure text. He said the American boys would tease Martin about it and bully him.

‘Then I would kick them in the shins,’ I wrote, enjoying the image.

‘That would be ungentlemanly, young man,’ he responded. ‘I have much higher standards for a well-bred English boy like you and that kind of behaviour will earn you a trip to the woodshed.’

The words made me writhe and I couldn’t remember having been so aroused by a chat session since … well, since meeting Peter. The American described in great detail how he’d love to introduce an English boy to the sting of the paddle, to teach him how effective American discipline could be. I was so lost in the role that I quite forgot I was a girl.

I tried to limit my online time and stick to the timetable Peter had laid out for me. But the temptation was impossible to resist. I couldn’t even justify it as research.
While
it was an interesting experiment, the girl-disguised-as-boy theme had no place in my thesis.

Naturally, I was allowed to play if I’d met my writing quota for the day. But some days the words just wouldn’t come. And it could get lonely sitting in the schoolroom at the hard wooden desk, staring out of the window or at the walls. I’d memorised the heraldry chart. Soon I’d be able to recite the Periodic Table as well. But, as a displacement activity, there was nothing to compete with cyber.

I shook myself out of a distracting fantasy and stared at the page in front of me. I had run out of things to say about the pro-birch offerings in the
Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine
and my thighs were going numb from inactivity.

I heard the music-box tinkle of my mobile phone, playing ‘Tubular Bells’ and I dug in my bag for it. ‘Hello?’

‘Hey, Angie, it’s Courtney.’

‘Oh, hi.’

‘You sound bored. Getting any work done?’

‘No,’ I sighed. ‘The muse of Victorian porn has deserted me.’

‘Just as well, then. You’re coming with me. I was just calling to invite you to lunch. There’s a new Thai restaurant in Soho and I thought we could go cruise Wardour Street and Old Compton Street afterwards.’

Ever since the episode with Lenka, Courtney and Shaun had been frequenting the adult emporia, expanding their collection of toys and CP literature. Peter had every issue of
Blushes
that had ever been published, but Shaun preferred
Janus
. Courtney wasn’t especially keen on either one; she just enjoyed hanging around the shops and getting chatted up by the occasional bold punter. She also got a charge out of asking for implements and CP videos in the vanilla shops. The proprietors weren’t easily abashed, but she’d succeeded on more than one occasion.

‘I’d love to,’ I said. ‘But I’m on thin ice. I’ve got to finish this chapter today or I’m in trouble.’

‘He can’t keep you prisoner,’ she protested hotly. ‘I won’t let him.’

With a laugh I assured her that I was usually a very happy and willing prisoner.

‘Well, I know you’re allowed to eat. It’s not the chat room this time. And, anyway, so what if you do get spanked? What’s the big deal?’

‘It’s not quite like that. We’re not talking about a fun little roleplay.’

‘Oh, God,’ Courtney moaned. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve gone vanilla on me!’

I couldn’t help but smile. She could always wear me down. And I was stuck in a rut anyway. I was starting to worry that my thesis had lost its spark. What conclusions could I make? That the Victorians were a pervy lot? That they were repressed and deviant? That wasn’t news to anyone. A diversion was just what I needed. The seedy side of London beckoned.

‘OK, OK, I’ll go with you. Just let me get out of this uniform.’

It wasn’t until evening that I decided to phone Peter and realised I’d forgotten my mobile. And his dinner plans.

‘And just where have you been, young lady?’

Peter and Shaun met us in the entrance hall like fathers who’d stayed up to catch their daughters sneaking back in.

I looked at Courtney and then down at the floor. ‘Soho,’ I murmured.

‘It was all my fault,’ Courtney began valiantly. ‘Really, I was –’

‘I didn’t ask you,’ Peter said, eyeing her severely. ‘I asked Angie. But you’ll be explaining yourself as well in a minute.’

‘Yes,’ Shaun agreed. ‘You certainly will.’

‘We went out for lunch,’ I said. ‘And then we went to the shops.’

‘Which shops?’