Jana's Journey: The Complete Collection (2 page)

The first smack came like a thunderclap, sending a wave of heat and pain across her ass
cheek
. She cried out.

“You can scream, Jana, this room is soundproofed. Nobody can hear you. Nobody’s around here anyway.”

Before she could answer, more smacks came, and her ass felt like it was on fire. She howled, wiggling across his lap, again aware of the heat spreading to her breasts and now aware that there was moisture between her legs.

She felt his hand wrap in her hair, holding her in place. “Do you like that, Jana? Are you a good girl?”

“Oh god! Please stop! It hurts!” she begged.

“Ask me nicely,” he said.

“It hurts! Please, stop spanking me!”

“Say, ‘please, teacher, stop spanking my ass’.”

She was shocked to hear him say the word ass. She started to cry harder. “Okay, please, teacher, stop spanking my ass!”

More thunderous smacks came down on the hot tight cheeks of her burning
red
ass. She cried out again.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Are you going to be a little tease?”

“No! No, I won’t!”

More spanks.

“Oh, god, why? I said no!” she begged, her head pulled back as he twisted his hand in her hair. “You’re hurting me!”

“You didn’t say sir,” he said, spanking her ass harder.

“No sir! I promise I won’t be a tease! I promise I will be a good girl! I’ll be more careful with my uniform, I’ll wear a white bra, I won’t be a tease, PLEASE, SIR!” she screamed.

Finally the spanks stopped. She felt his hand on her ass still, rubbing it gently, and he was stroking her hair as she sobbed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re a good girl, Jana, you did fine. Shhhh, shhhh. I’m proud of you.” 

“Oh, god,” she moaned, wiggling back across his lap and sitting up, crying out when her reddened ass touched the sofa again, her skirt still bunched around her thighs, her makeup running down her face, her hair falling into her eyes. “I’m so sorry, sir, I’m so so sorry.” 

“Shhhh,” he said. “It’s okay.” He put his arm around her and she cried more heavily, leaning into his chest, smelling his masculine smell. She felt her heart pounding, and her body felt so hot, the fire in her ass spreading between her legs, up her back, to her breasts.

“Now, I need to see your bra, before I can let you leave,” he said softly.

“But you saw it down my shirt already,” she sobbed. “You can see down my shirt now!”

“All of it. Come on, Jana. Be a good girl,” he said firmly. “You promised not to be a little tease again.”

“I know, I know,” she said. She leaned away from him, wiping her tears away.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl, Jana? Don’t you want to take your blouse off?”

“No,” she said miserably. “I want to go home. I’ve learned my lesson, I have,” she said, plaintively.

“I need to see your bra, all of it, and you need to do what I tell you. You showed some of it to me when you came in with those buttons open; you need to show me all of it. A good girl finishes what she started, and a good girl obeys.”

“But, I didn’t understand … I can’t …” she said, eyes down. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Are you ashamed of your body? Is that it?”

“No … “ she whined, drawing the word out. “I don’t know, you’ve got me all confused …”

“And a good girl obeys her principal, too. Take off your blouse and show me the bra you wore today. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Jana didn’t answer, her body trembling.

After a moment, she leaned back, facing, him, and unbuttoned two more buttons of her shirt, opening it to show the lacy cups of her bra. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she did so, felt her heart speed up again.

“Like this?” she asked softly.

“Yes, Jana, just like that.”  He was leaning back, and his hand was moving in his lap now. “Good girl. Stand up, take off your blouse.”

Closing her eyes, obeying without a protest, she unbuttoned the white blouse, stood up and dropped in on the floor.

She stood, breathing shallowly, almost panting, feeling the red flush on her face and her chest radiating heat. So hot. She was sure he could feel it even from a few feet away.

“You like it when men look at you, don’t you, Jana?” he asked, in a low voice.

She hesitated, then nodded.

“You know that you’re one of the most beautiful girls in this school. Such a body … 36 C?”

“38,” she said. She had her arms crossed below her breasts.

“You wore that bra so you could let boys look down your shirt today, didn’t you?”  he said, standing up.

She shook her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek. 

“It’s okay. You can tell me, Jana.” 

“I thought it looked nice when I put it on,” she said, opening her eyes and looking down at herself, her breasts heaving as she struggled to control her breathing.

“It does. It does look nice. You like it when they look down your shirt, don’t you?”

After a moment, she nodded her head again.

“But you don’t let them touch, never.”

“No, sir.” It was true. Her mother had warned her that touching would lead to other things.

“Very nice, Jana. You look very nice.” 

“Thank you, sir. May I go now?” she asked.

“No, not yet. You’re not really ready yet. You haven’t really learned your lesson yet, have you?” he asked, walking around her in a circle as she stood shyly in the center of the room in her bra.

“I don’t know …” she said, feeling another tear splash on her chest.

“You’re not a tease, are you?”

She shook her head violently, tossing her honey-blonde hair. “I’m not, I’m not, stop saying that.”

“You always do what the teacher says.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, more firmly.

“Okay, take off your skirt, now,” he commanded.

Almost panting now, knowing it was wrong, but feeling a powerful jolt of pleasure pass through her in surrendering, she slipped out of her skirt and let it fall to the floor.

“How do you feel, Jana?” asked Principal Stevens.

“This is wroooongg,” she whined.

“Don’t you feel like you deserve it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Turn around, Jana. Show me your body.”

She obeyed without question now, raising her arms and doing a half-ballet turn.

“You never let the boys touch you, do you?” he asked again.

“No sir.”

“Don’t you like to be touched?”

“It’s … bad … bad things can happen.” 

He laughed at that. “Bad things. Bad things don’t happen to good girls, do they, Jana?”

He looked at here for a moment, his hand moving between his legs. “Do you like to touch yourself?”

She shook her head again, standing still, back straight, looking down at her breasts. She couldn’t look at him; it was too powerful, she felt like she’d explode if she looked at him.

“Don’t lie to me, Jana.”

“Just … sometimes. In the shower, only. How can I wash if I don’t touch myself?” she asked, pleadingly.

“I mean, touching yourself for pleasure, Jana. Not washing.”

She bit her lip.

“Answer me, Jana. Where do you touch yourself for pleasure?”

“My ... “ she looked down at her chest.

“Say it.”

“This seems wrong, I … I can’t …” 

She felt a stinging slap on her ass again, and she yelped.

“On the breasts! I touch my breasts sometimes, okay?” she said.

“Sir,” he reminded her.

“Yes, sir,” she sobbed.

“Say it again.”

“I touch my breasts for pleasure, sometimes, sir.”

“Just the breasts? Nowhere else?”

“No, sir. Only the breasts. I don’t want to ... if I touched myself somewhere else, than I might start wanting to
.
..  do bad things.”

He made a sympathetic sound behind her. “Oh, poor Jana. Such a good girl,” he said, and stroked her hair. She leaned her head back into his hand and sighed, relieved. She was a good girl.

She was shifting nervously from foot to foot now, standing straight, eyes down, still almost panting, still feeling a wetness and heat between her legs and in her belly like she’d never experienced before.

“But nobody else has ever touched them, hmm? Wouldn’t it feel good to be touched, Jana?”

She was trembling again. She couldn’t answer him. God, it would feel so good.

“Answer me, Jana,” he said into her ear. She felt the warmth and heat of him behind her, but he still wasn’t touching her.

“It would feel good,” she said in a rush.

“Do you want to touch them?”

“No, it’s dirty, I don’t do dirty things, it’s not safe, I’m a good girl, PLEASE. . .” 

“Would you rather I touched them? Is that it? Do you want me to touch them?”

“No, please! I can’t think, you’re …” she had her arms crossed in front of her now, looking down at her breasts as more tears fell.

“Do you want to touch them now?” he asked into her ear, his warm breath on her neck.

“Yes,” she whimpered. Her breasts ached, the nipples so hard, it was all she could do to keep her hands off them.

“Ask me,” he said in her ear.

“Can I touch them, sir?” she whimpered.

“You may,” he said, after what seemed an eternity.

Her hands slid up her ribcage and cupped her breasts through the soft lacy bra, her small hands barely able to cover them.

She sighed, breathing heavily, and after a pause, she began squeezing them gently. She moaned, feeling herself grow weak in the knees, feeling more tears flow down and splash on her cleavage.

“Shhh,” said Principal Stevens. “It’s okay, don’t cry. It’s all right.” He moved closer to her and kissed the tears off her cheek gently.

“It’s dirty,” she said, miserably. “It’s not safe. This isn’t right . . .” 

“Do you feel like a bad girl?” he asked, gently.

“I do,” she said.

“But you don’t want to stop, do you?” he asked.

“Nooooooo,” she said, softly, holding her tits firmly in both hands, and gasping for breath.

“What do you want to do, Jana?”

“Touch myself … ”

“So I can watch?”

“Yessssss
…”
she sighed. She was pinching her nipples through the thin lace, now, eyes closed, her breath ragged
.
It felt good, good to touch herself and good to tell the truth.

“But you never touch yourself between the legs?” he asked, still speaking softly into her ear.

“Noooo, it’s wrong ... it’s dirty
...
something bad will happen ...” she pleaded softly.

“You’re such a good girl, Jana. Go ahead. It’s okay. You can put your hand in your panties.” 

“I … please don’t … it’s wrong, I can’t … ” She was rubbing both breasts with one hand now while the other stroked her stomach below her navel.

“Shh, Jana, it’s okay, you can do it, you’re a good girl. Go ahead ...”

She let out a long, low moan as her hand slipped into her panties and touched her clit. She gasped and groaned loudly, and her finger slid easily into the wetness between her legs. She was panting now; she felt a building pressure that she was sure was probably an orgasm, though she’d never had one before.

“Jana, Jana, what would your mother think?”

She opened her eyes and looked around, and saw him making a video of her with his phone.

“Oh my god! What are you doing?” She came crashing back to reality, realizing with horror what was happening.

He smiled cruelly at her. “How could I let a beautiful moment like that pass without something to remember it by?”

“Give me that!” she said, frantic, trying to grab the phone, but he grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back.

“I see you haven’t learned your lesson quite yet,” he said into her ear, holding her arms behind her back with one arm and pulling his necktie off with the other.

“What are you doing! You can’t ...” she struggled futilely; his grip was like iron and she had no chance of escape. “Let me go! Please!” 

He tied her hands firmly together with his necktie, and then pushed her down on the sofa, raising the camera again to take another video.

“Please don’t!” she begged. “Don’t take pictures of me! What are you doing! I don’t want anyone to see me like this …”  She was crying and sobbing frantically now.

He moved to his desk and removed a pair of scissors.

“What are you going to do with that?” she said. “Please, don’t hurt me!”

She struggled to extract her arms from the tie; her breasts jiggled in the bra, her shoulders held back by the bonds.