School for Nurses (2 page)

‘Just hold still,' Marie replied, and leaned over to kiss her lips. It was a gentle kiss, a lovely kiss, so soft and affectionate that Sue became wonderfully lost in it, only realising as it went on that it was distracting her from what was happening behind her...

The old man's leathery and bony hand was touching her bottom again. She felt it move away, there was a pause during which she held her breath and closed her eyes, and then he spanked her naked cheeks. She gasped in pain, because his hand was as tough as a wicker carpet beater.

‘You naughty young thing!' He wheezed, and spanked her again with amazing strength.

‘Mm!' she tried to protest, but Marie's kiss was too insistent, her tongue darting around hers and weakening her resistance.

‘You naughty, naughty thing!' the old man repeated sternly. ‘How dare you wake me up and then do what you just did with your friend, right in front of me, on my bed? I'm going to give you the spanking your behaviour deserves!'

Never before had Sue been spanked, nor had she ever considered being spanked, but the hand of Mr Walker kept rising and falling and making her bottom so painfully hot she was very grateful when this unjust punishment finally ceased. But then she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his gristly body pressing up against hers. It was obvious his pyjama trousers were undone, gaping open to expose his crotch, and she tried to look back over her shoulder to see what he was up to, but Marie would not let her.

‘Keep still, my darling,' she murmured into Sue's ear, and pressed her friend's flushed face between her cushiony breasts.

Sue gasped against the warm, enveloping flesh as she felt Mr Walker's erect penis probing between her thighs, nudging its way closer to her exposed pussy. And then, unbelievably, she felt his rigid old cock slip between the wet lips of her sex, and penetrate her. Soft warm hands cupped and caressed her dazed face as leathery cold hands cupped and squeezed her buttocks. Then Marie's tongue invaded her mouth again in a passionate kiss and Sue came, impaled on the old man's gnarled rod, just as his cool and ancient seed erupted deep inside her warm young flesh.

 

 

 

It
is a little room, almost nothing more than a cubicle, surprisingly small for a headmaster's office. It contains the desk behind which he is seated, and a chair for me, with nothing to hide behind. His hair is going stylishly grey at his temples to match his eyes. ‘Sit down,' he instructs. ‘I'll just look this over.' He extracts a file from one of his desk drawers, a creamy manila folder from which the tips of pink slips stick out like mischievous little tongues. He opens the folder as I seat myself, crossing my arms over my chest to hold my raincoat closed. ‘Don't sit with your raincoat on,' he says without looking up again.

I promptly get up to take it off.

‘Did I tell you to stand?' he asks softly, still studying the pink slips by the light of a small desk lamp with a flexible steel neck. It is the only light in the room; there are no windows.

‘I thought...'

‘You don't know how to think,' he points out firmly, ‘that's why you're here. Sit down. If you knew how to think, or even just how to add up a simple column of figures, you wouldn't be here.'

Still wearing my raincoat, I resume my seat feeling foolish and confused. My stomach churns as I smooth down my cotton skirt. Normally I don't wear skirts, but in small print on the back of the summons was written wear a
skirt to the punishment
.

‘You have your voucher?'

I pull it out of my right pocket, a ticket stub like the kind you get at the movies, only it was the guard downstairs at the iron arch who gave me this. I lean forward to hand it to him, but then place it awkwardly on the desk beside the folder when he makes no move to accept it.

‘Your statement.' It is not a question; it is a command given an impatient edge by what almost sounds like boredom.

I turn in the chair, and pull one of the pocket's of my raincoat inside-out in my haste to extract a yellow slip of paper. I quickly place it on the desk just inside the circle of light, nervously smoothing its crumpled edges for him.

‘Don't fuss,' he snaps.

I snatch my hand back as though scalded by his cold voice.

He leans back in his chair, slips a cigarette out of a pack lying just outside the halo of light, and brings it to life with the hot blue flame of a silver lighter. Smoke streams out from between his lips as he asks, ‘Cigarette?'

I swallow nervously, and shake my head.

‘Oh, go on...' he urges mildly, ‘go on...'

I smile weakly.

‘You know you want to,' he adds, staring into my eyes.

I lean forward, and reach tentatively for the pack.

He slaps my hand back. ‘Bad girl. Two more demerits.' He picks up a pen with his free hand and makes a note in my file.

I gasp, ‘But you...'

‘“Lead us not into temptation”,' he quotes without looking up. ‘It's your job to make sure you don't get led astray. I can't always be there looking out for you.'

I glance around the room. I don't see any paddles, or any other instruments of correction, and I wonder what he is going to punish me with.

Dropping the pen, he deliberately knocks some ash onto the floor. ‘Pick that up for me,' he says.

My eyebrows arch questioningly.

‘Pick that up for me,' he repeats. ‘Are you deaf?'

I get up, walk around the desk, and then sink down onto my hands and knees to scoop some of the ashes up onto my fingertips.

‘Use this.' He hands me the statement of my demerits.

I run the edge of the paper beneath the ashes, and flick them into the wastebasket beside the desk.

‘Good,' he says, ‘very good. Now take off your coat.'

My knees feel weak as I stand up and the blood rushes to my head. He is so close, only a hand's length away. I start unbuttoning my raincoat.

He follows my fingers with his eyes, moving down from one button to another as he raises the cigarette to his lips, and lowers it again, blowing the smoke away from me so as not to obscure his view. He is staring at my breasts, which are visible now between the flaps of my coat, and I feel myself blushing. I am standing before him in a short skirt, flat shoes, gym socks and nothing else, all according to the warrant, which clearly states,
no shirt and no panties, nothing between skin and the outer shell at punishment
.

‘Go on,' he says patiently.

I turn around slowly, feeling his eyes on my bare skin as I shrug the stiff material off my shoulders. The cool air caresses my back where I've been perspiring between my shoulder blades against the silk lining. My skirt rides up slightly beneath a gentle electric current of static-cling as I slip the coat off completely, and take a few steps away from the desk to hang it on a hook behind the door.

‘Now turn around.'

I fight the urge to cross my arms over my naked breasts as I turn to face him again.

‘Put your hands behind your back.'

Standing perfectly still, I obey him, staring at his face while he studies my breasts.

‘Eyes straight ahead,' he commands.

I reluctantly look away from his intent expression.

‘Shoulders square and legs at ease,' he elaborates tersely.

I pull my shoulders back, and feel my soft mounds thrust up and out as I do so. My nipples are already hard from the prolonged weight of his eyes.

‘Good,' he says approvingly. ‘Now, come here.'

I focus on him again as he puts his cigarette out in a glass ashtray, casually crushing the butt beneath his thumb.

‘Come sit right here where I can look at you.' He pushes his chair back.

There is no mistaking where he means, and I am surprised by my own lack of hesitation as I go and perch on the edge of the desk in front of him.

‘Sit on it.'

I lift my bum carefully up onto the hard surface, but I cannot keep from rustling some papers in the process, and then shyly cross my arms over my bare breasts again.

‘Hands on your head,' he says sternly, ‘and don't crease the statements you're sitting on or that'll be more demerits added to your tab.'

I raise my arms and plant my hands on my head. I am squeezed between him and the edge of the desk, my skirt almost brushing his black trousers.

He looks up at my face and then down at my lap, and I spread my thighs apart so his legs can come forward under the desk and close the gap between us without touching. I am sitting on a man's desk in a very small room, naked except for a skirt that ends just above my knees, with my legs spread wide.

‘Let me just make sure you understand.' He leans forward so I feel his breath on my skin as he speaks. ‘The system mandates that charges incurred and not met require that each separate erogenous zone be punished in increasingly intimate steps according to the scale of the debt. Because you have acquired so many debits,' he glances briefly down at the pink statements lying between my thighs, ‘you are obliged to come bare-breasted and wearing nothing beneath your skirt. Am I right?'

I nod, feeling light-headed.

‘So, with this many demerits outstanding, I get to do this...' He reaches up and grabs my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I get to massage it, and press it...'

I gasp as he pinches my nipple.

‘I get to pull it...' He tugs on it gently, and I find myself bending forward towards his mouth as his other hand comes up to touch my right breast. I recoil, because for some reason I am not ready for this yet, but he grasps my whole breast firmly, holding my body in place as his mouth reaches my left nipple. Still gripping it between his fingers, he tongues the very tip of it.

‘Oh!' I cry softly.

He takes his hand off my right breast as my body leans willingly into his mouth, and his tongue orbits my tense nipple for a few more seconds before he suddenly sits back. ‘I can also explore your oral reflexes.' His right hand caresses the side of my neck on its way up, and his fingers lightly stroke my cheek before he presses his thumb against my mouth.

Moaning stubbornly, I keep my lips sealed.

Very gently, he bites my nipple.

‘Oh!' I exclaim again, and his thumb slips into my mouth. I close my eyes and suck on it blindly, not understanding my reaction but not really questioning it either.

‘Good girl,' he murmurs, and we sit there with his mouth working on my firm nipple and my tongue working on his hard thumb until he suddenly pulls it out and pushes his chair back. My nipple immediately feels cold without his warm lips around it, bereft, and I shiver to feel the room's chilly air on my chest again.

‘I think you're ready now,' he says. ‘How many demerits was it?'

I lift my thigh slightly so he can pull the statement out from beneath it.

‘Ah,
this
many. Would you prefer having your skirt on, or off?'

‘Do I...?'

‘Do you have a choice? No, of course not. I am only offering you a courtesy, as a gentleman. Would you like to have a cigarette and think about it?'

I look at him anxiously.

‘You've already got two demerits for it, you can't get more, so why not enjoy the smoke? Go on,' he holds the pack up for me, ‘you know you want to.'

I take the cigarette from the packet, and he lights it for me. His silver lighter flashes in the lamplight as he snaps it closed, and I take my first puff. The room feels funny as the smoke fills my lungs.

‘Very good.' He smiles as I exhale. ‘You understand your debts were sufficient to necessitate the punishment of both your mouth and your breasts, but now, of course...' He leans back in his chair. ‘Another four on the bill, plus expenses. I don't smoke. You'll have to cover the cost of the cigarettes, I'm afraid; they're your little weakness. That gives me your bottom for punishment, and... oh, I suppose that gives me everything. Lift your skirt. Don't make me wait.'

‘But I didn't
want
the cigarette,' I protest breathlessly.

‘I only bought the pack because I knew you'd want one,' he corrects me, and puts one of his hands on my thigh beneath the skirt. ‘Never mind, just take your time. Finish the cigarette.' Slowly, he slides his hand up to my bottom, and then lifting it slightly brings it back down again hard.

‘Oh!' I exclaim.

‘Get up and bend over the desk,' he orders in a thick voice.

I glance down at the hard-on straining against his slacks as my feet touch the floor and I turn around obediently. I feel his eyes on my bottom, and then his hands as he parts my warm cheeks.

‘This won't take long,' he whispers in my ear before he spanks me again.

His skin stings mine as it strikes and how hard his palm is comes as a shock that spreads a strangely delicious heat through my body. He spanks me again, and then again, and I feel my face getting as red as my bum from the shame of realising I am enjoying this.