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Mick Britton: Third Lesson

By: Xantu



 Here is a third installment in my Mick and Missy's story. I wrote this as a gift for a special person. All characters in this story are fictional.

I have had fun writing this story about a student that deliberately mocks and humiliates his teacher using her own language to subjugate and dominate her. This is a very special education.

Enjoy, 

xantu 


Mick Britton: Third Lesson, Home Tutoring

Miss Seybold paused and looked out at the parking lot. Her classroom was in a locked and deserted part of the school. But now the most dangerous portion of her journey stood before her. Her car was parked in the parking lot adjacent to the gym. There were always people around from the high school athletic department during this time of evening. Extracurricular activities brought a parade of people coming and going from the gym doors, especially on a Friday night.

If she was seen in this outfit at work, in this state she could kiss her job good bye. But letting a nineteen year old boy tie her down to her desk, in her classroom, whip her and fuck her was lethally dangerous as well and she had not even taken the time to consider the risks. The screaming insane need had erased all caution in her mind and she was drunk with the freedom.

There were several dozen cars still parked in the lot. Her mouth was dry with fear and she made a resolution to start parking closer to the building in the future, preferably in a darker corner of the lot. At this particular moment she couldn't see anyone in the parking lot. It was now or never. She got her remote door lock key fob and pointed it at her car and unlocked the doors. Running her fingers through her hair, she pulled a concealing curtain over her face and began to walk quickly toward her car. She told herself that even if someone saw her that there was no way they would recognize her with her hair down and in this outfit, they would be looking everywhere except her face.

She was halfway car when a group of boys burst out of the gym doors. She kept her face averted and concentrated on walking but she heard a loud whistle and another boy yelled something about her legs. She quickly got into her car and pulled out the far exit of the parking lot. As she stopped at the stop sign she looked in her rear view mirror and caught sight of her face. Her eyes were still red and swollen and the red lipstick smeared around her mouth made her look cheap and slutty yet somehow vulnerable as well.

She deliberately chose a drug store that she had only been to once before. It did not even occur to her once to disobey him, to comb her tousled hair or button up her blouse. She could feel the eyes of the clerks and the few customers on her as she stood in line at the pharmacy. The face of the pharmacist was curious and somewhat concerned, as he filled the morning after prescription. 

As he handed her the medication in a bag, he asked, "Are you doing all right tonight ma'am?"

Miss Seybold grinned boldly and leaned forward, well aware she was showing her whole ass, still bright red and welted from this evenings lesson, to the people in line behind her and in a deliberately loud stage whisper, she confided. "I just got fucked." She dropped some cash on the counter and walked out.

He called after her. "Ma'am don't you want a receipt?"

Miss Seybold did not answer. 

She lived in the house she grew up in. It was a quiet neighborhood, most of the residents who lived there were older retired people who did not come out at night. Her mother had passed away and left the house to her. It was too big for her alone but it meant no rent payments. She pushed the automatic garage door opener and drove her little car into the neat garage.

She looked at her watch. She had about twenty minutes to shower, take the medication and be kneeling by the door. She quickly looked around the house. It still looked like her mother's house. Crocheted doilies sat on the arms of the furniture, dozens of little knickknacks littered the surfaces of the tables and shelves, the accumulation of a lifetime of children and grandchildren. A deep layer of dust covered it all. She could not bear to look at it much less touch it, clean it. 

Miss Seybold was the spinster daughter and her brother and twin sisters had all agreed she should have the house. She could not help but think they had burdened her with all this stuff of her mother's because they had not wanted to deal with it themselves. 

A shiver of dread shook her. How could she have agreed to let that boy come here? She looked at her watch and cursed, "Shit." She had been standing there ten minutes. She sped into the bathroom and tore off the costume and got into the shower before the water even got hot. 

She was on her knees by the unlocked front door rubbing a towel across her dripping body when he walked in. He was carrying the same duffle bag and a large tool box. He dropped them beside her and walked past her like she wasn't even there.

Miss Seybold jumped up to follow him into her house. He stopped and spoke without turning. "Missy, I did not give you permission to stand. You will stay where you are and not speak until spoken to." She quickly returned back to her place and knelt at facing the door.

She could not help turning to look at what he was doing. He stood for a minute turning and then headed into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. His voice carried from the kitchen. "In the future I expect to find some beer in here, something imported." He came out with a diet Coke in his hand. "You will stay here. I want to look around." He wandered into the living room and looked toward her with a pained look on his face. "This ain't you." He leaned down and ran his finger through the dust on the trinket covered coffee table. "You don't even come in here."

He was right. She really only used the kitchen, the bathroom and her bedroom. He walked past her and for the first time stopped and turned looking down at her. For the first time his eyes seeming to take in the fact she was naked. She could feel his gaze examining her. She shivered as he ran a finger down the length of her spine. He grinned, "You have a pretty back." He turned and walked up the stairs. 

She visualized him looking through the three bedrooms and the bathroom that was up there. Her room was the only one that she had really taken possession of. She had taken all the crap from her childhood and boxed it up and put it in the attic. She had put a computer and a television in her room and a comfortable recliner, that and her bed was all she needed. She ate standing in the kitchen or at a coffee table in front of her TV in her room. 

The other two bedrooms were exactly like her mother had left them. Her mother's room still held her clothing and smelled like lavender and mothballs. The other room had been the twins' and was like a time capsule from the ninety's, when they had both left for college, married and never really looked back.

He came back down the stairs and looked at her strangely. He started to say something and then stopped himself. Then he looked thoughtful. "You got a basement?"

"Yes Mick Sir." She pointed at a door. "That is to the stairs down."

He nodded and headed down. She found herself following along with him in her mind. Seeing the big open room with the ping pong table and old TV and couch that had been the called the play room when she was growing up. A wide archway with curtains provided some privacy to her brother's room. Her brother had taken most of his belongings and had either sold them or given them away. The only things left in what had been his room were a twin bed, a scarred metal desk and an old office chair. The only other room was a laundry room with a big shower and toilet in one corner.

His feet were loud and heavy as he came back up the stairs. He came to stand in front behind her. "This ain't your house. Nothing in this house is yours. What the fuck you doing here?"

Her voice sounded trapped and sad. "What have I been doing here? ...not much... no, that is not true... I have been doing nothing!" Her voice got louder and took on a tone of hysteria. "Yes, a whole lot of doing fucking nothing! ...unless you count getting old and waiting to die!" 

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, giving her a shake. "Missy shut up." 

She stood looking at him, her face wet with tears, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Her lips were pressed together; she was clearly struggling to control herself. Suddenly she yanked her arm from his grasp and gave him a sharp shove in the chest. "My name is not missy! My fucking name is Sarah, Sarah Seybold. And this is my house, and every stupid dusty meaningless bullshit piece of shit in this horrible house is mine!" Turning abruptly she wildly knocked a group of fragile porcelain figurines off a decorative shelf, smashing them to the floor. 

Mick grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest. "Missy, stop." His voice was quieter but seemed to get her attention this time. She collapsed against him sobbing. Deep gut wrenching sobs, tearing up from the depths of her soul, shook her. She would have collapsed to the floor if he had not held her tightly.

He did not speak or stroke her hair. He just stood statue still holding her in his iron strong arms. She clung to him like he was the only thing that could save her life. 

She had never been able to face this grief and horror before. If she had she would have never had survived. Only now with the strength and stringent demands that Mick had placed on her did she dare to even glimpse the hopeless barrenness of her existence. Now in his arms she knew that he would never let her go and never let her die this slow suffocating death.

Gradually her sobs subsided, calming to the soft gasping hiccups of a child's grief. He pushed her away and looked down at her. "You finished with that?"

Mutely she nodded. Her voice was raw, "Yes Mick Sir."

"Good." He leaned down and picked up the duffle bag and shoved it into her arms. "You carry this." He picked up the heavy tool box. "Come." And he turned to go down the stairs.

He put the tool box down in the larger play room and gestured for her to follow him into the room that had been her brother's room. He pointed at the bare mattress on the twin bed. "Sit." Once she was seated, he opened the tool box and got out a screw driver. "We will use this space for our classroom."

He began to remove the curtain rod from the wide archway that separated the bedroom area from the larger play room. "We won't need these curtains." He carefully looked at the heavy brass curtain rod and looked thoughtful and carefully leaned it up in a corner.

As she sat still holding the duffle bag in her lap, she watched him and thought about how empty she felt right at that moment. The experiences of the last two days had somehow transformed her and the tears seemed to have drained her of the last vestiges of her old cautious, sensible personality. She was intensely aware that she was changing into something, someone different. Her little antic in the pharmacy was alien and exciting. Sarah Seybold would never have been able to walk into that pharmacy dressed like that and would never ever have said something about being fucked to a complete stranger. Sarah would never have even said the word fuck. That was all missy. 

Mick got out a drill and bored some holes in the corners of the wide archway, one in each upper corner and one near the floor on either side. He also added one more in the very center. He took a handful of heavy eye bolts and screwed them into the holes he had drilled. "Get the ropes out of the duffle bag and come here."

As she opened the bag she saw her dress and the cat of nine tails on the top and she felt a rush of fear and excitement. She pulled the white ropes out and saw that that under them were a number of objects. There was a phallic object with a flaring base that she decided must have been the thing he had put up her bottom, the thing he had called a butt plug. Her anus contracted at the thought. It had hurt and she hated the idea, but still once he had turned on the buzzing vibrations it had tormented her relentlessly. After a while all she could think of was how she needed to come. There were other things in the bag with it. The ball gag and a blindfold lay next to a frighteningly large penis shaped dildo.

Mick's voice was sharp and impatient, "Missy!"

She dropped the bag and hurried to him. He took the ropes from her hands and stood looking at her frowning. "Got a little distracted by my toy collection?"

"Yes Mick Sir." Her voice was a little tense.

"That reminds me." He nodded at the desk. "Lean over the desk. We should put that plug back up your ass."

Her eyes shot to his face, a tiny protest escaped her, "Now?"

He looked at her, his head tipped to one side. "Missy, remember your first two lessons. Number one was to shut up and listen and the second was to obey. You are not showing me either. I think you are forgetting who the teacher is and who the student here is. I urge you to focus on that." His voice cracked, "Now fucking lean over that desk before I lose my patience."

She jumped and hurried over and laid her face down on the surface. "I am not going to tie you for this Missy. I will expect you to not only accept this assignment; I demand you cooperate. Reach back with your hands Missy and spread your cheeks and hold them apart for me."

As she reached back and put her hands on her the cheeks of her ass and pulled them apart, she could feel the cool air on her damp crotch. A wave of shame and excitement rolled over her. She felt her cunt spasm and a warm drop of fluid spilled out and started to trickle down her thigh. 

"Do not let go of your ass and keep it spread wide." She felt the same cold lube on her crack and his fingers sliding down the valley between her legs. He would start at the very top of her ass and slide down over her tensely closed anus and then down to toy with her clitoris and massage her labia and even taking the time to work his way around her lower belly. A soft moan of happiness shook her and she spread her legs wider and arched her back. 

Mick reversed the direction of his travel and moved back taking his time, touching and massaging every part of her slowly and sensually until he was back at her brown star. This time he slowly ran his finger around and around the small star of her anus. She stood very still, her fingers tensing and quivering. When he moved down away from her ass toward her softer more welcoming folds, she moaned again, her legs starting to sag and tremble. 

He chuckled, "My little student has no objections to learning about her cunt." As he began to work her clitoris, he began to rub at her anus with his other hand. As she flinched and moaned, her whole pelvis was pitching and rocking. When he slowly pushed his fingers into her ass, opening and spreading her small brown opening, Missy groaned and pushed against him. Mick praised her, "Yes that is the enthusiastic attitude I was looking for."

Missy felt the harder deeper intrusion of the butt plug, but it was not so frightening this time. His touches on her clitoris were overwhelming her senses and all the other sensations were just adding to her soaring excitement. As he slid the butt plug in and out of her throbbing ass, he turned on the vibrations and she lost her grasp on her cheeks. She vainly, mindlessly reached to touch him and then froze her whole body seized, going rigid with the huge orgasm that had taken control of her. Finally a deep primal groan ripped from her and she began to convulse under his hands. He laughed and called to her, "Yes missy, that's the attitude," and pushed the plug deeply into her, letting her pulsing anus close around the narrow neck, locking it deep inside her. As she slowly calmed he turned off the vibrations and softened his touches on her wet and swollen folds.

Missy lay limp and boneless over the desk, her eyes were closed, breathing softly out of her open mouth. Occasionally a tiny tremor of remembered passion would quiver through her. 

Mick gave her a soft swat on her still red and welted ass and spoke sharply, "Missy, go lie down for a while."

She raised her head and blinked, her expression confused and disoriented, "Sir?"

He looked over at the mattress. "Lie down on the bed, rest a little while."

"Yes Mick Sir." She pushed herself up off the desk. He smirked as he watched her adjust herself to the large plug in her ass and the totter toward the bed. A soft sigh shook her as she lowered herself to the bare mattress and curled up on her side, her eyes open, looking at him with a dazed and awed expression. 

Mick looked down at her with an amused expression and chuckled slowly shaking his head. "You are getting to like this, little missy."

Sarah was completely gone, she was all missy, as she watched him moving around the larger room moving the couch to one side and taking the legs off the ping pong table and measuring along the length of it and making marks here and there. He returned to his tool box and took out a small portable circular saw and carefully cut a couple of feet off one end. He looked at her and grinned. "I doubt you were playing much ping pong lately."

He leaned the shortened table top up, and taking a power drill, screwed it flush to the wall. He turned to her, "Missy come here I want to measure something and I need your help." Again he smirked she winced and adjusted to the intruder in her bottom. Once she got to him he pulled her to him and kissed her for the first time since he had arrived at her house. She melted into his arms and let him take her mouth, humming soft happy sighs. 

When he released her, he pushed her back and looked at her nude form, taking in her figure. His eyes followed her shape. She had narrow shoulders, small breasts, and a very narrow waist. The exaggerated slimness of her upper body emphasized the wide curve of her hips and ass. She had a thick triangle of dark brown pubic hair and long shapely legs, making her look slightly taller than her 5'6". 

"I find you very pleasing missy." He ran his fingers through the thick thatch hiding her sex, "But we might need to trim this up. You are hiding something from me. I don't want you to ever hide anything from me." Her eyes were locked on his face mesmerized, nodding in response to each of his statements. He pulled her to him one more time and as their mouths met he reached down and turned on the vibrator in her ass, laughing into her mouth as she gasped and jerked.

"OK let's get this measuring done." Like a dancer, he spun around and taking her hands he raised them up and pinned her against the green plywood surface of the former ping pong table. "Hold your hands up like that." As she stayed frozen against the wall he reached down and pushed at her legs. "Spread out for me missy, wide as you can." When the insides of her thighs were taut and quivering he murmured, "Good job missy. Stay there like that for me." He began to make marks all around her body from her ankles to her wrists, up around her head and back down the other side. "OK you can move away now."

Mick looked at her thoughtfully and then spoke, "Missy do you have any belts in the house? Leather belts?"

"Yes Mick Sir. I am sure I can find some."

"Good go up and bring me every leather belt you can find, the more the better." He gave her a quick swat on the bottom as she headed up the stairs. "And hurry up about it."

She found herself feverishly digging through her dresser and then she went into her mother's room and found a treasure trove of about a dozen leather belts each one a different color. She grimaced as she remembered her mother's carefully matched shoes, belts and purses. A tiny rebellious giggle bubbled up. She wondered what her mother would think about Mick and better yet, what she would think about missy. 


Mick Britton: Third Lesson Continued



Miss Smith continues her home studies. She rarely is conscious of being anything other than missy. There is much to learn.

Enjoy

xantu


At first missy could not figure out where she was. She woke to the sense that she was falling and her whole body jerked against the belts holding her, instinctively trying to catch herself. Only then did she remember her choice to stay strapped to the wall.

It seemed like each time Mick touched her it lit even greater fires of maddening passion in her and when he had inflamed her and then left her there in an agony of frustrated lust he had said to her to choose. She could choose orgasm and to remain strapped to this board hardly able to move or to suffer her need unfulfilled. She had not hesitated a second, not only did she crave the blinding ecstasy more than air itself, she craved the straps. She feared freedom more than she feared death.

The room was empty. She did not know where Mick had gone, but she knew somehow in her heart he would be back. There was a bond that stretched between them. He owned her and yet she knew that she held his heart in her hand. 

She could barely turn her head but she cast her eyes toward the stairs as she heard a loud series of bangs and thumps coming down them. Her heart jumped and a tiny smile flickered across her lips as she saw him wrestling the large recliner down from her bedroom, dragging it down the stairs one step at a time. 

She did not speak; she knew she did not have permission. She waited, her eyes drinking him in. He was whip lean, all bones and wire, with high cheekbones and slanting smoke colored eyes. His skin was dark and his too long black hair was thick and straight. He looked wild, like an Indian warrior, or a Mongol Prince. Miss Smith had no knowledge of his background. He had never spoken of a family. She had never even seen him socialize with the other students at the high school. She did know that none of the bullies or jocks met his eye, and they all seemed to step wide of him, as instinctively aware of the anger and violence hidden under the surface as she had been.

He had always arrived early to her class and always had been one of the last to leave but had rarely spoken to her. He just followed her with his eyes. And then he would gather his books and papers, nod a curt good bye and she knew he would be there again the next day. He was not a good student, turning in only average work, but he never missed an assignment and seemed content with the C's and D's he earned.

When he had dropped out the previous year, she had missed him, wondering where he had gone. She had been pleased when she saw his name back on the registrations lists. She had told herself it was a teacher's pleasure at seeing a student determined to graduate, to succeed, and she had believed that was true. There was no way the Miss Smith could have ever thought any other way about a student, even a nineteen year old returning senior. But Micky Britton had seen something in her that she had not even known existed.

He had seen missy, or what was to become missy. He had looked into her heart and seen the thing inside her that was desperate to escape the pointless routine of her meaningless drab existence. He had set that thing free and named her missy.

His eyes met hers as she watched him drag the large leather recliner across the room and situate it so he could have a good view of her and the rest of the room. "You got cable?"

"I have a satellite dish but it is only connected to the television in my room." She paused and then added, "Mick Sir."

"I can string some cable down here I guess." He looked around the room. "We will be spending most of our time down here, missy." 

A kind of nagging worry kept eating at her, a panicked voice way in the distance. How long was he planning on staying here? What if the school found out? She could lose her job. The neighbors would notice his car. They were old friends of her mother and not particularly discreet. Gossiping was all many of them had left in their lonely lives. She was becoming intensely aware that Miss Smith was starting to take over her thinking, that missy was getting pushed into the back of her awareness.

A small wave of panic swept over her and she tested the strength of the straps holding her to the wall. She could not keep her silence anymore. "How long are you going to be here?" Her voice was tense with anxiety and doubt.

Mick looked at her, his head tipped to one side. Miss Smith looked back, tried to meet his eyes but faltered and looked away. But her fears still raged inside her. "What if someone finds out? If someone finds out, I could get fired. You can't live here."

"No one will find out."

"But your car, someone will see your car. My neighbors are nosy they will see and they will talk."

Mick got up and walked to her, he put his hand over her mouth. "Missy shut up."

Her eyes were wide and filled with fear as his hand pressed her lips to her teeth, trapping her words in her mouth. A soft sob of terror rose up her throat and swelled her cheeks before leaking out her nose. 

He leaned close and spoke softly firmly. "I am going to take my hand off your mouth but you are going to remember your first lesson. I am going to ask you some questions. You will answer them and only answer them; do you understand?"

Miss Smith nodded as much as she could with the belt around her neck holding her tight to the wall. 

Mick removed his hand. "Good. Now missy what is your first lesson."

Miss Smith took a deep shuddering breath and muttered, "Shut up and listen." Her voice was suddenly dark with rebellion.

Mick frowned at her tone, but continued, "Now tell me your second lesson."

Her eyes flashed up at his and stared, challenging him to do something. "I am supposed to fucking obey."

His response was quick and harsh; the slap would have rocked her if she was not so tightly bound. The second one was even more violent. Her ears rang with the force of it and her cheeks burned and ached. She tasted blood in her mouth and her tongue instinctively found the tiny cut on the inside of her cheek. She looked at him in shock, her mouth gaping and her eyes terrified.

His voice was quivering with rage. "Missy your third lesson is respect. You will always speak to me with respect." He raised his hand again and she closed her eyes and braced herself but the blow did not come. She heard his feet heavy and loud as he stomped up the stairs. A pang of alarm shook her as she heard the front door slam.

She had no way to measure time. A dry calm voice in the back of her head told her that most likely a minute would seem like an hour with nothing to do but hang there. She listened intently for some clue as to the passing of time, but it was deep in the night and it was a very quiet neighborhood. The only sounds were the subtle creaks and ticks of the old house as it slowly warmed and cooled, she could not hear the old gas heater in the utility room off the back porch but she could almost feel the vibration through the walls of the house when the fan would kick on. She found herself counting the cycles, letting the belt around her neck support the weight of her head, her eyelids sagging shut.

She was jerked awake by the loud sound of his feet on the stairs. He was freshly showered and wearing different clothing when he stood before her, he had dark circles of fatigue under his eyes and he smelled of cigarettes. She had never seen him smoke and he had never tasted of cigarettes when he had kissed her. She wondered who he had been around that smoked. 

His voice dropped into his familiar 'teacher' tone. "Missy what is your first lesson?"

This time her voice was soft and obedient. "Be quiet and listen Mick Sir."

He smiled and nodded, "That is the proper attitude and behavior for a student. Now what is your second lesson?"

"I must obey my teacher, Mick Sir."

"And your third lesson?"

"I must be respectful?" She was not sure. He had never exactly spoken this lesson, this rule until last night. Before last night she would have answered that it was something to do with spanking. 

He nodded, "Close enough missy. Your third lesson is that you must treat me with respect at all times, in your words, in your tone, in your facial expressions, in your posture."

"Your fourth lesson is that you must accept each and every lesson, every assignment I give you with an enthusiastic attitude. I expect you to approach each learning experience with cooperation and a zeal to learn." 

He playfully touched her nose and then her nipple but his eyes were serious. "I can see your fears, and I agree there is some risk to you in this relationship. You must trust me to be discreet missy. No one has seen me come or go from your house. I have parked my truck a distance down the alley from your house. I will only come and go under the cover of darkness. At school I will be Micky and you will be Miss Smith. There will be no more lessons at school. I will not live here." He paused and smiled, "At least I will not live here... yet." 

He stroked her nipple again, and a shiver shook her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes Mick Sir." 

"Now tell me how you are feeling?"

She stopped and took stock. Her whole body felt numb from being strapped to the wall for so long. She was thirsty and hungry, but most pressing of all was the need to pee. Her bladder was about to burst. "I am tired of standing here Sir, but worst of all, I have to pee really bad." Her tone had dwindled to a little girl pleading with the last words.

"If I let you free are you going to obey the first four lessons?"

"Yes Mick Sir, I promise."

"Say them one more time for me."

"Lesson one is shut up and listen, lesson two is obey, lesson three is to treat you with respect in all things, and lesson four is to... to..." She hesitated trying to reduce it down to a simple phrase, "...to have a good attitude."

Mick was unbuckling the straps as she spoke. "Good missy. Now tell me who you are and who I am." 

As the last straps holding her to the wall were released she staggered and almost fell. Mick caught her in his arms and held her tightly. She spoke her words against his chest. "I am missy, your student, and you are Mick Sir, my teacher and owner."

He held her steady and carefully walked her to the bathroom. "A very perceptive statement my little student, for it is true that I own you." 

She had to pee too badly to hesitate or think about needing privacy; she sighed and made a happy moaning sound as she finally could ease the pressure in her bladder. "Oh I really needed to do that. Thank you Mick Sir."

After she had wiped and stood, he spoke again. "Take the plug out of your ass. It will probably have some shit on it. Wash it and wash your ass and then give it to me." Missy stiffened and blushed. The thing had been in her ass for so long she had almost forgotten about it. It had stopped vibrating hours ago; she realized the batteries must have run out.

Her face was hot with embarrassment as she pulled and twisted to get the thing out, she ended up grunting and pushing with her stomach help expel it. Her tissues had absorbed most of the lubricant and it dragged at her as she pulled at it. She could see several dark brown specks and streaks on the pink plastic and she hurriedly scrubbed it clean with soap and hot water. She used a wash cloth to clean her whole crotch and then washed her hands thoroughly. She avoided his eyes as she handed him the toy.

"You still hate the idea of something in your ass don't you missy?"

Her eyes were nervous and fearful. "It just seems... um... dirty, Mick Sir."

"Well it can certainly be shitty at times. But we all know shit happens, so you better get used to the idea. I have decided that until we get you on regular birth control it will be the path most taken. I will expect you to remember lesson four."

"Yes Mick Sir."

"I am going to crash for a while. I want you to get dressed and go to the store. I will give you a list of things to get. Go and get me some paper and something to write with."

She was back with the items in her hand, both a pen and a freshly sharpened pencil, in less than a minute, almost running in her hurry to obey. He nodded and smiled at her eagerness. "That's the attitude missy. I expect you to keep it up. Now go get dressed. I don't care what you wear, but try to look nice. Come back for your list when you get back."

She pulled on a pair of faded form fitting jeans over a pair of black bikini underwear. Her lingerie was her one rebellion against aging. She was damned if she was going to wear old lady bras and underwear. She chose a soft silky white blouse and on impulse decided to not wear a bra. Her breasts were small enough that she did not need the support. The only reason she wore bras was because her nipples were so large that they showed through even the thickest of her sweaters. Now they were sliding against the smooth fabric and saucily erect, pressing boldly against the soft fabric. A pair of flat sandals finished the outfit. She did not wear jewelry. She had stopped wearing jewelry years ago.

She brushed her teeth and quickly ran a brush through her thick brown hair, frowning at the gray hairs that were becoming increasingly obvious. She put a light coat of powder on her face and quickly coated her lips with red lipstick and headed downstairs.

Mick looked up from the desk where he had been writing. "You look nice." His eyes slid down to her nipples pressing against the fabric. "I like the way your tits look in that shirt. You ain't wearing a bra are you?"

"No Mick Sir." 

"I like that. OK go get some sheets and blankets. I want you to make this bed." He stifled a yawn with a fist.

He continued to write as she deftly made the bed. When she was finished she stood nervously, shifting from one foot to another. He spoke without looking up. "If a student has completed all their work they should kneel near their teacher's feet to indicate that they are ready for a new task. That student will wait patiently until their teacher has time to devote to their next assignment."

Missy quickly dropped to her knees. She shivered in excitement when he began to idly stroke her hair as he wrote. Finally he yawned again and dropped the pencil. "That's enough for now." He stood and kicking the old chair out of the way began to unbutton his shirt. She watched in fascination as he stripped all his clothes off. He was smooth and deeply tanned from the waist up, making the lighter skin of his ass and legs look white in contrast, but she knew even the untanned skin was darker than hers. His cock nestled in a patch of black hair, it was not fully erect but she could see it was swelling under her gaze. She unconsciously licked her lips and the swallowed.

Mick moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Come here missy. You can help your teacher go to sleep." Her eyes flashed up to his face and then returned to the swelling flesh that hypnotized her. She crept to him on her knees and looked up at him uncertain. "Suck my cock missy, just a nice simple blowjob to help your teacher sleep."

As she took his cock in her mouth, he continued to speak. "After you are done, take the list and do all the things on it. I will expect breakfast at noon. Don't wake me up before that." She made an assenting 'mmm hmph' as she worked her lips up and down his shaft, sucking and licking eagerly at the flesh filling her mouth. She felt his hands on her face, giving her gentle nudges, controlling the pace of her movements, speeding her up as his muscles tensed and the cock in her mouth swelled even larger. His voice was tense and hoarse, "Deeper, go deeper damn it. Use your hand; jack me off as you go up and down. Yes, fuck yes, like that." His fingers tensed and pushed her face down, driving the hot flesh deeper in her throat and held her there as he filled her mouth with the hot salty ropes of come. 

Mick sagged back into the bed and pulled the covers over himself, his eyes were closed before she was on her feet. 

Missy picked up the paper and backed silently out of the room. Once upstairs she sat at the kitchen table and looked at the list. 

Breakfast at noon: steak, eggs, hash browns, orange juice, milk (whole milk)

Dinner: Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, chocolate cake 

Case beer: corona.

2 lengths of chain, 30 ft each... dog chain OK, four padlocks

Dog collar big enough to fit your neck and small padlock and leash

CD player

Thin exercise pad

AA batteries: at least a couple dozen

Condoms: big package

Desk lamp

Lubricant: KY or Astroglide... water base

Shaving cream and razors: triple blade

Black hair dye

Black eyeliner and mascara

Blood red lipstick

Small rubber bands

Missy looked at her watch. It was early only 7:00am. She had plenty of time. It was almost 10:00am when she was unloading the stuff from the car. She put all the nonfood items carefully by the door leading down to the basement and put away the groceries. She was starving and quickly put some bread in the toaster. She could feel a headache coming on from the lack of caffeine and low blood sugar. She made a small pot of coffee. She always put several teaspoons of sugar in her coffee, making it almost syrup. She was sitting at the table sipping at the sweet hot coffee, nibbling on dry toast when Mick walked into the kitchen.

Missy jumped to her feet and looked at her watch in alarm. It was only 11:00. She had all the things laid out to make his breakfast and was waiting until it was closer to noon to get started on cooking. He had pulled on his jeans but was bare foot and naked from the waist up. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy. He looked younger than his nineteen years.

"I am sorry, did I wake you, Mick Sir."

"I smell coffee."

"Yes Sir, I made myself some to wake up. Would you like some?"

He nodded and sat down at the table. She poured a cup and asked, "Do you take anything in it Sir?"

He shook his head, "Just black."

After he picked up the cup and took a swallow, he looked at her critically. "I will require you to be naked unless otherwise directed. Go to your room and put away your clothing and come back. Always undress when you get home from running errands." Missy scurried up to her room, too much in a hurry to remember to speak a response.

Naked she stood uncertainly a brief second and then knelt at his feet, waiting. He sat for several minutes sipping his coffee and then reached down and took the arm with a watch on it and lifted it, checking the time. "Go ahead and make breakfast." He took the watch off her wrist and put it down on the table.

"Yes Mick Sir." She busied herself making his breakfast. "How do you want your steak cooked Sir?" 

"Rare."

As the hash browns turned golden in the pan and the steak sizzled in another, she set the table. When she put two plates on the table he held up a hand, stopping her. He spoke softly. "A student does not eat at the same table as her teacher." She nodded and took one plate away, silently wondering if she was ever going to get a chance to eat this weekend. Her stomach growled in protest and she shot an apprehensive look toward his face, but he appeared to have not noticed.

He told her to fry him four eggs over easy, and after she put the plate in front of him he looked at the floor by his feet. "A student who is finished with her work..." He did not need to finish the sentence. Missy was already at his feet.

He was silent as he ate but he frequently reached down and touched her hair. Each caress stirred up her feelings making her lean toward him. One time turning and pressing her lips to his hand as he touched her cheek. He gave her a gentle warning tap on the cheek and she forced herself to be still. 




Mick Britton: Third Lesson Continued



Finally he sighed and pushed his chair back. He picked up his plate and put it on the floor in front of her. He had meticulously saved one fourth of all the food on the plate, the steak was cut in precise bite sized pieces. His fork was on the plate. "Go ahead and finish that, clean up in here and then come downstairs."

He stood and picked up the bags by the top of the stairs and padded down the stairs. Missy bent over the plate on the floor and rapidly shoveled the food into her mouth. She did not care that it was mostly cold. She was starving. Jumping to her feet she poured herself a quick glass of orange juice and inhaled it, sighing as it flowed down her throat. She idly noticed he must have taken her watch downstairs with him. As she rinsed and loaded the dirty dishes into the old dishwasher she drank down the cold sweet coffee left in her cup. Suddenly everything tasted wonderful. She could not remember the last time she had so much enjoyed eating something, or even tasting something for that matter. 

Missy quickly padded down the stairs and found her teacher going through the bags under the light of the new lamp on the desk. Fully dressed now, he had pulled the CD player out and had some music playing, it was rock and roll but it seemed to have an orchestra in the background. She found she really kind of liked it. She was surprised. She had expected something more abrasive, like rap or some angry screaming rock group. He did not have it turned up particularly loud. Before she could kneel he handed her the hair dye, makeup, razors and shaving cream and told her to put them away in the bathroom.

"Go upstairs into that room next to yours, the pink teeny bopper one, and dump out all the shit in one of the dressers. I want to move it down here to keep stuff in." I will come up and help you carry it down the stairs. Do not try to carry it by yourself."

Missy found that there was not a hell of a lot in the dresser, mostly out of date tee shirts from old concerts her sister had gone to, and an odd collection of other memorabilia from a teenager's life. Small stuffed animals, weird jewelry, toys, cards and a whole stack of carefully saved love notes from a long forgotten boyfriend, were added to the old clothes. She was sitting on the bed waiting for him when he stepped through the doorway.

He stood there for a minute, "Whose room was this anyway?"

"My older sisters, they were twins. They moved out almost twenty years ago." 

"And you just left it like this?"

"I didn't live here very long after that. I moved out too. I just ended up coming back that's all and by then I didn't care about it." He frowned at her and she gulped and added "Mick Sir."

Mick grabbed one side of the dresser and looked at her expectantly. "You carry the upstairs side. That way I will have the most weight." He carefully gave her clear instructions as they made their way into the basement, guiding her with his words as they negotiated the corners and stairs. He nodded in satisfaction when the dresser was sitting against the wall by the bed. "Good." He began to put the rest of the items into the drawers, adding the ropes and items from the duffle bag. He left the cat-of-nine-tails on top of the dresser and the dog collar with the small pad lock on the desk.

He pointed at the rumpled bed with his chin. "Always make the bed if you see it messed up like that." As she straightened the sheets and blankets, putting the pillows against the far wall to make a cushion to lean up against, he unrolled the thin exercise pad and put it on the floor in the middle of the room. "This is where you will kneel when we are talking. It is also where you will sleep at night when I am here and do not require your body."

He opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a couple of batteries. "Get that ass plug and that tube of lube, time for some more practice." Missy felt herself flinch and hesitate for the briefest heartbeat and then she quickly got the required items and handed them to Mick. As he was replacing the batteries, she leaned down over the desk and reaching back grabbed and spread her ass cheeks.

This time he did not spend time playing with her cunt, he just quickly squeezed some lube on her ass and began to push the tip of the plug against her, working it in and out slowly going deeper with each thrust. After he had it in a few inches he turned on the vibrations. The batteries were fresh and the intensity was much stronger. He pulled out the plug and added some more lube and returned to pushing it in and out of her fucking her with the whole length of it, making the wide flanged base pop into and out of her tight bottom over and over. Missy found herself whimpering as each plunge stretched her painfully and yet at the same time ignited a flaming lust deep in her body.

She found herself leaning back, meeting him, her whimpers filled with building excitement. She began to moan soft pleading words. "Oh god yes please oh god please."

Again she felt his lips close to her ear, "Please what missy?"

"Please fuck me. Please, please fuck me." Her voice throbbed with need.

"I will only fuck your ass missy."

"Yes, yes fuck my ass. Please, please fuck my ass."

She felt a rush of excitement as she heard him unzip his jeans. She shivered and almost came as he pulled out the plug and put some more lube on her clenching asshole. "Let go of your ass missy. Hold onto the desk."

She nodded feverishly as she gripped the side of the desk. The head of his cock felt immense as it slowly slid into her ass, popping past the tight opening and pushing deep. She groaned deep in her chest, "Oh fuck yes." The sensation of him plunging deeper and deeper into her was nothing like the plug. There was an intense stretching and scraping sensation. It hurt and yet that seemed to multiply all her senses; she pushed back against him wanting more. "Fuck me! Please, please, please fuck my ass! Do it hard! Do it faster! I want it deep in me!"

Mick laughed out loud and called to her. "Now that's a zeal for learning." He began to thrust long slow deep thrusts, ignoring her pleas for him to go faster. "Slow down missy, let's enjoy this. After all, this is the first time I have had the pleasure of fucking your tight little asshole. I want to savor the moment." His hand held her hips and he made soft happy grunting sounds as he slid in and out of her. "Yes missy this is definitely not a moment to rush through."

Missy was beyond words, she was moaning with each plunge to her depths, her knuckles were white with tension as she hung onto the desk and lunged back at him each time he slid into her. Her whole body was tensing and she could feel the warm tingling sensations starting to run up her legs, each time Mick's cock filled her she felt herself building higher, her moans becoming louder and more urgent. 

Suddenly she froze, her back arched, her whole body clenching around this wonderful invader in her ass and then she was gone, and her legs sagged and went limp. Only Mick's hands on her hips and the desk under her chest held her up. Long quavering groans rang from her lips and wave after wave of heat and pleasure seemed to fill her up from the inside. When Mick tensed and shuddered pumping his come deep in her, it only served to push her higher.

Her legs were wobbly as Mick pulled her into the shower with him to wash off. She leaned drunkenly against the side of the shower and giggled a soft satisfied laugh. He looked at her. "What is so funny, missy?"

"I am surprised at how much I liked that, Mick Sir."

"You certainly have a delightful lust for learning."

She grinned impishly, "Can we do it again, Sir?"

Mick looked at her in surprise. "Now?"

Missy nodded earnestly, "Please."

Mick shook his head in wonder. "Let's review a few of yesterday's lessons before we go over this one again." He pulled her into his arms and murmured. "I promise it will be soon though."


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu



Mick Britton: Third Lesson Part 03



Miss Smith continues her home studies. Missy is hard to hold onto in the face of Sarah's self doubts. 

Enjoy

xantu


Mick's words to her as they finished their shower sent a wave of happiness and gratitude swept over her and missy could not resist throwing her arms around him and pressing her lips to his chest.

Missy pressed her body close to his, electrified by the sensation of having his naked skin press the length of her body. She found herself undulating against him provocatively, a soft hum of joy at the sweetness of the feeling vibrating in her chest.

Mick gripped her arms and pushed her away. His eyes were irritated. "Missy, enough of this, it is not a student's place to make demands upon her teacher. It is also improper for a student to be so familiar with her teacher. I have already been far too indulgent of you." 

Missy's face fell and she shrank up into herself. "I am sorry Mick Sir. I just was feeling so happy, so... so thankful." Her voice quivered. 

He sighed and then spoke. "If a student wishes to express her gratitude to her teacher, she may kneel and ask her teacher for permission to speak. If her teacher permits her to speak, she may then express her feelings." 

Missy sank to her knees and nodded sadly, "Yes Mick Sir."

Mick put his finger under her chin and raised her face up to look at his, "Don't be so sad missy; you will have lots of opportunities to show me your gratitude."

He reached up and turned off the shower. "Stand up and lean back against the wall, spread your legs out." After she was in position he took a small pair of scissors and began systematically trim off all her pubic hair close to the skin. After there was only short stubble covering her mound and lips he took the shaving cream and layered it over her whole groin. It was cool and burned a little on her sensitive inner folds. 

Mick handed her a razor and said, "Go for it. I want you bald as baby." He knelt down and watched as she carefully slid the blade over the skin, revealing smooth skin behind. He turned on the shower again and had her rinse the razor frequently. When she was done he took the razor, lifted her leg and carefully shaved a few places she had missed. Each touch on her freshly smooth and sensitive skin made her jump and shiver. 

Mick nodded in satisfaction and turned the spray from the shower onto her rinsing the last traces of the shaving cream from her. Missy jumped and whimpered in surprise at the new feeling of the warm water running over her now naked labia. Mick raised a brow. "Feels different?" 

"Yes Mick Sir, it feels really different."

"I like the way it looks." He pulled her from the shower and stood her in front of the full length mirror. Missy looked curiously at her now smooth labia. Her thicker outer lips were much darker colored than she had expected, almost the same brownish pink as her nipples. Her inner labia peeked out between them, petals of deep soft rose.

"Don't you think it's pretty?" Mick knelt down and spread her wide with his thumbs. Missy looked down at the rich rose and pink folds exposed between the pale plum colored oval of her outer labia. 

She flinched and gasped as he playfully leaned in and licked the length of her cleft. Instinctively her hands went to his head and he raised his face and slapped her hands away. Standing up he admonished her, "Missy a student never puts her hands on her teacher's person unless directed to. It will help you to remember this if you develop a habit of keep your hands clasped behind your back when you do not need them for an assigned task."

Missy felt a wave of shame and frustration. She wanted nothing more than to touch him, to caress him, to press her lips to him and he was forbidding her this. She felt the urge to protest, to stomp her foot and have a raging tantrum at this injustice. She could feel her face flush and she pressed her lips together and stared miserably at the floor as she put her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together. She recited in her mind, 'shut up and listen, obey, respect, and attitude... and don't fucking touch him'.

A single tear spilled down her face. At the sight a corner of Mick's mouth turned down. "Suck it up missy. You are acting like a baby."

Her eyes widened and an irrational wave of rage flowed over her. It felt like scalding water spilled over her head and flowed down her neck and shoulders. The words and even the tone of her voice were all little girl, "I am not! That's not fair!" Just as quickly it was gone, erased by a second wave of ice cold terror. Turning in panic she fled into the bedroom and quickly knelt on the pad, clasped her hands behind her back and stared at the floor trembling in fear.

Mick was silent as he walked back into the bedroom and pulled on his clothes. He did not speak until he was fully dressed. "Missy you have not been behaving with the respect I require."

She nodded miserably and whispered, "Mick Sir, may I have permission to speak?"

Missy could feel his eyes on her and after what seemed an eternity of waiting he spoke. "OK missy what do you want to say."

She struggled to control the shaking in her voice. "Mick Sir, you said this student could express gratitude with permission. Would it be permitted for this student to express regret?"

His voice was neutral, "It would be permitted."

"Mick Sir, I am sorry I said that you weren't being fair. I was acting immature. I had no right to act that way." She paused and then whispered in a tremulous voice. "Mick Sir please, if it would be permitted for a student to suggest this, I miss... I miss..." her voice faltered and her eyes went to the cat lying on top of the dresser, "that."

"You are asking for a review of submitting to pain?"

A tremor shook through her frame. Her voice was nearly inaudible, "Yes Mick Sir."

Mick did not respond with words, he just went to the dresser and pulled out some lengths of rope. "Come missy, come stand in the archway." Missy moved to stand where he pointed and he began to tie the ropes around her arms, passing the rope around and around her wrist until a wide cuff of spirals supported the joint below her hand. He slipped the end of the rope through an eye bolt and pulled her arm up till her hand was held high. He repeated this process with her other hand and both her ankles, until she was stretched wide and vulnerable in the wide archway.

Her feet were flat on the floor but once again the insides of her legs were spread uncomfortably wide. The muscles of her inner thighs were strained and trembling. His hand was warm as it caressed the taut flesh. "You will soon become more flexible missy, more pliant." A dry voice from deep in her psyche wondered if Mick understood the deeper meaning of his words or if he was repeating something he had heard. 

He had to slip though the gap by her side to move through the archway to stand in front of her, his face close to hers. "Missy I am not sure how sound proof this basement it is. It is midday and I am sure you nosy neighbors are out working on their lawns and flower beds. You will need to be quiet."

"Yes Mick Sir. Would it be permitted to ask for the gag, please?"

"Perhaps later, missy that is enough talking for now. It is time to remember lesson one."

She almost acknowledged the command with spoken words but caught herself and nodded. He smiled and spoke. "Missy you spoke of regret and begged my forgiveness. It is not my forgiveness you need. You need to be able to forgive yourself. Maybe that is why you crave this." He caressed her face with the tails of the cat. "You wish to be punished, to be put through the fire and cleansed."

Missy thought, 'yes cleansed'. She leaned her face toward the tongues of the whip and kissed them reverently, seeing it as the key to her finding inner peace. 

Mick's hand stilled and he murmured praise. "Such a good student. You know that this is the answer. You already sense how this will ease the pain in your heart and open your mind. It will calm your spirit."

Mick slipped back behind her again and lifted her hair and laid it over her shoulder. He stroked his hand down her back and across the swell of her ass. "Your back is flawless. It is most beautiful. I am almost reluctant to mark it, to make it mine." She felt his mouth trace down her spine, leaving a dozen warm soft kisses from her neck to the small of her back, each touch of his lips sending electric shocks through her.

She sensed his body tense and the movement and the sound of the tails of the whip swishing through the air. When it struck it made a soft slap against her skin. Her skin spoke of the impact, the pressure before she sensed the pain. It was sharp and hot at the same time, a lingering sting seemed to grow and then fade. Missy could tell that he was using the cat carefully, almost lightly. 

Impatiently she made a soft whimper and arched her back, pulling at the ropes trying to reach out, pleading for the pain she craved.

The blows continued at a slow predictable rhythm, starting at her shoulder blades and working their way down her back and across the twitching muscles of her ass. The tongues licked around her thighs and even kissed her calves. Each blow carefully gauged to sting lightly and sensitize her skin. 

She had continued to surge toward the sensation and her hair had fallen down her back again. Mick made an impatient sound and slipped past her body and went into the bathroom. He came back with a small handful of the rubber bands and roughly pulled her hair into a messy pony tail high on her head. 

This time the swish the whip was faster and louder and sound of it hitting her back was a snap. The pain pierced into her, making her skin shudder. A tiny cry of pain and excitement was wrung from her lips and then she clenched her lips together. 

Again the blows followed the same path down her body. The sting did not fade; her skin burned after each lash. She kept her lips shut, stifling her whimpers and moans, catching them in her mouth and letting them leak out her nose as she breathed deep puffing breaths through her flared nostrils. When he had scored the length of her body he paused and she finally let her body sag, her head sagging dragging deep breaths in through her open lips.

His voice pierced her heart. "Tell me how you are feeling missy." 

Her voice was hoarse and vibrated with emotion. "Please, please Sir, I feel like I need more."

She could sense his body wind up and the whip whistled as it cut through the air. It cracked against her skin and a pain scorched through her mind and convulsed her body. She felt a shriek rise up and she tried to contain it but it burst out of her mouth, soft strangled scream punctuated by dam of her lips. The blows came slower, a pause between each to allow her body to stop its struggle against the ropes, letting her cries weaken and fade. Then another blow searing into her back and lighting up her brain and feeding the flames in her loins.

Her whole body felt like it was on fire. Tears were running down her face and she was struggling to control her sobs. And yet the flaming sensation in her skin seemed to feed the growing excitement in her soul, each flash of agony that made her jerk at the ropes and scream between her clenched teeth made her cunt clench and she could feel her moisture leaking out. When she looked down she could see a small splatter of fluids on the floor between her bound legs.

When the carefully paced blows reached her thighs and the tips of the cat snapped around her leg and cut into her inner thigh she had no will left to stop the raw scream tearing up from her core. She struggled against the ropes in a mindless panic. Again he waited her to calm before he struck again. Missy struggled to turn her head, to see his face. Her voice was raw, "Please, please... the gag please."

"Missy we are almost done. You can do this, only five more. Count with me."

Missy felt a wave of relief and curiously, disappointment. She felt an irrational impulse to beg for more than five. It was like she was so close to something and all she needed was pain to get there, more pain. It was like she wanted to be torn apart, shredded to pieces. She nodded obediently and counted with him, grating out each number and lunging violently against the ropes holding her fighting the pain and the screams she held captive inside her.

After five she hung, limp from her arms for a few minutes, sobbing brokenly. Now that it had ended, she felt bereft, abandoned. There was none of the euphoria she had felt after the other lessons of pain; all she felt was an all encompassing emptiness.

Mick slipped past her and stood before her once more. She labored to her feet and looked up at his enigmatic expression, her eyes wounds in her face. "Tell me how you are feeling missy."

"Oh Sir, I feel so sad and I don't know why. Always before I felt happy afterward, so calm and sure and happy. Now all I feel is sad."

"You have not forgiven yourself."

A convulsion of resistance shook her. She shook her head violently. Her eyes flashed to his face and she whispered, "Who are you really? How can you know so much about what is inside my head?"

Mick smiled and shook his head. "I don't have a clue what is in there missy, all I can do is see the sadness in your eyes. I certainly have a better idea after seeing this crypt you live in."

Her voice was faint and far away. "Yes a crypt that's what it is." Then she shook her head again like she was trying to chase away unwanted thoughts and looked at him desperately, "Hit me some more, please Mick Sir I beg you, hit me some more."

He looked deep into her eyes and shook his head. "No missy, you have had enough."

She surged against the ropes and wailed, "Don't leave me like this!"

Mick covered her mouth with his hand. "Missy, remember your lessons." 

She pressed her lips to his hand and fought down the panic. Her eyes locked on his. Only when she was still and nodded calmly against his hand did he release her. Her face was still steeped in grief and fear, but she was back in control.

"I will not leave you missy." 

Tangling his hands in her hair and pressed his lips to hers. Kissing her until all the sadness in her eyes was replaced with the fog of lust. He slid down and gripped her hips, pressing his lips to her swollen and dripping flesh. As his tongue found her center he slid his fingers deep into her depths. Missy groaned and pushed her hips forward, impatient for the sensation, craving the bliss that she knew lay before her. 

Her body undulated with the waves of pleasure expanding from her center, her moans soft and continual. "Yes, oh yes... don't stop." Then she fell silent and her whole body tensed and riding the sudden peak of sensation that pushed her over the edge. Again she hung from her wrists as her legs went limp under her, her hips jerking with each spasm of pleasure bursting through her.

Mick stood and put an arm around her waist and supported her until she could support her weight again. He untied her arms and legs and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed. Missy wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face against his chest. She knew better to keep her embrace once he laid her down, but it was hard to let go. Her hands slipped reluctantly from his neck as he laid her down and urged her damp and trembling body under the blankets.

"Missy, go to sleep for a while. I will wake you up in a little while."

She lay there, curled up under the covers, but sleep eluded her. She knew he was right. There was a deep sadness inside her. It had always been there. She had learned to avoid looking at it, to ignore its existence, and to just focus on the simple tasks of day to day survival. She had grown so adept at this denial she could go days, even weeks without remembering, telling herself she was just fine, that this was normal, that this was all she had a right to expect. 

It shocked her to learn that it showed to the people around her, like a dirty secret you think you have well hidden that is common knowledge to anyone that cares to look at you. She suddenly felt naked and vulnerable. Her pain had shown all the time. Her careful life of denial and concealment had hidden nothing. Her sadness had been there on her face, in her eyes for everyone to see. 

A thought rose to the surface of her misery. Missy was not sad. That was why she so insanely craved this boy. He made Sarah go away. He let missy out. And that was why she wanted him to hit her some more. If he could just hurt her enough, Sarah would never ever come back.

She hated Sarah, weak, timid, lonely Sarah. Nobody had time for Sarah. From her earliest memories everyone was busy. Her father was busy dying. Everyone was busy with their own pain and grief. Even her brother and sisters had been busy figuring how to escape that place. Her mother was wrapped up in her neat little perfect life of perfect hair, perfect clothing, perfect manners, perfectly arranged knickknacks, in her perfect house. 

Sarah had been a ghost that wandered through that place, a glaring bundle of imperfections. Nothing she could do was just right; from her too brown, too straight hair to her imperfect posture, to her ridiculous tendency to move too quickly or to laugh or cry at the wrong things.

All her life, she accepted and owned that sense of never quite being perfect enough. She thought she had escaped it when she had left home. And she may have been successful if her fiancé had not been killed, if she had managed to stay away. But it seemed like this place had pulled her back. Mick had been right it was a crypt and it had trapped her within its walls. The only thing that had been left for her to do here now was to die.

Her only refuge had been to retreat into work, to become Miss Smith. Miss Smith was safe, sober, hard working. She was the first teacher in the building in the morning and the last one to leave, hours after the all the other teachers were gone. Miss Smith took her job way too seriously to socialize with the other teachers in the lounge or to go out for a drink after the students have gone home. It was one more way to control the sadness, to keep Sarah at bay. 

But Mick had seen that sadness, but not just the sadness. He had seen something else, seen missy. He had woken that part of her with one touch. It had been a drug that eclipsed all others, never had she felt so free, so happy. Never had Sarah been so far, far away. She was instantly addicted. 

She wondered where Mick was, what he was doing. He had laid her down, pulled the covers over her scored and welted skin, and told her to sleep. But sleep eluded her.

She lay curled up on her side. The skin of her back and buttocks stung and itched. Cautiously she ran her hand across her hip and the back of her thigh, flinching as she felt the tender almost raw skin. She wondered if it was possible to beat the sadness out of her or if that had been an illusion of her excited mind. She knew that while the pain flowed over and through her, all thought was gone, and the only emotions she seemed to feel were clean and sharp; fear, joy and lust... wild all encompassing raw primitive lust. The thought of it made her body clench and shudder with the power of the memory of it.

The sensations of the ropes on her, stretching and exposing her, his hands warm and irresistible, his penis penetrating her, even his mouth as it forced her responses all these things were nothing compared to the pain.

Mick's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Wake up missy. Get your ass into the kitchen and get started on dinner."

Missy had not ever made meat loaf. She had looked in one of her mother's old recipe books to find out what ingredients to buy. She was peering at the directions and carefully measuring the spices when Mick walked into the kitchen. She paused, a little unsure how she was supposed to act. Self conscious of her nudity and wondering if there was something she was supposed to say or do when he walked into a room where she was working. Her eyes darted toward him. A nervous shiver shook her.




Mick Britton: Third Lesson Part 03



Mick sat down at the table and watched her for a minute. When he did not say anything she took a deep breath and went on with her measuring and mixing. When he finally spoke, a cold shiver went down her spine. "If a student is busy with an assigned task and her teacher enters the room, that student should stop her work and face her teacher and respectfully greet her teacher and then ask how she may serve her teacher."

Missy froze and turned. "I am sorry Mick Sir." She swallowed and gave a little curtsy, "Hello Mick Sir. How may I serve you?"

He smiled. "Pretty good, if possible it would be better if you knelt to speak, and don't say hello, say 'This student greets her teacher and asks how she may serve him.' Try again."

She fell to her knees and spoke, her voice vibrating with nervous tension. "This student greets her teacher and asks how she may serve him."

Mick nodded. "Get me a beer."

Missy started to get up and he barked, "I did not say stand up."

Her shoulders came up around her ears and she flinched back. Turning she crawled to the refrigerator and got a beer out and crawled back to his feet. He reached down and took the beer from her outstretched hand and stroked her hair. "Don't be so nervous missy. You are still just a baby. You have so much to learn." He looked at the beer and laughed. "Get me a bottle opener and then go back to making dinner. You may stand to cook. Remember though, that any task that can be performed on your knees should be done so. It will help you remember your role."

Missy nodded quickly and murmured, "Yes sir, Mick Sir." She quickly found a bottle opener and knelt at his feet holding it out.

He took the bottle opener from her and commented. "Next time I tell you to get me a beer, it better be opened before you hand it to me."

The dinner was a bit of a disaster. The meat loaf did not hold together when she sliced it and seemed dry and gray. The mashed potatoes turned out fine but the gravy was thick and had lumps in it. She had to get frozen corn on the cob because there was no fresh corn at the store. She bought a chocolate cake in the bakery department. He did not make any comments about the food but left most of the meat loaf on the plate. Missy knelt at his feet when she was not serving him. 

As she cut the cake and put a slice down in front of him he looked up at her and said, "Today is my birthday, I turned twenty today." His voice seemed sad and vulnerable.

Missy froze and knelt at his feet and spoke in a soft strangled voice, "May this student please speak?"

Mick shrugged and nodded, "Sure."

"This student would express her gratitude that her teacher would choose to spend this day with her. This student would thank her teacher for all that he has chosen to teach her. This student wants her teacher to know that she... she... wants to be a good student and that she wants to be pleasing to her teacher."

Mick touched her head and then pulled her head up against his thigh, "You are pleasing to me missy. You are learning fast."

Missy could not resist pressing her lips to his leg and whispering, "Happy birthday."


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu



Mick Britton: Third Lesson Part 04



Miss Smith continues her home studies. Mick pushes her a little hard and brings up some bad childhood memories.

Enjoy

xantu


When he had finished eating the slice of cake in front of him, Mick stood and looked down at missy kneeling on the floor at his feet. "Get yourself something to eat and then clean up in here. When you are finished come downstairs."

Missy carefully dished herself up a plate of the gray meatloaf, potatoes and gravy and a piece of corn. Remembering his words that any task that could be accomplished on her knees should be done so, she put the plate on the floor and efficiently shoveled the food into her mouth. Again the food was not warm and while she felt empty, she had little appetite. She ate out of obedience and a pragmatic understanding that she did not know when she would be permitted to eat again.

Mick was seated at the desk writing on the pad of paper she had gotten for him that morning. It seemed like it had been days ago instead of hours. Missy knelt at his feet like he had instructed her to, waiting his next instruction. Mick sighed and put down the pencil. "Missy go in the bathroom and put your hair back up in a pony tail on top of your head like I had it before and then come back."

"Mick Sir, would it be permitted for this student to speak?"

He frowned and shrugged, "What?"

"Mick Sir, um..." Miss stopped her face a flushing red with embarrassment. "...um... I need to go to bathroom."

He paused and looked at her, his lips quivered with a flash of humor. "If a student has to use the restroom, that student should raise her hand and wait to be called on by her teacher and then ask to use the restroom."

Missy nodded and raised her hand. 

Mick looked serious and then asked, "missy do you need to use the restroom?"

"Yes Mick Sir."

"Number one or number two?"

Missy froze, her eyes widening in shock. "Um... um... number two." Her voice was small and humiliated.

Mick raised a brow, "OK you have permission to use the bathroom but do not flush the toilet when you are finished."

A tiny whimper of distress shook her. Her voice was strangled. "Yes Mick Sir."

Missy did not have any problem moving her bowels. She had felt cramps and gassy all evening and wondered if it had anything to do with having him fuck her ass earlier. She wiped herself meticulously and then got a wash cloth and washed her whole crotch and bottom almost obsessively. She looked miserably at the feces and toilet paper floating in the toilet and closed the lid. Carefully combing her hair and putting it into a pony tail she turned to leave. Pausing at the door she scanned the bathroom, avoiding looking at the toilet and turned off the light.

Returning to kneel at Mick's feet she stared at the floor, her shoulders up around her ears, her face miserable. Mick sat in the desk chair looking at her. His eyes were amused and he had a curious tiny smile on his lips. "Perk up missy, at least I did not make you bring it back to show me or tell you to shit here on the floor while I watched. Just think it could have been so much worse."

She looked up in shock, her mouth opening to protest and then snapping shut and her eyes turning down to the floor. Her eyes filled with tears. A silent sob shook her.

His voice turned sharp and angry. "You are beginning to master rule one but I think that you do not understand what obeying truly is. You will learn to obey without thought missy. My words will become your will. There will be no hesitation, no embarrassment, and not a single fucking question. Do you understand?"

Her voice was filled with sadness, "Yes Mick Sir."

"What are the rules?"

Her voice was flat and exhausted, "Listen, obey, respect, and have a good attitude."

"And what rule are you ignoring?"

She looked up at him in alarm and through trembling lips whispered, "Attitude Sir." She wanted to protest that she was not ignoring, that she had forgotten, and that it was hard. She forced her eyes back to the floor, hiding her face from him afraid that her feelings would show.

Mick picked up the leather dog collar and buckled it around her neck. "Missy you will learn that rule number two is going to be very much easier if you have a good attitude, in fact each rule helps reinforce and support the others. Even rule number one should apply to the words you do not speak, to your thoughts. Try not to think so much, even now your thoughts betray you."

He made a mark on the collar and removed it and drilled a hole through both layers of the leather and slipped it around her neck once more. He worked the small padlock through the holes and snapped it shut. He attached the leash and pulled up on the collar forcing her chin up. When she started to rise up off her knees he spoke again, "No, stay on your knees, just stretch up taller and look up at me."

The smooth chrome chain of the leash pushed up under her chin, lifting her face up. Her eyes found his and she blinked under the intensity of his gaze. "Tell me about yourself missy. Tell me about what it is inside you that makes you hate yourself so much."

Missy jerked back fighting the leash, her eyes wide with horror. He refused to let her go and she fought him with all her strength. There was panic in her voice as she began to beg him, "No, let me go! Stop it! Please, oh please no!" She grabbed at the leash and tried to yank it from his hands. Finally she threw herself on the floor, ignoring the choking constriction of the collar pulling at her neck. Her words dissolved into sobs and pleading whimpers. When the leash loosened she huddled on the floor in a small ball sobbing convulsively. 

She flinched and jerked away from his hand when he touched her shoulder. Her voice was hoarse and pleading, "No, oh please, no."

"What are you afraid I am going to do missy?" His voice was soft and close.

Her voice came from the middle of her huddled ball. "It's too hard. I can't do it."

"What can't you do missy."

"Listen, obey, respect, attitude. It is too hard."

"Tell me why it is so hard missy." His voice was close and she peeked out and realized he was sitting on the floor close to her, his hand lightly on her shoulder.

As she began to speak, he began to stroke her back. Her voice quivered and shook; it was almost childlike, "I... I am bad. I am dirty." 

"Tell me about that."

Her voice was oddly harsh and acid, "Go to your room Sarah. Go to your room and take off your dirty panties." She looked up and him and suddenly gagged and lurched to her feet and rushed into the bathroom. She had her hand clutched over her mouth trying to keep the vomit from spewing from her mouth when she ripped up the lid of the toilet she reeled back at the sight of her shit floating in the toilet and collapsed onto the bathroom floor.

She woke to the sensation of warm water flowing over her. Mick had her sitting on the floor of the shower and was rinsing her clean. There was the strong smell of vomit in the warm steamy air of the stall. As Mick lathered her hair and rinsed it clean, the sour smell was replaced with the sweet scents of lavender and soap. Her voice was tiny. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what missy."

"I didn't follow the rules."

"That's true you didn't, but I think I may have been pushing a little hard without understanding why you are so sad."

"Sarah was bad. She would have accidents in her panties. Her mother hated that... She, she hated me."

"What would she do missy."

"She would punish Sarah. She would lock Sarah in the bathroom and make her scrub her panties until all the stains were gone. Sarah had to eat and sleep in the bathroom." Missy shot a look at Mick, her eyes frightened and sad. "Sarah had to show her mother the poop in the toilet before she could come out. If Sarah could not poop in the toilet she would give Sarah an enema."

"And I managed to step right in it didn't I missy? All this resistance to anything to do with your ass and here I thought you were just a little shy."

Again her voice was tiny. "I'm sorry."

He helped her to stand and began to rinse the soap off her. "Missy, it's OK. You aren't in trouble. We need to take a break. I need to think about this. I want you to come in and lie down. I am going out and I will be back late. I want you to stay here." He pulled her from the shower and carefully dried her off. Come to the bed missy."

She found herself being tucked under the covers and watched him with wide eyes as he pulled out one of the dog chains and padlocked it to her collar. Somehow the fact he was locking her made her realize he would have to come back. The growing fear he was leaving and not coming back was allayed. "You are coming back." Her words were filled with relief.

"I said I would be back late." He padlocked the other end of the chain to one of the eye bolts in the doorway and gave it a firm yank. "You should be able to reach the bathroom."

He came back and pulled the covers back and rolled her over onto her stomach and quickly and efficiently tied her hands behind her back. Missy was still so shaken that she spoke without thought. "Where are you going?"

He gave her a quick swat on the ass and spoke sharply, "Remember your rules missy. And don't bother to ask. It is none of your business where I am going." Missy kept her words to herself but a tiny whimper leaked from her lips. As he left the room he turned off the leaving the room in shadows.

It was not completely dark, the light was on in the bathroom and the door stood open. She lay on her side, her knees pulled up almost to her chest. Tears dripped slowly down her face and she would sniff and swallow down the snot and wipe her face on the pillow. It seemed to take a long time for the sadness to fade to a soft dull ache, for Sarah to fade away. It seemed like she was losing missy more and more, that Sarah kept pushing her way into her consciousness, sad Sarah, dirty Sarah, and lonely, frightened, needy, bad Sarah. 

Miss Smith had taken all the psychology classes in college. She knew that Sarah's incontinence as a child was probably a response to her father's death and her mother's obsessive controlling. She saw how each of her siblings had tried to cope in their own way with the loss. Her brother threw himself into sports and alcohol. The odd set of twins, one so skinny and the other so fat, each acting out their pain with their appetites. And Sarah, never confronting her mother but repeatedly soiling herself in a quiet scream for attention, any kind of attention, the shit that leaked from her a metaphor for the dark pain that filled her heart.

Her mother's disgust and strict hygienic attempts to cure this symptom of a larger problem was ultimately successful. Sarah learned to hide her sadness. At least she thought she had learned to hide it. 

Mick's words telling her that it showed in her eyes had dredged up all the old pain. And then his words telling her to not flush the toilet were an echo from her childhood. It seemed like a lifetime of her difficultly learned lessons of self control were being shredded away.

Again she had no way to measure the passage of time, and again sleep eluded her. She lay huddled on her side under the blanket. Each time she would move, the chain attached to her collar would rattle or clink. She wondered why he had chained her. She would not have left. It was not out of fear that she was going to run away. He had already sent her out of the house on an errand and did not show any anxiety about her return. She knew that the chain was to serve a purpose to communicate to her what she was, a mark of her status.

She did not know when she fell asleep, Mick's feet on the stairs woke her and she stretched and blinked when he turned on the light. He had a gym bag in one hand and a plastic bag in another. She slipped out from under the blankets and knelt on the thin pad. "This student greets her teacher and asks how she may serve him."

Mick looked up at her in surprise and smiled, "It is good to see you remembering your lessons missy." His eyes were tired and he yawned. Taking a key out of his pocket he unsnapped the padlock attaching the chain to her collar and then untied her arms. "Go upstairs and get a few more blankets and a couple more pillows, whatever you need to be warm enough on your pad on the floor. I am going to take the bed."

She hesitantly raised her hand and Mick blinked and asked, "Do you need to use the restroom missy?"

"Yes Mick Sir." She struggled to keep her voice clear, to cover her humiliation with at least a simulation of the attitude he wanted from her.

This time he only shrugged and said, "Sure go ahead, and for now missy unless I tell you different just go ahead and flush." A warm flood of relief and gratitude swept over her. She would have spoken of her gratitude if it was permitted. Instead she smiled and scurried off to complete her tasks.

Mick was nude and sitting on the edge of the bed looking at her with half closed sleepy eyes. Carefully placing the pillow and blankets to one side of the pad, she knelt near his feet and waited for his next instruction. She looked out of the corner of her eye at his penis, lying half erect against one of his thighs. She thought to herself how beautiful it was and found herself swallowing down the saliva that suddenly flooded her mouth.

Her eyes reached up to his face, wanting direction, the urge to touch him becoming almost unendurable. A shiver of nervous tension shook her. 

When his voice came it was felt like a warm buffet of wind shaking her. "Missy, come help your teacher sleep. Give me your mouth."

She eagerly bent to her task. Taking him into her mouth and gently bathing his growing hardness in her warm wet spit. She drew a deep breath in through her nose, drawing his scent in, trying to fill her soul with this smell that so intoxicated her. A soft groan of happiness welled up in her chest. As he grew harder and filled her mouth she gripped the base of his hard shaft and let her lips and tongue glide up and down, sucking gently. She did not hurry. She wanted this to last as long as possible, this one time when she could touch him, kiss him without censure.

Too soon he tangled his hands in her hair and urged her to speed up and grunted softly as he filled her mouth with his come, his cock flexing and twitching in her mouth with each spurt of the salty hot semen. Missy held it in her mouth, savoring it, reluctant to let it slip down her throat, saving it like it was precious to her, his gift to keep as long as possible.

She fell asleep curled up in her blankets on the floor; she did not swallow until after she fell asleep. She woke to the sensation of his touch on her face, a single finger gently stroking her cheek and then as her eyes opened, tracing the contours of her lips. Missy looked up at his face looking over the edge of the bed, staring down at her, her eyes sinking into his. She smiled softly and kissed at his finger as it caressed her lips. His eyes darkened and he slipped his fingers under her collar and pulled at her impatiently, lifting her to her knees. "Get a condom from the desk. I want you."

A rush of excitement, so strong that it made it hard to think, shook her. Her cunt clenched and convulsed so strongly she thought she might be coming just from his words. Her hand was trembling as she held out the wrapped condom resting on the palm. He grabbed her whole hand trapping the condom between their palms and pulled her into bed on top of him.

A tiny squeal of excitement escaped her lips as she fell over on top of him. He laughed out loud and wrapped his arms around her and twisted quickly, rolling over on top of her, pinning her to the bed. For what seemed like minutes he held her there looking down at her face, his hands holding her wrists, his legs twined around hers forcing them to spread wide. She could feel the hot tip of his cock barely touching her opening, a burning blind kiss against her aching need. A pleading whimper shook her as she struggled to press against him. "Please!" 

He smiled and murmured, "Slow down missy, always in such a hurry." 

She twisted in his arms, arching against him, craving any sensation she could find. He took her mouth in his, stifling her whimpers, pulling her tongue in his mouth and sucking on it. She was struggling against his hands, wanting to be free to touch him, to pull at him. 

"Missy I am going to let go of your hands but you must keep them up here above your head. Remember a student does not put her hands on her Teacher's body unless instructed to." When she nodded, he unlaced his fingers from hers. She kept them above her head, reaching up and gripping at the metal bars of the old wrought iron head board. His eyes followed her hands up and he nodded in approval. "That's a good student; that will help you remember." 

He slid down and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, pulling at it with his lips, stretching and tugging at her until the suction broke with an audible pop from his lips and then bent to her other breast. Missy surged under him and squealed with joy at the sensation shooting from her breasts and through her body. A soft trickle of moisture oozed from her opening and dripped down between her legs, tickling at her other smaller opening. Feverishly she gripped at the bar above her head, fighting the impulse to reach to him.

When he slipped lower and pressed his lips to her cleft she almost lost her hold, her whole body suddenly locked in that exquisite arch heralding the onset of her climax. Lifting his lips from her he denied her that last touch that would lift her over the edge and let her tumble down. She hung there, her whole cunt seemed to spasm over and over trying to reach that last bit of sensation it needed. He knelt upright between her legs and looked down at her as he slowly ripped open the condom package and rolled the greasy looking covering over his cock. Missy's nostrils twitched at the smell of the latex; she felt a flash of hate for that thing that would act as a barrier between them.

His eyes caught the look on her face and he grinned, "Yeah these things suck." He slowly slid into her, sinking into her depths. The feeling of her walls stretching and adjusting to his entry was magical; she arched and gasped out, "Oh so good inside, yes, yes..."

Mick looked down at her as he slowly pressed deep and hard, grinding his pelvis against her. She looked up, her eyes locked on his, her whole body once again tensing and tightening up in its primal curve. Her eyes widened and then her head snapped back and she let out a grating wail, her body undulating with waves of her ecstasy. Lifting her legs up with his arms, Mick began to thrust deep and hard, forcing grunting groans from her with each slap of his hips against her. He reached up and grabbed the head board and lunged against her hard, tensed and shuddered with his finish. 

Missy was limp and blinking with lazy satisfaction when he pulled free of her and carefully slipped off the condom. "Open your mouth missy." And as she obediently opened her lips, he tipped the condom up and squeezed its contents out into her mouth. It tasted strongly of the smell of the condom, bitter and artificial. She fought to keep from gagging and quickly swallowed it down to get the taste out of her mouth. A shudder of disgust shook her.

Her hands were still locked around the iron bars above her head. She ran her tongue across her teeth, swallowed again and licked her lips trying vainly to get the last bit of the latex aftertaste rinsed away. Mick chuckled, "Not as good as fresh from the tap missy?" She shuddered again and shook her head. "Come on down and clean me off." Her fingers were stiff and there were red marks on the inside of her hands from gripping the bar. 




Mick Britton: Third Lesson Part 04



His cock tasted like the condom too but any opportunity to touch him was to be savored and she eagerly licked and sucked on his only slightly softened flesh. She made a little happy hum of joy as she washed away the last traces of their union and she could feel him swelling and getting hard once more in her mouth.

Mick slipped from the bed and picked up a couple lengths of rope. Taking her wrists wrapped the rope around them, once again making the coiled cuff. Then he lifted her leg up and tied the rope around her thigh just above her knee, tying her wrist tightly to her thigh. He repeated the tie on the other side. Missy lay, looking up at him her knees lifted high and gaping wide; her whole cunt spread open to his eyes. She forced herself to lie still under his gaze, fighting the impulse to squirm and test her bonds.

"Let's get you rolled over." His hands were strong on her, lifting her up and putting her on her knees. Her face pressed down against the mattress, her arms stretched down to her knees forcing her ass up in the air. Mick pulled her knees wide apart and ran his hand across her ass. "Missy your bottom is beautiful. I love your ass. You must learn to take pride in it." His hand smacked firmly into her, the force made her lurch forward and the ropes jerked at her wrists and shoulders. The blow was forceful enough to make her skid forward a fraction of an inch on her knees. A surprised yelp broke from her lips. Again he swatted her, the sound of his hand striking her flesh a loud crack. This time she was ready and was silent, her only sound a soft grunt and then a short sharp hissing sound as she sucked the air in through her clenched teeth as the sting grew and turned to fire in her skin.

At first he seemed to carefully spread the spanks, careful to turn her whole ass the same shade of scarlet. But soon the blows were raining down on her almost too quickly for her to cope with; soft whining yelps were wrung from her lips. Her cries were broken and shaken with a subsequent blow before she could inhale for another. The force of the spanking pushed her head into the corner of the headboard and wall. Her face was wet with tears and the sheet under her face was saturated. A particularly sharp blow fell directly on the valley between her quivering cheeks, striking directly on her clenched brown star and the tender flesh that lay between it and her softer pinker opening. Missy squalled in pain, her scream muffled by the wet mattress under her face.

After that it seemed all the blows rained down on those most tender of places, striking at between her legs over and over, scorching her, setting her whole crotch aflame. Missy felt a softening and warmth growing deep within her and her cries began to take on urgency, begging for each blow, pleading for more. 

When she felt his fingers slippery with lubrication push deep into her ass, she lunged back against the sudden painful invasion eagerly, crying out with a voice sill fogged with tears, "Yes, yes, fuck my ass!"

She felt his hands on her hips yanking her back away from the corner she had been driven into and then he pushed deep into her in one strong thrust. The pain was stabbing and sharp, but it lit a fire in her head. Missy pushed back against him, "Do it, fuck me hard!" And she pressed her face hard against the mattress and screamed out her pain and excitement as he began to lunge against her hard and fast, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Missy screamed out the word with each brutal plunge into her depths. His fingers dug into her hips, each thrust knocked her forward, jerking her arms. The sound of their bodies slapping together was loud in her ears. She could hear Mick grunting and groaning as he pounded into her.

A deep heat was growing in her, filling her with mindless excitement. When she could hold no more she exploded under him, a hoarse scream of completion tore from her throat as she began to jerk and thrash against him, wanting nothing more than to somehow to pull him deeper into her dark passage. Mick slammed into her again and again, pushing her higher and higher and then finally tensed and lunged against her one last time, cried out her name, "Oh fuck missy," and shuddered with his finish.

Mick sagged against her and then pulled her over onto her side, lying down with her, spooning against her, keeping his cock buried deep inside her ass. His lips were against the back of her neck and his voice was soft and warm, "Wow girl, now that's what I would call a great fuck, awesome attitude."

Missy sighed and playfully squeezed his flagging erection still lodged inside her. Her passage felt raw and sore and somehow that seemed right, it matched the dull aching burn that made here whole bottom feel swollen and tender. The pain kept missy with her, kept Sarah at bay.

Mick spoke against the back of her neck, "Tell me about your lovers missy. How many men have you fucked before me?"

Missy sighed and closed her eyes. "There is not very much to tell. Twelve years ago I was engaged to a man. We lived together briefly before he was killed. Before that there was a guy in college at a party, he got me drunk or maybe gave me a drug. I don't remember it very clearly; all I remember is waking up in the morning on the floor of his apartment, naked, bloody between my legs and him telling me that I wanted it. I did not date after that until I met my fiancé. He was a cop and I guess I felt like I could trust him. I guess that make you the third man." Missy carefully answered his question, telling herself that she was not lying to him. He had never asked her about women, and it had only been that one time in college.

"You were engaged to a cop?"

"Yes for a while, before he got shot."

"Someone shot him?"

"Yes, a crazy man, one of those people who you see everyday walking down the street talking to themselves. The ones you avoid looking at. He should never have had a gun. He is in some hospital for crazy people now. It was all so senseless I could not even hate him. But after that it seemed like there was no reason to try and be happy ever again." She sighed again and then said. "Until now."

"Do I make you happy missy?"

"I feel happy now. I like being missy. I like the pain and I love pleasing you. Sometimes it is frightening or confusing but I am trying to learn."

"You are a good learner missy. I am glad you like the pain. I like giving it to you. And speaking of learning, we only have one more day left and that is almost half gone. We will both need to get a good night's sleep before going back to school tomorrow. So let's get a shower and figure out a useful way to use these last few hours left to us." As he pulled from her and began to untie the ropes binding her he cautioned her, "Remember your rules missy. I have been asking you questions and so I have tolerated you not using my name respectfully but that time is over. Remember your lessons." 


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu



Mick Britton: Third Lesson Part 05



Miss Smith continues her home studies. Missy gets some help keeping her mouth shut. 

Enjoy

xantu


In the shower Mick showed missy how he wanted her to bathe him. "Eyes down, start with the top and work your way down. When you wash my hair, take your time, massage my scalp. Use your finger tips." As she slowly worked her way over his scalp he sighed and closed his eyes. "Good, that's good. Now as you wash the rest of me, use firm hands, and rub them over my body slowly." 

Missy was trembling in excitement. To be able to touch him, to sensually run his hands over his skin, to feel his muscles hard and lean, was thrilling and maddening. His cock was erect and rigid against his belly and she rubbed the soap over his hardness. 

She seemed to get stuck there, running her hand up and down his slippery shaft, her eyes carefully cast down, mesmerized by the sight of her hand slowly sliding the length of him. Mick put his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers tighter and urging her faster. His voice was hoarse, "Do you like what you see? Do you like jacking me off, missy?" He put his hand on her head and pulled her face closer. He quivered and the ropes of come shot out and struck her in the face, mixing with the water and sweat, and dripped down over her lips. Almost automatically she licked her lips.

Mick laughed and put a finger under her chin, lifting her face to look at him. "I asked you a question, missy. A student must never ignore her teacher's questions. It would be disrespectful and disobedient."

Missy blinked and seemed to wake up from the trance she was in. "Oh, I... um... yes Mick Sir. I liked it."

"What did you like?"

"Masturbating you, touching you, feeling your come on my face, I liked it all."

Mick smiled, "That's the attitude missy. Now wash the rest of me and let's get something done with the little time we have left."

She kept her eyes down and focused on following his instructions, kneeling and washing his legs and listening to his words, a quiet smile on her face. 

Mick was dressed in his jeans and a clean t-shirt, tying his shoes, as he looked at missy kneeling on her pad. Without prompting she had quickly made the bed and folded her blankets and slipped them in the space underneath the bed. "You will need to wash the sheets sometime this week. I will be back on Friday." 

Missy's eyes jerked up from the floor and found his face. She looked a little panic stricken, "What will I do?"

Mick tipped his head, and raised an admonishing finger, "Missy, I once again must remind you to remember the rules. You have been remiss. I have had to remind you far too many times. I want you to go upstairs into your kitchen and bring me back your three heaviest wooden spoons or spatulas."

Missy dug through the drawers in the kitchen. Typical of a house that had been lived in for decades there were dozens of utensils to choose from. She laid out the wooden spoons and spatulas in a careful parallel row on the kitchen counter as she found them. There was one hand carved oversized wooden spoon that was about five inches across and had a heavy stick like handle almost eighteen inches long. The second largest was a thick spatula that had several dozen holes in it, its handle was long and flat like a ruler only slightly thicker. Third was a long handled stirring spoon with about the size of the palm of her hand. She put the rest of the utensils back into a drawer and trotted back downstairs. 

Wordlessly she knelt at her place and held out the wooden tools out to him. Mick's eyebrow went up at the sight of the largest wooden spoon. He hefted it in his hand and commented, "This thing is a monster missy." He laid it down on top of the dresser. "I think we will save this one for more serious transgressions." He lifted the second one and nodded. "Yes this one is perfect." Hold out your hands missy palms up."

Missy's hands were visibly shaking when she held them out.

"Missy a student who is about to be punished must speak to her teacher about her transgression, apologize for her lapse, state that she is presenting herself for correction and then beg his forgiveness."

Missy gulped and nodded. "Yes Mick Sir. I forgot the rules. I forgot to shut up and listen. I forgot to speak respectfully. I am sorry I forgot." Her lips quivered and she looked pleadingly at him. "I... um... present myself for correction and I... please, please forgive me." Her last words throbbed with emotion. 

Mick turned the spatula around and held it by the wider spatula end and slapped that handle against his palm. He nodded and then snapped it down across her right palm. Missy yelped and reflexively jerked her hand back, tears starting from her eyes. 

Mick's voice was sharp, "Missy you will hold out your hand and leave it there. I recommend not clenching your fist; it will be much, much worse on your knuckles." 

She held her hands back up.

"Good missy. We will only do ten on each palm and then move on to practicing being respectful. Count with me." Mick did not alternate between her hands. He struck the same palm over and over, and then moved to the other. The pain scorched through her, getting worse with each sharp slap to her hand. Missy yelped and counted each pop of the spatula handle. When he was finished, her whole arms where shuddering in pain and it felt like she held a handful of coals in each red palm. The pain in her hands seemed to increase after he was done, aching and then itching fiercely. Missy blinked as she cautiously flexed her fingers.

"Missy after a punishment a student should thank her teacher."

Her voice was thick with suppressed tears. "Thank you, Mick Sir, for giving this student her punishment. This student will try extra hard to remember her rules and lessons."

We are far from finished. Stand up and turn around." 

Missy's eyes were huge and frightened, but she jumped up and turned her back to him without hesitation. Mick stepped close and when she felt the tip of his finger slowly trace the length of her spine, a ripple to goose flesh spread across her skin. His voice was close to her ear, "You still have my marks on your back. I am so fucking turned on by your back. Missy lean over and grab your ankles." As she bent over the finger trailed across her ass. "And your ass is piece of art. It is a mosaic of handprints. Spread your feet out a little more." As she widened her stance he ran his finger down the crack of her ass and then slowly slid it between her legs. 

"Tell me the four rules missy." His finger slid into her and began to pump in and out.

Her voice quivered and lurched. "Shut up and listen, obey, be respectful, and have a good attitude."

"And tell me who I am and what you are." Mick slipped a second finger into her, continuing to thrust them regularly into her.

"You are Mick Sir, my teacher and owner, and I am missy, your student." A tiny whine of excitement shook through her as his fingers relentlessly fucked her. 

"Missy, this is not for your pleasure. This is to consequence you for your lapse in memory. Missy you are not going to be allowed to orgasm until I am convinced you understand how important it is to speak to me respectfully. Do you understand?"

Her voice was shaking, "Yes Mick Sir."

"Missy there will come a time when you will be expected to control your orgasm. You will not be allowed to come without permission. If you study especially hard, you will even learn to come when I tell you to. But for now, I want you to resist it as best you can and then ask to come. Ask me respectfully to come. At first I will tell you no. Remember that you are not allowed to come without my permission. Eventually you will be given that permission if you cooperate and answer my questions honestly." Missy's legs were shaking and her hips flexing with each plunge into her, making wet squishing sounds.

"Remember missy I require your complete cooperation. I require you always speak the truth. Tell me missy about your masturbation. How often do you play with yourself?"

A flinch of shock shook her, but she answered quickly. Her words lurched and blurted from her lips. It seemed each thrust of his fingers inside her seemed to push the words from her. "Mick Sir, before you came to my classroom, not very often. Once or twice a week. After, that night, after... I did it a lot of times. I don't know how many. And the next day too."

"A lot of times? More than ten?" His words seemed to be caught up with the metronome of his fingers as well. 

"Yes Mick Sir, I think more than ten."

"And the next day?"

"Yes, Mick Sir. In the morning before I went to the school, three times. In the car on the way to school, one time. And at school between classes, in the bathroom, um... maybe four times?"

"I must say Missy, I seem to have lit a fire in that cunt of yours. Tell me missy, what you do when you masturbate."

"Mick Sir, I push my hands inside my panties and rub my clitoris with my fingers." Missy was tensing and she blurted, "Please Mick Sir, please let me come."

"That was a good attempt at speaking respectfully missy, and you have been doing a good answering my questions. But no not yet missy. We still have far to go. Missy do you have any toys? Vibrators, dildos?"

"No Mick Sir. I don't." Her voice was tense and strangled. Mick noticed instead of leaning toward his touch, she seemed to be trying to tilt away from him, to keep some amount of control. He gripped her hip with his other hand and increased the depth and tempo of his thrusting fingers, grinning as he noted her fluids running down his fingers and dripping to the floor.

"Have you ever put anything other than a cock into your cunt?"

For the first time she did not answer promptly, a brief hesitation making a moment of silence. The wet sounds coming from between her legs seemed suddenly louder. Mick lifted his hand from her hip and struck her ass sharply, knocking her off balance, driving her to her knees as her hands flew forward to catch herself. "Missy, you were thinking of lying to me!" He followed her down, his fingers hardly losing a beat. His voice was harsh and loud. "Tell me now what it was you did not want to say."

On her hands and knees, her head hanging down, Missy gasped and blurted out, "Tongue... fingers."

Mick leaned over her, "Why was that hard to say?"

Again she hesitated, and this time for the briefest of seconds began to pull away from him. A sob broke from her and then she tried to push his hand away. "Please, please Mick Sir may I please come. I can't think."

Mick slapped her hand. "Missy, answer my question! Why was that hard to say?" 

She froze and said in a soft voice. "Because it was a girl." And then she flinched and added, "Mick Sir."

Mick's hand stilled, coming to a rest still lodged deep within her. "Say it again."

Missy's voice was soft and miserable. "I am sorry Mick Sir, because it was a girl that did it."

Mick began to softly slowly move his fingers again. "Missy why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"Mick Sir, it was only one time and you did not ask me that. You said tell you about the men I have fucked, not women, and I was ashamed." 

"Do you think you were being really honest with me?" His fingers resumed their demanding intrusive tempo.

Her voice strangled and broke. "No Mick Sir, I was keeping a secret from you." She gasped out, "Oh god, Mick Sir, I can't stop it any more. Please, oh god please, may I come?"

Mick abruptly stilled the movements of his hand, and then pulled his hand away completely. "No missy you may not come yet. Get up off the floor and lay down on the bed. On your back, I want to see your face." Once she had lay in the position he required he spread her legs wide, lifted the one closest to the edge of the bed and sat down between them, putting the lifted leg down across his lap. Once again he put his hand to her, slipping two fingers into her and resting his thumb on her cleft. He held the fingers in her cunt motionless but he very subtly began to press down and make very small circling movements with his thumb on her clitoris. Missy made a distress whimper. "Keep your hands above your head missy. No pushing me away. If you are afraid you are going to come. Just tell me like you did last time."

Mick looked at her and said, "Look me in the eye, missy, and tell me the truth. Tell me about this girl, tell me everything about it." 

Her eyes were locked on his and she began to speak softly, "There was a girl in college. Her name was Amy. She all the time talked about being bisexual. She said that you couldn't tell if you were bisexual unless you tried it. She was pretty aggressive and kept kind of daring me to do it."

Mick continued to rub the tiny circles on her cleft with his thumb. "And you did do it, didn't you?"

"Yes Mick Sir, I did." 

"Tell me about it."

"Everyone else had gone to a party. I did not go to parties any more, not after what that guy had done to me. I was in dorm room alone. Amy came back with a bottle of tequila. She said that just because I never went out it did not mean that I couldn't have fun. She said that we could have our own party."

Missy shuddered under his hand, her hips starting to move. "I was so mad about what the guy had done. I felt so bad and vulnerable. I don't know how much tequila I drank but it wasn't a whole lot. When she kissed me, I let her. I let her do everything."

"Everything?" Mick's thumb began to move faster, the fingers inside her twisting and pressing deeper. "Tell me about everything."

Missy was undulating under his touch. Her voice was hoarse, her breathing coming in soft pants, "She kissed me and undressed me. She kept her clothes on. She kissed me slowly all over, my lips, my neck, and my breasts. I just laid there. I did not make any noises, but I liked it. When she went down on me I came. I never did it again." By the time she had finished speaking her voice was a strangled squeak, her body arched and tensed. "Please I beg you Mick Sir. Let me come. Please, please, please." 

Mick's fingers were pumping in and out, his voice was tense as he asked her, "Do you ever think about her when you masturbate? Do you sometimes think about a woman's tongue on your cunt when you touch yourself?"

Missy could barely speak, "Yes! Yes I do!" And again she pled. "Please I can't stop it. Please I beg you."

"Yes, missy, you may come, come for me."

Missy sucked in a deep breath of air as her neck arched back and then let out a long deep sigh. She was so silent that for a minute Mick wondered if she was really coming. But then he could feel the walls of her cunt spasming rhythmically around his fingers, a flood of wetness welling up and over his fingers. Her body began rippling and surging with each movement of his fingers in her. It was only on her second breath that she moaned, long and low, starting soft but building louder.

Her legs closed around him, catching and squeezing him, instinctively wrapping around his body. Her climax built and built, her moans changing to hoarse broken cries. The contractions of her pelvis seemed to spread across her body, shaking her, making her curl up and arch back over and over. Mick watched, a curious look on his face, his fingers forcing wave of wave of ecstasy. Only when her legs hung lax around his waist and his fingers forcing nothing but quivers and jerks from her dripping body did he relent.

Mick carefully extricated himself from the circle of her legs and missy curled up, her eyes closed and her breathing soft and deep. For the first time she forgot to keep her hands above her head, wrapping around arms around herself. A shiver shook her. Mick laid a blanket over her sweat soaked body and walked to the bathroom. As he washed his hands he caught his face in the mirror and nodded to at his image. 

When missy woke he was sitting at the desk writing. She slipped from the bed and knelt at his feet, her hand cautiously raised.

"Yes missy?"

"Mick Sir, this student needs to use the restroom, please."

"Go on then."

"Thank you, Mick Sir."

When she returned, her hair was combed and he could smell the scent of soap around her. When she knelt at his feet he stroked her hair and spoke, "Missy you kept a secret from me by not telling me about your sexual experience with the girl in college. But you are correct I had not asked you about women. Missy is that the only time you have had sex with another woman?"

Missy answered promptly her voice was clear. "Yes Mick Sir."

"But you still sometimes think about it?"

"Sometime yes Mick Sir, but not all the time. Not at all since you came to me." Missy hesitated and then corrected herself. "I am sorry Mick Sir that is not accurate. I did think about her when you were touching me this last time. But you were asking me about it."

"Have there been any other women you wanted, women you were sexually attracted to since then?"

"Yes Mick Sir. Sometimes I would see a pretty girl on TV or at the store, that reminded me of her and I would remember."

"So if you had the opportunity you would like to have another woman do that to you again?"

"I don't know. I would be embarrassed and I would be afraid you would be angry with me. I would rather be with you." Missy's voice was soft and thoughtful. Mick felt her body flinch and she quickly added, "Mick Sir, I would rather be with you." And she repeated, almost like she was reminding herself. "Mick Sir."

"And if I commanded you to fuck another woman?"

Missy did not hesitate, "If my teacher gave me a command, I would obey, Mick Sir."

Mick chuckled and pulled her head against his thigh. "Good answer missy. Nice attitude." He could feel her gently press her lips to his leg. 

"Missy I have been making a list of things I want you to do this week. I expect all the items on this list to be completed by Friday afternoon. I am not sure if you will be able to get all this done without taking some time off from work, so you may need to do that." He handed her the papers he had been writing on. "Read these and then we will discuss them if you have any questions."

Missy looked at the papers in her hands.

Before I leave today: Lay out clothes for the week, Talk about makeup and hairstyle, and Review rules of behavior for week. 

During week: Get birth control, Dye hair black, get bangs cut, clean basement top to bottom, catalog all crap in main floor of house, Get EBay account and put up at least ten items up for auction.

To buy list: 100' Coaxial Cable, Have a menu planned and make sure that all the food items we need to eat next weekend are in refrigerator.

Mick came back downstairs with a beer in his hand, and sat down. He held his hand out and missy handed him back the sheets of paper. "Do you think you will be able to get these done?"

"Yes Mick Sir. The only thing that might be difficult is getting a doctor's appointment for the birth control."

"I want this to be done first. If you can't get an appointment, go to the local Planned Parenthood place. I expect you to be baby proof by next Friday."

"Yes Mick Sir, I will call first thing this Monday and get started on that." Missy wanted this even more than him. It had only taken one experience with a condom to make her decide she totally hated those things.

"So let's start with the hair and makeup. Come up to your bedroom and I will show you how I want your hair on your computer." 

Missy watched as he brought up some pictures of a woman on the screen. She fought to keep from giggling when she recognized Pauley Perrette, the actress that played the Forensic Specialist Abby Sciuto on the TV show NCIS. It was these little moments that made her remember that he really was just twenty years old. 

Mick was completely serious. "I want your hair like this and your make up too."




Mick Britton: Third Lesson Part 05



Missy felt Miss Smith scream in protest. Her brief moment of amusement washed away in the icy realization that he meant for her to do this. "You want me to look like this even at school?"

He turned and looked at her, his eyebrow raised. He lifted his finger and cautioned her. Missy stopped herself and lowered her head. "I am sorry Mick Sir, I forgot the rules."

"Missy, go get the wooden spatula and come back."

As she handed him the spatula, he repeated the lesson, "Missy a student who is about to be punished must speak to her teacher about her transgression, apologize for her lapse, state that she is presenting herself for correction and then beg his forgiveness."

"I am sorry Mick Sir. I spoke without permission. I did not use respectful words." She held out her hands palm up, "I am... presenting myself for correction. Please forgive me."

Her hands were red and aching with agony when he finished. As she stammered out her thank you, he spoke again. "Missy I am beginning to think you just don't care."

Missy could not stand that and dissolved into sobs. "I am sorry. I just keep forgetting. Please Mick Sir, I do care. I really do."

"OK, go down stairs to the laundry room and get a clothes pin and come back." When she returned he took the clothes pin and to her surprise put it on his own lip. He frowned and took it off and bent the spring a little and tried it again. He smiled and crooked his finger to her to move closer. "Stick your lips out." He made a face at her, thrusting his lips out, "Like this." When she mimicked his face he put the clothes pin on her lips. "Now you will have to take this off to talk. Perhaps this will help you remember to stop and think before you blurt things out."

Missy felt a little silly with the wooden clothes pin on her lips, it did not pinch, just gripped her lips together gently but it felt odd and wobbled a little when she nodded.

"And yes, even at school. I expect you to have black hair and makeup tomorrow morning. I expect you to have bangs and braids by Tuesday. When you have gotten the birth control I want you to put a red apple on your desk. Let's go pick out the clothing I want you to wear when you are at school."

Missy was pretty relieved when he chose relatively conservative outfits, focusing on dark skirts and white blouses. He did tell her that he wanted her to leave the top two buttons of the blouses unbuttoned and that she was not allowed to wear underwear but the skirts reached down to her knees, so that did not alarm her. He did allow her to wear a bra and garters and stockings. Mick frowned when he found her shoe selection so small and no heels at all. "You will need to buy some heels. Add shoe shopping to that list. Black, not too high for work, but feminine, not clunky. While you are shopping for shoes get something vampy."

Missy was a little confused and she lifted her hand to point at the clothes pin holding her lips pinched shut. Mick suppressed a smile and asked her, "Missy do you have a question?" When she nodded vigorously the pin wobbling up and down with her head movements, he laughed and said, "Missy if you have a question, you may remove the clothes pin and ask permission to ask a question." 

Taking off the clothes pin and asked, "Mick Sir may I please ask a question about the shoes?"

"Yes missy, you may ask."

"Mick Sir, I am sorry but I am not sure if I know what you mean by 'vampy'."

"Higher heels, open toed, ankle straps... you know 'come fuck me shoes'."

Missy could not suppress a tiny giggle and then she murmured in a soft voice, "Thank you Mick Sir. I have not heard of 'come fuck me shoes' before but I understand what you mean now." She put the clothes pin back on her lips.

Mick nodded, "OK let's talk about rules for the evenings after work. I do not want you staying so late at work."

Missy's hand flew to the clothes pin and she blurted out, "Mick Sir, may I please ask you a question?"

"Yes missy."

"Please Mick Sir, I have a lot of work to do. I have to stay late."

"What is it that keeps you so late at work that none of the other teachers seem to need to do? Missy I watched you at that school. You always stay later than everyone else."

"I... um... I have to read and grade papers, Mick Sir. I need to go over my lesson plans... and um..." She knew that she did not really need to stay that late. That a lot of the things she did were because she was reluctant to come home and be alone in this house. Her shoulders sagged, "And I hate to come home."

"Well that is why you are going to be busy with the EBay thing. You are going to turn all this shit into cash. And then you are going to make this house really a nice place to come home to." He picked up her hand holding the clothes pin and raised it to her lips. "Put it back missy." Her eyes were dazed as she put the pin back on her mouth.

"Like I was saying you will come home from work at the same time that the other teachers do. As soon as you are home you will take off your clothing and get to work on the assigned tasks I have given you." 

Again she took off the clothes pin, and asked, "Mick Sir may I ask a question about the EBay?"

"Yes you may."

"I am sorry Mick Sir, I don't know how." She put the pin back on.

"It is not that difficult. They will tell you how. Do your best. I will be calling now and then in the evenings to see how you are doing. If you are really having difficulty, we can talk about it then."

The idea that he would be calling made her feel calmer somehow. 

"Now last of all missy, you are going to keep your busy little fingers out of your cunt. Do you understand? No masturbating. No rubbing up against other things. No orgasms. Orgasms are for when I am with you."

As her hand reached for the clothes pin, he grabbed it and forced it down to her side. "No missy, no you may not ask a question about that. And if you try to deceive me about this I will know. You are a terrible liar and you know that don't you."

The clothes pin wobbled as she miserably nodded.

"So I will see you at school but we will not speak. You will treat me exactly the same as any other student. I will look for the red apple on your desk. On Friday, at eight o'clock, I will expect to find you kneeling on your pad in the basement, with the clothes pin on your lips."


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu



Mick Britton: Third Lesson



She had the armful of belts clutched in her arms when she went back down to the basement. Mick's eyes lit up as she stood before him. "Very good missy, better than I had hoped. Go ahead and drop them." After she let them fall to the floor he began to sort them out. He chose four of the widest belts and began to fit them around her wrists and ankles, pulling them snug and marking where to punch new holes for the buckles. 

He repeated the process for a belt around her waist and four others that went around her upper arms and thighs. One last narrower belt was put around her neck and marked. Missy stood trembling and flinching as his hands moved her and put the belts on and off her, measuring and testing. He did not speak but at one point looked up and asked distractedly, "You got a CD player around here? We will definitely want to have some tunes down here."

"No Mick Sir." 

He looked at her and looked surprised and then shrugged. "Well we have lots of time to get this place fixed up right. I will give you a list of things I want down here."

"Yes Sir."

Mick took the drill and began to fasten the shortened belts to the plywood with screws. When he was done he gestured for her to stand against the board and began to strap her to it. As he fastened each belt around her, the sensation of being bound motionless became almost overwhelming. When he buckled the final leather strap around her neck, an almost involuntary surge of panic made her struggle against the bindings that pinned her to the wall like an exotic butterfly.

"I was just going to suggest that you see how that feels." His voice was amused.

Her eyes were panicked and filled with tears as she looked at him, pleading with her eyes to be freed. "You must accustom yourself to being restrained missy. There will be very few times when you will be truly free. I find you make a very attractive wall decoration." He leaned down and took one of her nipples between his lips sucking it into his mouth sending waves of pleasure shooting through her. He moved back and forth between her breasts stretching her nipples and then letting the suction break with an audible pop and then moving to the other. 

Rising up he leaned hard against her taking her mouth in his and grinding his body against hers. His clothing was rough against her skin, chafing her nipples. Soft inarticulate pleading whimpers rose from her. Slowly his lips moved down her neck and along her belly, finding their way down to the cleft between her legs. The belt around her neck was high enough that she could not look down. Missy could do nothing but quiver and moan as his tongue spread her open and caressed her very center.

His fingers slipped through the moisture running down her thighs and moved to the vibrating plug in her ass, pushing and twisting at it. She was straining against the belts and making soft guttural cries as her orgasm built and built. Just as she was teetering on the edge he pulled back and wiping his lips with his hand he rocked back on his heels and looked up at her jerking and lunging trying to reach his mouth. 

"You want to come don't you missy."

"Oh god yes. Please! Please do it some more. I am so close. It's so close!"

"OK missy you choose. I can let you down and you will not get this orgasm you seem to want so badly or I will give you what you want and we will leave you hanging up here for as long as I choose."

Missy did not hesitate. "Come! I want to come!" Her voice was hoarse and desperate. 

"So you are choosing to stay strapped to the wall? No matter how long it will be?"

"Don't care. Please Mick Sir. I really need this. Please!"

As he leaned in and took her into his mouth, his tongue working at the clit, she cried out. "Oh god yes! Fuck yes!" Her orgasm took her, shaking her whole body. It seemed to last for minutes growing stronger and stronger, wave after wave crashing over her. 

When she finally hung limp, sweat running down her body, he gently reached and turned off the vibrations in her ass and stood. He looked closely at her face, her eyes were softly closed and she breathed deeply and rhythmically through her open lips. He slipped his finger between the leather and her neck, carefully checking that it was not too tight. 

He chuckled softly to himself and walked from the room.


Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please do me the kindness of rating and leaving me feedback. Constructive and/or critical, public or private, raving or troll; I love to hear from you

To those who leave anonymous feedback, I regret I cannot respond to you individually. Please accept my appreciation in advance. 

xantu