FOX AND HOUNDS Pt 3
Julia was energized. The demonstration in the drawing room had been
exhilerating. And there was more to come tonight. Julia shrugged out of her
tight jodpurs and changed into a black straight miniskirt and a longsleeved
white blouse with a choker collar. The blouse had a ruffle down its front which
was fastened with pearl buttons. She styled her long blonde hair into a bun and
put on a pair of hornrimmed glasses. There, she thought, the effect was
perfect--a combination of sexiness and severity, she appeared as a schoolboy
fantasy, the strict schoolmistress with the body and face of a goddess. Tonight
she had a role to play and she had to give a lesson to a very deserving young
man.
She had an appointment with Peter Radix, one of the new breed of entreprenuers
riding the crest of the internet age. A millionaire at 30, Peter had his own
company. He was a brilliant software engineer, but when it came to running his
company, well , that was where things had put him in a bad situation. He had
allowed his employees to sexually harass a young female clerk. He had even made
a pass at her himself, and rebuffed, he had stood silently by, allowing some of
his male subordinates to make this woman's life miserable. The result was
predictable. She sued. Peter, facing a demand for stiff damages and not having
much of a defense, offered to settle. But the woman wanted more than money. She
wanted Peter himself to feel some of the shame and humiliation she had been put
through. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for Peter, she had an experienced
female attorney who had heard of "The Little Red Schoolhouse."
The Little Red Schoolhouse had been Julia's brainchild. Funded by Fantasies
Unlimited, it had started out as a retro real-life experience for submissively
inclined individuals who wanted a fantasy immersion in a turn-of the-century
schoolhouse complete with strict schoolmarms and liberal doses of corporal
punishment. Later it branched out to accept not only those looking for a kinky
thrill, but deserving men and women who actually needed a little discipline.
Little by little word leaked out among a select group of judges, social workers,
attorneys, CEO's of companies and others in positions of power that good old
fashioned discipline could be purchased for those in need of such a thing.
Clients began to show up--sent there because of some judge's order, a condition
of probation, a legal settlement or an ultimatum given by someone with the power
to do so. Shoplifting housewives, embezzling secretaries, young graffiti artists
and lazy heirs all found themselves undergoing a weekend of instuction and
discipline at the hands of Julia and her hand picked staff. The classes and
lessons were real, and so was the punishment for failure or poor performance.
Julia made liberal use of the traditional American schoolhouse tools for
disciplining her charges. Thus the hickory switch, the wooden paddle, the school
strap, and the ruler were in frequent use.
Peter hurried along the hotel corridor. He didn't want anyone to see him dressed
the way he was. As instructed he was on his way to a "make up" class with Ms
Julia, having been excused midway through a "Schoolhouse" weekend because of a
family emergency. He was dressed in garb that was standard for male
"Schoolhouse" attendees. He wore short pants, about a size too small, a white
shirt, blue tie, knee socks and leather shoes. It was a juvenile costume
calculated to embarass. Nervously he knocked on Julia's door. When Julia opened
the door, the sight of her in the sexy schoolteacher's outfit produced another
jolt to his already burgeoning hard-on which had resulted from his viewing of
Suzy's whippings. In truth Peter was smitten with Julia, not only her beauty,
but her commanding presence. Peter could not explain it, but he was jelly in the
hands of such a strong, lovely, no-nonsense woman. So when she had told him to
meet her at this resort, on this weekend, he did.
Julia bade Peter come in, and, eyeing him cooly, pivoted and strode to her desk
at one end of the large luxury suite. Peter could not tear his eyes from the
swaying rounds of Julia's buttocks, sheathed in the tight skirt she wore.
Seating herself at the desk she looked every inch the stern schoolmistress about
to scold a nuaghty student.
"You know why you are here Peter. Did you finish the assignment I gave you?"
"Ah...almost, Ms Julia, here's what I have", said Peter apologetically, handing
Julia a sheaf of papers.
"Why this is most incomplete, Peter. You were to write an essay describing how
your company was to eliminate sexual harassment in the workplace."
"Ah...yes, ma'am, I just didn't have time to finish it," said Peter with a
woeful look.
"That is unacceptable, Peter. I cannot report to Ms Johnson's attorney that you
have completed the weekend with me that you agreed to do. Your failure to
complete this assignment will have to be punished. Further I intend to give you
a test that you will sit in this room and complete which I will then grade."
Peter swallowed nervously. "Yes, ma'am" was all he could say.
Picking up a sturdy 18" ruler, Julia dragged an armless chair in front of the
desk. Peter's eyes widened as his gaze fixated on the hard, thick ruler. Julia
sat down and tapped the ruler against her palm. "You have only yourself to blame
for this Peter. I am going to teach you to take this matter seriously. Drop your
pants. Now."
Part of Peter could not believe what was happening. She really intended to spank
him! His mouth was dry and his palms sweated. He did not want her to see his
rising excitement. "Please, Ms Julia, isn't there some other way..."
"NOW, Peter," commanded Julia.
With an abject groan Peter unzipped the shorts and dragged them to his knees. He
hobbled over to Julia who yanked down his jockey shorts to reveal a turgid,
bobbing penis which he tried to cover up with his hands.
"I see my little boy thinks this will be fun. I assure you that you will feel
differently in a few moments. Get over my knee!"
Peter flopped across her lap, bottoms up. Julia allowed her thighs to come apart
just enough to capture the engorged member trapping it between her stockinged
legs. Peter gave a little gasp at the feel of this delicious friction and at the
embarassment of lying bottoms up across her knee like a ten-year-old.
"Peter, you are about to receive a good old fashioned schoolhouse licking. Do
not attempt to get off my lap until I am through and do not put your hands in
the way of my ruler. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ms Julia," choked Peter.
Julia raised the ruler and brought it down with a forceful smack!, bridging the
crest of Peter's buttocks. Another smack followed. And another.
"Ow!...ow!....ow!" yelled Peter. "I'm just beginning, Mr Radix," said Julia, "so
keep still."
Julia started to rain down spank after spank with the heavy ruler, putting
plenty of arm and a flick of the wrist into each lick. Peter winced and yelped
at each sharp smack which quickly started to burn his bare backside with a
searing heat. The spanking continued unabated for several minutes. Julia's
strong right arm delivered crisp meaty smacks that caused bands of red to appear
across Peter's tender rear cheeks, prompting Peter to have to struggle to choke
back tears of pain and humiliation. It was such a childish punishment, thought
Peter, and so humiliating. Here he was, 30 years old and lying barebottomed
across this attractive woman's knee getting his bare fanny tanned while he
kicked and wriggled like a little boy in the third grade. "Ow...ow...ow...ow..."
he bleated. He could not help himself. Each smack burned like fire, his butt
felt like it was being toasted with a hot iron.
With a final flurry of spanks that left Peter begging for mercy, Julia stopped.
"Now you may get up, Peter, and pull your pants back up."
Peter's pants were bunched around his knees. This seemed somehow even more
humiliating than if he had taken them off completely. He hobbled to his feet and
hurriedly pulled them up, wincing as the cloth contacted his inflamed seat.
Julia noticed the absence of the former hard penis. Good, she thought, this was
was for punishment, not pleasure.
"Now, sit down in that chair, Peter, we are not finished. You will finalize this
essay and get it to me within a week or there will be a repeat of tonight's
treatment, do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," said a red faced and thoroughly chastised Peter.
"We will now have a test. I have prepared some questions about sexual harassment
that, if you have read the materials assigned to you, you should know. You have
10 minutes to answer these 20 questions and hand this test back to me. I will
grade you. You will be assessed one stroke of the cane for each incorrect
answer. Are you ready?"
This was all happening so fast. Peter had skimmed through the stuff on the plane
but God!-- a stroke with a cane on his already inflamed ass for each wrong
answer--he couldn't bear it.
"Please Ms Julia, I can't...."
"We are starting NOW Peter." And she clicked on a timer.
Peter bent to the task. He was in luck--he had seen most of this stuff. When the
timer rang 10 minutes later, he was confident that he had answered all
correctly. He handed the paper to Julia who was seated behind the desk. He stood
before her as she went over the paper, making a mark here and there. After a few
minutes she looked up.
"You did fair I would say, only 6 wrong. You should have studied harder, my
boy."
Six? Six? thought Peter. That meant six strokes with a cane! Did she really mean
to cane him? An icy chill formed in the pit of his stomach as Julia rose and
walked to a basket in the corner of the room and pulled out a thin yellow cane
with a knob at the end.
"Turn the chair around so you can bend over the back, Peter. Pull your pants and
briefs down to your knees, you're getting six with this cane across your bare
bottom." As she spoke she swooshed the cane through the air several times. It
looked very whippy and made an evil whining sound.
Peter had no choice. It was go through with this or the settlement was off. With
trembling hands he peeled down his pants once again. He knew this was going to
hurt.
"Bend over and grip the front of the chair seat. If you let go and rise, that
stroke does not count. You will receive six. Prepare yourself."
Julia took her stance to Peter's right and laid the cane across his vulnerable
and exposed bottom. She tapped him 1...2...3 times then,
SWISH....CRACK! The cane exploded across Peter's tender seat. It felt like a hot
wire. Peter could not believe the pain. It seemed to blot out everything in the
room, leaving only livid fire in his buttocks.
SWISH....WHACK! Again the merciless wand landed.
SWISH.....CRACK! "Yeowwww!" screamed Peter, overcome. He shot up, grabbing his
wealed buns.
"That one will not count Peter. Please resume the position so I can continue
with your caning," said Julia calmly.
"P..please, Ms Julia, I can't stand this. It's killing me," blubbed Peter.
"Nonsense. English schoolboys of 13 take this without flinching and without
uttering a sound. You are a grown man of 30, so take this like a man. Back down
over the chair and no more getting up."
Wiping away the tears that had started to flow, Peter slowly resumed the
humiliating stance over the chair, bottom uppermost.
Julia delivered three more searing cuts over the next minute. Peter howled and
hissed with each one, the pain was so intense. It was if he were nothing but a
pair of buttocks for Julia to whip. The fire in his naked seat overwhelmed all
of his senses. At number six he started to rise, but Julia stopped him.
"I did not give you permission to rise. Get back down, you have one more."
"Oh, please..." began Peter, but he stopped when his eyes met Julia's steely
gaze. He bent over again.
SWISH....Thwack! "Ow...ow...ow...", the hardest one yet thought Peter.
Having concluded, Julia turned and strode to the basket replacing the cruel
cane. Through red rimmed eyes Peter marvelled at how so desireable a woman could
have whipped him like a child while he just let her do it. He observed the
swaying haunches in the tight miniskirt and knew that if she had chosen to give
him six more he would have obeyed her.
"All right, Peter, you may rise. Replace your pants."
Peter tried to regain his composure through teary eyes and the painful throbbing
in his behind.
Julia turned and addressed him. "All right, Peter, we are done. I hope there are
no hard feelings. I think you are very sweet. You are a good man, but, I fear,
in this matter, a bad boy. So you have now been duly punished and when I receive
your paper I will report to Ms Johnson's attorney that you have completed the
course of instruction. You may go."
Dismissed, Peter mumbled a 'thank you Ms Julia' and gingerly made his way back
to his room, trying once again to avoid other guests seeing him in such juvenile
and humiliating clothing. Back in his room he shucked his pants and viewed the
damage in the mirror. Seven precision-placed weals decorated his buttocks.
***********************************************************************
In her room Cindy tried to sleep but she tossed and turned. Once or twice she
heard muffled smacking noises coming from the main hotel across the garden and
still later a sharp sound like a twig breaking. 1...2...3, then a pause,
4...5...6, then later one more. Was this Julia's naughty young man getting his
just desserts?
What had she gotten herself into? The money had blinded her. Witnessing the
flogging demonstration that evening had reminded her that she might be in for
some serious and painful punishment. And yet, Julia had been right. She was
horney. Her lust had been triggered by the naked whippings inflicted on poor
Suzy and her observation of the obvious effect on the men. She had especially
felt the heat radiating from Mark. Toward the end, when Suzy had been lashed
with the dogwhip Mark had put his hand around her waist and had pressed into her
from behind. She had responded, allowing her body to relax against his and had
felt his hard prick pushing against the groove between her bottomcheeks. Had she
been allowed to, she would have gone to his room that night and given herself to
him. As dawn pushed relentlessly forward, she finally fell into a fitful sleep.
