This is the second part of three part story, you can read the first part here.
The location of Alice’s first sit-down dance wasn’t at all where you might expect.
It took place in a long-forgotten corner of Firecrest Manor’s sprawling gardens, where a prodigious moss-cloaked sycamore tree soared out of the bushes and into the skies. Its bark was a dappled silver parchment, in places peeling off in palm-sized splats, revealing a hundred different shades of grey beneath. Where the sun’s rays never reached, a carpet of fuzzy emerald moss clung to its branches, giving the impression that the grand old tree possessed its own lush green shadow.
This was Alice’s tree. Her sentinel. When she was smaller, she used to stare up at its billowing leaves as she sat on the swing in the little playground nearby. Watching it loom and recede as she rocked back and forth. Until one day, when she finally felt strong enough and adventurous enough to try and climb it.
She only got a few metres off the ground on her first attempt, revelling in the experience of doing something so risky, and so daring! But her arboreal adventure had filthied her clothes, long dark dirty smears of crumbled bark streaked across her pale summer dress. That had earned Alice a good hard spanking from her governess when she’d got home, and a scolding admonishment not to ever go climbing trees again. But as Alice lay on her front in bed that night, her bottom still hot and smarting, she’d listened to the leaves’ seductive rustle outside her window, and resolved to climb again regardless.
From then on, whenever Alice climbed her tree, she always undressed completely first, folding her clothes into a neat pile and hiding them behind its enormous trunk. Here they were perfectly hidden, even if someone did happen to stumble into this particular clearing, they’d find no trace of her; unless they looked right behind this very tree. Or straight up, of course.
Alice found climbing bare an exhilarating experience. Her naked thighs embracing the smooth mossy bark as she stretched for the branches above, hauling herself ever higher and higher until she was completely inside the canopy of giant star-shaped leaves. It was cool up here, even on the hottest days, a soothing breeze percolating through the foliage, whispering across her naked skin.
She loved being here during summer rains, hearing drops of water pattering all around her, some trickling through the leaves to splatter and flow across her skin in soothing rivulets. In autumn, she’d pluck the winged seeds and release them in swarms, watching their little rotors spin as they spiralled away beneath her.
Alice always sat in the same place, on a thick, almost horizontal bough. She would kneel first, holding tight to a branch in front of her, then swing each of her legs out into the void, until she was straddling the branch, her feet dangling in free space with almost childish abandon.
There was also a bulge on this bough, just where she liked to sit. She would shuffle forward, until she could feel its knobbly, rutted surface against her soft smooth slit. Then she’d grip her thighs together, locking herself in place, until she could feel her own juices dribbling from her open lips.
This was where Alice liked to masturbate. Far away from the prying eyes of her governess, where she never needed to worry about her bedroom door suddenly swinging open, or explaining away what she’d been doing for so long behind a locked bathroom door. At first, she had played by rubbing her own clit, but soon found slowly grinding herself against the bulge in the branch far more satisfying. As if she was making love to the tree itself.
As she got ever closer, her thighs would grip the bough more tightly, and she’d feel the scratchy bark begin to prickle against her skin. She’d peek out through the foliage ahead of her, through the waving branches to glimpse the grand old house beyond. Sometimes she’d even catch sight of her governess, bustling with purpose, prowling around like an immaculately dressed predator. Alice knew if she was ever caught here, not just completely naked, but so dangerously high above the ground, she’d certainly be severely punished. She’d spend the rest of the summer in punishment panties for sure, and could probably expect to be put to bed with a well-spanked bottom every night.
Yet the thrill of her jeopardy always made Alice come hard. Her thighs would tense, locking around the bough she straddled, pushing her sticky throbbing slit firmly against the bulge in front of her. It made her clit feel like a match-head, rubbing against the rough side of a matchbox, ready at any moment to ignite into flames. When it did, a wave of pleasure surged through her body, loosening her legs’ grip, and sending her feet kicking into the empty air. And that was how, high in her tree, and far away from any disapproving eyes, Alice would pant and gasp in the ecstatic throes of her very first sit-down dance.
On her return to the ground, she’d often be filthy, her hands and thighs soiled with the dark marks of bark-dust and lichens, her crotch sticky from her session of wicked mischief. But the evidence of her illicit misadventure was easily concealed, she always brought a little bottle of water and a flannel when she visited her tree. In minutes, she could be cleaned and dressed, before wandering back to the house, happily and innocently.
The way home always took Alice through the little playground, a circular lawn surrounded by high hedges, home of a still-shiny slide and a pair of swings. This had been where her younger self had once whooshed back and forth, staring upwards at the grand old tree that loomed above her so imposingly at the zenith of her trajectory.
As you passed it, you wouldn’t think there was anything unusual about the playground’s slide, a simple stainless steel ladder with bright green plastic rungs, leading to a little platform about three metres off the ground. Its balcony was decorated to appear like a castle, little square battlements at the top, with arrow-slit windows moulded into the plastic fascia, a little play-tower, just big enough for two to stand at the top.
The slide itself was a shiny metal slope; there used to be a threadbare patch of ground at its end, where kicking feet of squealing sliders had once scuffed away the grass. But Alice and her friends were far too old for slides now, and what once was bare had now regrown. Yet this slide held a very special erotic secret of its own.
Because it was right here that the notorious Red Stripe Gang began…
* * 4 * *
As Headmistress Hastings was reading Alice’s essay in shocked astonishment, its author was dandering casually back to her room. Alice couldn’t help but wonder if her essay had been too forceful, too explicit. It would almost certainly lead to more visits to the ‘dreaded’ Punishment Room – but the truth was, that was just what Alice wanted. Stern authority figures turned her on. Getting spanked turned her on, and being undressed and intimately scrutinised certainly turned her on.
Yet Alice was fed up with all the subterfuge of ‘getting into trouble’, the charade of being whacked like just another silly little schoolgirl. Alice wasn’t a troublemaker, or a delinquent, quite the contrary, she liked rules, and could be very obedient indeed. She thought of her essay as an invitation. It was time for Alice and her Headmistress to get to know each other. Properly. Like grown-ups do.
She pushed through the double doors of her dormitory block, and strode jauntily down the corridor to the room she shared with Penny. She knew without even trying the handle that the door was locked, so rapped briskly with her knuckles. A pause, then the sound of a key turning, and the door opened just a fraction to reveal Penny’s suspicious frown, which lightened immediately when she recognised who it was.
Penny shared this two bed dorm room with Alice, and the pair had been best friends ever since their first year at this school. Penny had an infectious carefree vivacity, something Alice had noticed only days after arriving at the school. It was in the changing rooms after a swimming lesson, whilst most of her classmates were swaddling themselves in oversized towels careful not to reveal too much of themselves, Penny was casually naked, drying herself with a towel in her hand. It had immediately struck Alice how comfortable Penny was in her own body, exhibiting not a hint of shame or embarrassment.
As the other girls cowered, covering their waists like their anxious parents had warned them, Penny stood nonchalantly with her legs astride, the furrow of her slit evident and unconcealed. Moments like these change the courses of lives. Alice stood up, and let her big fluffy towel fall to the bench beneath her. Then she mirrored Penny’s stance, standing proudly naked in front of her peers, and picking up a small towel to continue drying herself. That’s when Penny saw Alice, and realised a kindred spirit too.
Penny pulled the door ajar and ushered Alice inside, locking the door again behind her. Inside two other girls were already waiting, their long-time partners-in-crime Lola and Addison. They’d been sitting on two of three high-backed chairs that were lined up facing her bed, and both stood as Alice entered.
“Good Afternoon, Miss” said Lola, Addison and Penny in unison.
Alice acknowledged their welcome with a smile and signalled to her friends that they could retake their seats.
Each of them was almost completely undressed, only wearing a pair of white panties. It was little wonder that Penny had opened the door so cautiously.
Together, the four of them were the Red Stripe Gang. A secret group of friends who shared a mutual fascination with spanking, kinky games and erotic punishments. They always got together after one of their number had done the Sit-Down Dance. If one of them got their panties pulled, all of them got it; it was gang rules.
And right now was an ideal time for mischief, in that hour after school when the girls of the school were allowed to wander out of the school grounds and into the local village. Very few stayed behind, meaning their neighbouring dorm rooms were practically empty. Those who did stay behind and who might overhear the odd smack and moan – well – too bad. They could make up their own minds about what was causing it, and whatever they imagined still wouldn’t come anywhere close to the outrageousness of the real thing.
Alice sat down on the bed facing the three chairs, feeling the sting from her recent caning and the hot line between her legs throbbing underneath her. But she did her best to remain calmly authoritative.
“Well, girls. Shall we get started?” she asked.
“Yes Miss!” her friends chorused in response.
“Lo, you can be first.”
Lola rose from her seat and took a few strides forward until she was standing in front of Alice, who tugged down her panties to her ankles without saying a word. Lola was shaved bare, of course, as per gang rules. Alice ran her fingertip across her smooth mound and down into her cute little furrow, making Lola coo frustratedly.
“Bend over, naughty girl.”
Lola did as she was told, bending over Alice’s left thigh, reaching over the corner of the bed until her palms were on the floor.
The gang didn’t have a cane for their whackings, but they had managed to improvise the next best thing. On the bed beside Alice was a long wooden school ruler, and a little bowl of cold water, into which she dunked a flannel, first to wet Lola’s bottom, then running the damp flannel along the length of the ruler. They’d discovered long ago that a wet bottom intensified a spanking, making their humble school ruler begin to sting like the fearsome cane of their Headmistress.
Alice moved her right shin against the back of Lola’s legs, pinning her in position, then tapped the ruler threateningly against her cheeks.
“Pay attention, girls,” Alice warned her onlooking friends, “you’ll be getting the same! A good hard whacking on your bare bottoms!”
Her audience squirmed in their seats, their hands fidgeting on their laps. Their nipples already hard, each like little pink buttons.
Alice’s ruler descended with a swish, delivering a resounding whack to the lower part of Lola’s left buttock. A second whack followed to the other cheek. Alice spanked in rapid pairs, left then right. Then after the sixth smack, Alice paused, dampening Lola’s bottom again, and re-wetting the ruler too.
Six more whacks quickly followed, leaving Lola’s bottom as pink as the glistening slit that lay between it. That was the intention, after all.
Her designated whacks received, Lola rose from Alice’s lap and placed her hands obediently on her head, awaiting her inspection.
Lola was the tallest of her four compadres, the proud possessor of extremely svelte physique. She wore her light brown hair in a two braids, which had fallen forward when she’d bent over, and now dangled just above the small round mounds of her breast. Lola had an attention-catching face, with cat-like almond shaped eyes, whose colour somehow seemed to change with her mood, from smouldering grey to excitedly green.
Along with many of the young ladies at this school, Lola was articulate and extremely well-spoken. She had a strong personality, and could come across as aloof and dismissive, but her friends knew her true nature: rambunctious, bubbly and cheeky. Her height had helped make her assured and self-confident, allowing her to swan through life as though nothing could touch her. Only when faced with the consequences of rule-breaking did her mask of composure slip. Whenever she’d waited in the Punishment Room for her Headmistress, she’d found herself trembling with fear. Yet unmistakably aroused too.
Lola’s fateful meeting with Alice in the Punishment Room had occurred after she had encouraged a few of her classmates to sneak out after hours to spy on one of their lady teachers. It had been an open secret that she was sneaking off to the caretaker’s outhouse, and rumours abounded that it was for passionate encounters with the burly young man who was the caretaker’s new assistant.
The giggling group was discovered by a patrolling teacher as they peeked through the outhouse’s foggy window, but Lola was so engrossed in watching the couple in congress she was the only one who was caught red-handed, (actually, wet-handed). Nevertheless, she refused to divulge the names of those who’d accompanied her, claiming it was much too dark to see. (It clearly wasn’t). But that sense of protecting your closest against authority’s cruel whims struck a chord with Alice, and they soon became firm friends. And then something rather more.
Alice reached down to Lola’s ankles, pulling up her panties carefully, ensuring the gusset parted Lola’s puffy wet lips, and was snug against her clit. Then she took Lola’s hand and lead her back to her chair, on top of which were a couple of cushions. Lola took her seat, and Alice knelt behind her, tying the waistband of Lola’s panties to the back of the chair with a shoelace, then tugging the cord until it was quite tight.
Now Lola obediently placed her hands behind her back, on either side of the middle slat of the chair back, allowing Alice to slip a cuff onto each of her wrists. These were improvised too, two old tennis sweatbands sewn together. By having their hands bound behind them they were putting themselves completely under their Mistress’s control. And it kept wandering fingers well away from naughty places.
And that was Lola, ready to dangle. Her white panties tight against her slit, a wet spot already visible between her legs.
Addison was summoned across Alice’s lap next, she was a petite girl, with skin so fair it resembled fine porcelain, something that gave her the appearance of an old-fashioned doll. She wore her honey-coloured hair in long tresses, but the most physically captivating thing about her was her eyes, little green orbs that danced bright with impish amusement. Addison was one of those people who laughed regularly, with a rich and infectious giggle.
Addison was the kind of girl quite determined to never take life too seriously, and whose natural expression was a subtle crooked grin, as if she’d just pulled off some particularly entertaining mischief and was just dying for someone to find out. That propensity for mischief had lead to many visits to the Punishment Room, where she’d met the other members of their little spanking gang, finally discovering three new friends who shared her nefarious mutual interest.
Twelve spanks later, Addison found herself sitting beside Lola with her panties tight against her aching clit, both squirming as they watched Penny’s cute little bottom turn pink. And then there were three; three naughty girls ready to do the sit-down dance.
“Lift up, girls.” Alice announced.
In response, the seated trio braced their heels on the frame of the chair, lifting themselves up from their seats slightly. Alice then moved between them, whipping away the top cushion from beneath each, then reaching down to take their feet down from the chair and onto the floor.
Suddenly, there were gasps and squeals.
As each girl dropped onto the lower cushion, her panties were sharply pulled upwards, dragging harshly against her bottom hole, and burrowing into her weeping slit. At first, they can’t help but squirm, but gradually their movement diminishes, as they realise it’s only making their predicament worse. Clenching their fists bound behind them, all they can do is moan, tormented by the burning strip now running between their legs. Alice could recognise that ragged breathing from her own recent time on the Bench, those short gasps that accompanied the incessant upward tugging friction against her twitching clit…
Alice stood back to admire the sight of her friends bound and helpless, doing the sit down dance, as the evidence of their growing excitement seeped through their underwear. She watched with studious interest for The Pinch, that singular moment when their panties finally tugged back the hood of their clits. A moment marked by a desperate gasp.
Alice could resist the urge no longer. Her own pearl had been throbbing unsatisfied for hours now, as she had been undressed, inspected and spanked, and then left to dangle on the Bench. She began removing her school uniform, not salaciously, but meticulously, folding each garment neatly on the bed as her friends looked on.
Her undressing concluded by unhooking her bra, and then slowly drawing down her own sticky panties. She mounted her bed, and laid on her back, opening her legs and raising her knees to her shoulders, giving her friends a perfect view of her cane marks, a bright pink band of stripes on the lowest part of her bottom.
Given their current predicament, those seated couldn’t help but stare at another stripe, the solitary pink line that ran between Alice’s legs. When they looked at Alice’s swollen clitoris, they couldn’t help but become acutely aware of their own, erect and tender, rubbing against their own underwear. When they each stared at the red stripe around Alice’s bum hole, the fiery heat smouldering between their cheeks seemed to burn more intensely. And when they looked into the gaping wet gash of Alice’s vagina, they could feel the material of their own panties intruding deep between their lips, feeling like it was just one thrust away from delivering the fucking they craved.
Alice playfully ran her fingertip up and down her slit, gathering streams of glistening goo. She raised her head, issuing a challenge to those seated opposite.
“Are you ready to dance for me? To dance like good little girls whilst I come?”
“Yes Miss!” her friends shouted eagerly.
Alice rose, and approached the chairs again. Their occupants lifted themselves up in preparation, placing their heels on the legs of their seats, allowing Alice to whip away the second and last cushion each had been sitting on.
As they lowered their feet to the floor, each girl found her panties pulled uncomfortably, almost brutally, tight, a thin fiery line stretched between their buttocks, threatening to intrude between their soaking slits.
As Alice laid back on the bed, those seated compliantly spread their legs, displaying the narrow white bands now tight against their crotches, perhaps hoping the sight of their vulnerability might somehow quicken their mistress’s climax. Alice certainly relished the sight, propping a couple of pillows behind her shoulders, so she wouldn’t miss a thing as she played.
She let her fingers stray between her lips, finding every part of her vulva delightfully tender. She wondered what Marian and Pansy were doing in their rooms right now. Probably exactly what she was doing now, but without an audience. Alice often pondered that if the sit-down dance was truly a punishment, those who’d done it should be put into some kind of chastity garment for a day, so they had no way of relieving themselves. 24 hours of erotic torment, dominated by the sensation of a hot stripe between one’s legs. That would be punishment. If I was Headmistress, Alice thought, that’s just what I’d do.
Alice’s rubbing had started slow, but was now getting faster and faster. Ever since her caning she’d had an ache deep inside her cunt; and having her panties pulled had just exacerbated it. Now she slid her fingers deep inside in search of long-anticipated relief.
“Please Miss! Hurry Miss!” her friends implored.
The rules of the Red Stripe Gang were you did the sit down dance until the girl in charge finally climaxed.
Each of the members has their own favourite technique. Lola liked to stand astride those seated, facing away if they were to lick her bottom hole, facing towards if they were to lick her cunt. Addison liked to use her hand-held “massager”, running it up and down her slit before pressing its little rubber vibrating head against her clit. Penny liked to come using both holes, rubbing herself to the edge before pushing a finger deep into her bottom. As for Alice, she just liked to rub slowly, and watch. To just let time pass, until her own climax was suddenly imminent and inevitable.
She took a moment to survey the sight before her. There was a clear gap underneath each of her friends as they hovered above their seats, suspended only by the thin shoelace tied to their panties, and whatever strength they had left in their cantilevered thighs. All had stopped fidgeting, admitting defeat in their attempts to find comfortable position, realising any movement just made things worse. And each had a conspicuous wet spot where their underwear disappeared beneath their bodies.
Then she became aware of a rhythmic gasping, eventually realising she was the one who was causing it. Those seated were gasping in unison each time her fingertips completed a full circuit of her vulva, almost willing the orgasm to wash over her. Alice revelled in the growing feeling of tightness in her groin, the pleasurable sensations now overwhelming the burning discomfort of her marks. She could feel herself getting close. So close…
“Please! Miss! Please!”
Alice teetered on the edge, curling two fingers onto the rough patch at the front of her vagina and gripping hard, whilst her other hand rubbed her clit in ever tighter, faster circles. Images from the past flooded her mind, and she somehow found herself thinking back to when the Red Stripe Gang had all begun. In her old childhood playground.
Ah yes, the Play Ground.
Alice and Penny had always enjoyed hanging out in the playground, even though they were both much too old to play on the rather juvenile apparatus. They came here because of its seclusion, a quiet little nook, conveniently ringed by high hedges, well away from the walls of old Firecrest Manor. Were you to sit on the top of the slide, you could peer over the foliage and keep on eye on the only approaching path, the winding line of stepping stones that lead up from the herb garden. Here, Alice had discovered a haven, somewhere her governess couldn’t stumble across her, and that meant it soon became their favourite site for all kinds of naughty mischief.
It had only been a couple of days after Alice and Penny had been put into Punishment Panties by Alice’s governess, Miss Audrey. For Penny, this had been a radically new experience, one that had been indelibly seared into her mind, and one she was rather keen to recreate.
Ever since that event, for which Alice had apologised profusely, and which Penny had told her was no big deal, adding in passing that she was sure she’d think of something Alice could do in recompense. Usually such forfeits involved going over a playmate’s knee, this time however, Penny was to surprise her friend with her ingenuity.
It started when Penny told Alice to take her shoes off, and then led her by the hand towards the playground slide, instructing her to climb to the top. Alice did as she was told, and was surprised to see Penny climbing up behind her, and that she had a skipping rope in her hand. She hadn’t noticed the rope before, so Penny must have taken it out of her knapsack.
When Alice reached the top, she sat down as directed, whilst Penny stood a few rungs from the top of the ladder behind her. Then she felt her skirt being lifted, and the handle of the skipping rope being was passed through the tops of her panties. When the ends of the rope were tied around the balcony rail of the slide, Penny’s intention became perfectly clear.
“Oh Penny, no please!” she pleaded.
“Naughty girls get their panties pulled.” replied her friend, quite unmoved.
“What if She checks my bottom?”
“You’ll just have to stay out of trouble for a few days. Sit forward, on the edge.”
Alice shuffled forward reluctantly, allowing Penny to stand behind her and reach over to push a sweatband over both hands, so it gripped her wrists together.
“Alice Montreux. You have been found guilty of conspiracy to commit mischief, and getting a friend spanked. The sentence of this court is you shall be hanged by your panties, until you are sore. Do you have anything to say?”
“I’ll never forsake mischief!” joked Alice defiantly.
And then Alice felt a sustained shove against her back, enough to push her off the edge and send her slipping down the slide, but only a short distance, as the skipping rope tied to the top of the slide arrested her descent, immediately tugging her panties upwards, painfully between her legs. Initially she brace herself with her feet on the sides of the slide, but her socks offered no grip, and it soon became apparent squirming just made her discomfort worse.
Having one’s panties pulled on The Slide was to become a rite of passage for prospective members of the Red Strip Gang who came to stay at Alice’s house. The playground quickly became a favourite venue for all manner of naughty games.
But Alice and Penny never told their friends the full story of what happened the first time on the slide. How Alice felt the urge to pee, how she pleaded with Penny to release her, and how her cold-hearted refusals just made her predicament even more exciting. And as her excitement grew, the urge to pee intensified.
“Please Pen! I can’t hold on!”
“Don’t you dare, young lady! Or I shall spank your bare bottom!”
Alice could still remember the sudden humiliation of wetting herself, she had tugged up the hem of her skirt, and watched with shocked fascination as her hot gush filled her tightened panties. See could still picture how her stream dribbled and tinkled onto the slide chute, pattering like rain on a sheet metal roof, before trickling down the slide beneath her. The accompanying surge of pleasure wasn’t quite an orgasm, but it felt like the next best thing.
It was a memory so strong, so visceral, it never failed to push her over the edge. But mindful of dorm etiquette, she tried not to cry out too loudly as she came.
Opposite Alice, three faces grinned in unison as they saw Alice cease her rubbing and plunge her fingers deep inside, curling her limbs into her body like a shrinking ball. Mistress had come, and that meant it would be their turn soon.
* * 5 * *
Slowly, Alice’s awareness coalesced, like steam condensing on a bathroom mirror. Her whole body was still humming, as if she was a violin string, still resonating from the crescendo of her ecstatic performance. She opened her eyes reluctantly, blinking amid the light that seemed to have suddenly become so much brighter and more intense. Beyond her, vague figures materialised in her visual haze, her playmates, still dangling by their panties, watching her expectantly.
At this moment she just wanted to lie there, enjoying the after-tingles as she stroked her wet folds, teasing those she was disciplining as they squirmed, gasped and begged. What a wonderful erotic torment the panty-pulling chair had turned out to be, a triumph of their collective improvisation. An inescapable and escalating torment, that not only never failed to arouse its sitter, but always had them pleading for release too. A perfect apparatus to encourage sexual submissiveness. Alice suspected Headmistress Hastings felt exactly the same way.
Speaking of the devil: if she were here now, what Miss Hastings do? That would be fun to role-play, Alice thought, even more fun than rubbing herself. So it was that she began to channel her inner domme, and rose from the bed as authoritatively as her wobbly limbs would allow.
“Well, girls. I hope you all appreciate the consequences of your misbehaviour…”
Alice found herself speaking more slowly, and quietly, as if she didn’t expect anyone to dare interrupt her.
“Yes Miss!” the trio said together.
Alice strode towards Lola, reaching out to her chest to pinch her hard nipples.
“Are your panties tight enough, Lola? Can you feel them deep inside your slit?”
“Oh yes Miss!” she answered desperately.
She pinched Addison’s nipples next, rolling the little pink bulbs between her fingers.
“What do you say, girl?”
“Thank you for my punishment, Miss!”
Satisfied, Alice moved on towards Penny, pinching both her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
“And what would you do, Penny, for your release?”
“Anything, Miss! Anything!”
Alice didn’t often take control, but when she did, she found the power of command intoxicating. She turned her back, and stood astride Penny’s chair, bringing her own bare bottom close to Penny’s panting face.
“Do you like my stripes, girl?”
“They’re beautiful, Miss!”
“They do sting. Kiss them better.”
Penny complied immediately, covering Alice’s bottom in a slow line of warm, wet kisses.
“Are you sore between your legs, Miss? May I kiss you better there too?”
Alice didn’t reply, but bent over, reaching back to hold her own bottom apart, muffling her own sighs as she felt Penny’s firm tongue on her slit. The wet little intruder roved and explored, identifying where Alice flinched, then covering those places with licks and dainty kisses. Penny did the same for the tender bruise on Alice’s perineum, following it upwards until her tongue was circling her bottom hole. And then, threatening to push inside it.
“Ohh. Good girl…” Alice sighed contentedly, half-wanting to stay in position, and let Penny’s tongue work its magic. But she couldn’t help feeling her Headmistress would not be so easily distracted. Maybe later.
She moved forward from Penny’s chair and then behind it, kneeling on the floor whilst she untied Penny’s panties. When the tension was finally released, she dropped a tiny distance to her seat with a gasp of sheer gratitude. Then she stretched open the sweatbands, freeing Penny’s wrists.
“On the bed for bottom inspection, Penny!”
Penny assumed the position expected of her, kneeling on the bed, resting her forehead and hands on the floor, so her bottom was her highest point. Between the pink patches on her buttocks from her earlier spanking, ran the thin band of material of her panties, still deeply embedded into her bottom crevice.
Soon, Addison and Lola had joined Penny on the bed, and Alice stood behind them, ruler in hand. Before her, three naughty bottoms, ready to be inspected. She started spanking, moving briskly between the trio, enforcing her authority by adding a brand new pink hue to their cheeks. She delivered the smacks whilst gripping the waistbands of their panties, now pulled up to the smalls of their backs, which helped deter any childish wiggling.
Then it was time for panties to come down. Each girl gasping aloud as the band of fabric that had been pressing so cruelly between her legs was suddenly loosened. Alice waited for each girl to raise her knees from the bed in turn, allowing her panties to be removed completely, which she then turned inside out and placed on the bed between their owner’s legs. Predictably, the gussets were soaked, with a large glistening circle of stickiness clearly visible on each.
Alice began her inspection by placing her hands on Lola’s bottom. She could immediately feel the heat from her spanked bottom warming her palms. She lingered for a moment, and then tugged Lola’s buttocks apart, revealing the thin red stripe in all its glory.
Alice leant forward, and with her tongue, traced the stripe from Lola’s swollen labia and all the way up to the top of her bottom crevice, skirting her little wrinkled dimple with a couple of playful circuits en route. Lola tasted so good, but not of the kind of sugary confections a juvenile sweet-tooth desires. This was the kind of taste that required an adult palate and a certain maturity to appreciate. Musky and salty, like burnt earth cooled by lapping waves; to Alice, Lola tasted better than the most decadent gateaux.
Addison was to be inspected next, she had the same thin red line between her legs, and mewed appreciatively as Alice’s tongue roved along it, giggling endearingly as Alice tickled her bottom hole.
Then it was Penny’s turn, Alice had seen her friend’s intimate places more times than she could remember, but always felt a special thrill when she inspected a stripe between her legs. It reminded her of that first time, after her governess had put them both in punishment panties, and they’d sneaked off at the first opportunity for a hurried game of show-me-yours, bending over as she was now, feeling Alice’s inquisitive fingertip tracing across her tender flesh.
“Now let that be a lesson to you all,” scolded Alice, as sternly as she could manage. “Naughty girls get sore bottoms.”
“Yes Miss…” the trio agreed solemnly.
“You may sit up now…” added Alice, as she fetched a little velvet bag from her bedside table.
She shook it a few times, prompting the click-clack of small pebbles, then invited her friends to put a hand inside and draw one out.
Lola went first, and drew a white stone.
Addison then drew a black stone.
Penny also drew a black stone, and immediately shared a playful nudge with Addison. That left one pebble for Alice, which was white.
Thrown together by fate, Addison and Penny crossed the room to lie on Penny’s bed, whilst Lola sidled beside Alice, wrapping her long arms around her in a passionate embrace.
“I’ve been such a naughty girl, Miss…” Lola whispered saliciously into Alice’s ear.
“Will you slipper my bum hard before we fuck?”
Just hearing those words sent a jolt of excitement through Alice’s groin. As Lola laid down, Alice fetched a leather slipper from underneath her bed before straddling her playmate’s face, whose tongue wasted no time in lapping at her folds appreciatively. But rather than repay the compliment, Alice remained upright, allowing Lola to rest on her shoulders and raise her long legs until they had passed under Alice’s armpits.
In manuals of sexual ecstasy, this position the two had adopted probably had a suitably exotic name. Two Cranes at Sunset perhaps, or The Strict and Most Munificent Empress. But if that was the case, Alice didn’t know of it; to her, it was just the spank-whilst-being-pleasured position – a chance to soundly slipper Lola’s bottom, and enjoy the sight of her crinkled little hole winking after every whack. Meanwhile Lola attempted to distract Alice from her disciplinary duties by sucking her clit, and gasping her cries into Alice’s tingling cunt.
Alice began by rubbing her partner’s buttocks with her slipper, building her anticipation before unleashing the first volley of spanks. Alice had another hand free as well, of course, and used it to caress the lips of Lola’s slit, depositing her stickiness provocatively on her friend’s own bottom hole, and letting her fingertip intrude a bit deeper every time.
Another flurry of spanks had Lola moaning. By now, there was also a great deal of panting and squelching coming from the other bed too. Alice glanced over to see Penny and Addison already entwined in the 69 position, mutually soothing the sore stripes between their legs with their tongues. It was a position quite familiar to Alice, she and her room mate never went to bed without giving each other a goodnight kiss.
Alice spanked again, as she applied another dozen whacks, she let the index finger of her other hand slide deeper and deeper into Lola’s bottom. She could feel the resistance of her friend’s tight little hole weakening after every smack. Another dozen spanks and her finger was fully inserted, gripped tight in its little vice.
That was when Alice put down her slipper, moving her head forward until the lips of her own mouth could kiss Lola’s gaping pussy. What particularly delighted Alice was feeling the soft warmth of the spanking she’d just given radiating against her forehead. She began to lick, kiss and suckle her playmate’s clitoris, maintaining the pressure of her finger in her bottom until she began to feel the tell-tale trembles, the little squeezes and tremors that indicated a climax was near. Underneath her arms, Alice could feel Lola’s long legs flailing, definitely on the verge of losing control.
Perhaps – Alice thought, as her own climax neared – she’d invite her friends over to stay at Firecrest during the next Easter holidays. She was sure that they’d love to meet her governess, and very sure Ms Audrey would be delighted to meet them – and, if they were naughty, to spank their bare bottoms, and pull up their punishment panties, nice and tight.
Oh wouldn’t that be quite a sight? The infamous Red Stripe Gang in their pretty little girl dresses, panties pulled up especially tight, all lining up to have their sore bottoms inspected.
And then, the room began to fill with the mellifluous sounds of orgasm.
On the other side of Alice’s dormitory door, Miss Hastings knelt, watching everything.
The stripe between her own legs ached, exacerbated by watching the filthy goings-on in the room beyond. Her own view had been limited, through the tiniest gap between the door and its frame, but by shifting her point of view the headmistress had been able to drink in the entire scene.
On each bed a pert little bottom was bobbing in the air, pink patches from a recent spanking clearly visible on each. On one bed, a naked girl laid underneath, lapping between her partner’s legs with her tongue. On the other bed, she easily recognised Alice who was spanking the girl contorted beneath her. They were trying to be quiet, but Miss could still hear their little mews, interspersed by urgent stifled panting.
After Miss Hastings’ own, rather wonderful, climax on the Bench, she had decided to pay Alice a visit. She had wanted to discuss the rather provocative contents of her essay and had a feeling she’d find her in her dorm, rubbing her discomfort away. But she had not expected to find her with company, and so brazenly occupied.
She had been about to knock on the door when she’d noticed the glint of mortice bar in the gap of the door frame, indicating it was locked. This was unusual, dorm rooms weren’t usually locked at this hour – unless nefarious activities were taking place. And so she had decided to kneel in front of the door and see what she could glimpse.
And she had seen everything. Three chairs with the shoelaces dangling. Two pairs of naked young ladies each delightedly licking each other’s places. Pink patches from recent spankings and bright red stripes between their bottom cheeks. She had arrived just in time to witness Alice’s inspect the bottoms of her playmates, a task she had to admit Alice performed with great alacrity.
But the girls had now had their fun, and it was time to re-impose some discipline, to demonstrate who was really in charge around here. And to get to the bottom of what had really been going on behind that door.
She stood, and knocked…
“Alice? Ah, you’re in!” she called, trying to preempt the silly charade whereby the occupants stay silent, desperately trying to pretend there’s really no-one present in the room.
The headmistress knew they’d recognise her voice, and it certainly had the desired effect. From behind the door, there were panicked squeals. A flurry of putting things away and getting dressed again. It was a full 5 minutes before a red-faced Alice finally opened her dormitory door.
Miss Hastings smiled, in the manner of a stalking cat.
“Oh hello Alice…” she said, definitely overdoing the friendly sincerity.
“I thought we might have a little chat…”
To be continued…
spankingtheatre at gmail dot com
Originally posted at spankingtheatre.tumblr.com
You’re welcome to reblog and share.