by Cyan
Copyright 2008 by Cyan
All Rights Reserved; No Redistribution.
"OK, what's wrong?" asked Taylor. I glanced at her, and immediately saw there was going to be no way out of this. "Something's obviously bothering you," she said. I wondered how she spotted it so readily. "Give."
"I--my psych homework isn't done." Taylor stared at me. "It was due today and I didn't have it."
"You? Late with an assignment?" said Taylor, looking amused, and I wanted to just die. "You are never late, Miss Always-On-Time! What possessed you?" She wasn't making it better. I thought about the fact that I still needed to get back to work on it, and I was not going to put this off. Dr. Black obviously hadn't noticed and maybe I could turn it in by the time he did. Taylor was grinning. "How are you going to deal with being no better than the rest of us? Listen, I know what to do," and she darted out of the room.
I was glad that little scene was over, but still felt uneasy. And in a minute, she came back, with Brittany from down the hall. "Late with your homework, Amanda?" said Brittany, smiling.
It was a nightmare. I didn't really know Brittany well, and hadn't even been certain she would even know my name. "You know, you really need to do something about that," she added.
Well it's not like it had ever happened before, or at least not since middle school. "But I'll help you take care of it," said Brittany. "We need to make sure you don't get off scot-free." And she picked up something, a stick.
I looked at it, and realized I hadn't noticed it before. A stick, that had been sitting in the corner of our room, and the way Brittany held it, I realized what it was for. "Time for you to pay."
"What?" I said, amazed and uneasy.
"I'm just going to help you a bit," said Brittany. "You don't want to get into a bad habit, do you? I'll bet you'll turn the work in tomorrow, and your professor will say nothing. And you know what? Deep down inside, your subconscious will know you can get away with it, and next time you're facing a deadline, once again, you'll find yourself procrastinating. And that's how it begins: you let a bad habit take hold and then you get obsessive about it and find you can't handle it. And your life is suddenly all the ups and downs, misery you feel when you're late, and then once again unable to get yourself to work. And you won't know how to handle being late. I'll bet you haven't been late for your homework in months. Years, even, am I right?"
I stared at her. I couldn't believe the things she was saying. "You're not used to it," she added, "You have to nip this in the bud, and we can make sure that subconscious of yours gets the message that there are real consequences, can't we? It's what you need, if you want to put a stop to this, and you know that's the truth."
"You're crazy," I said, feeling stunned, if anything.
"Am I?" said Brittany. The door was closed. "Let's just do this and get it over with. You know you deserve more than the free ride you're professor is about to give you. You want to keep your discipline, don't you, Amanda?"
She held my eyes, and I couldn't believe how brazen she was. And she was twisting things so much. Undergo, what? A spanking, or something like that? To motivate myself to keep up with things? "You know you don't want to start slipping," said Brittany. Taylor simply watched, and neither of them were smiling. "You know this will work," added Brittany. "You will not let yourself slip again."
I just stood there. Somehow I couldn't take my eyes off Brittany's. Why was she devoting this attention to me? Why had Taylor immediately gone off to her? "Get undressed," said Brittany.
"What?" I said.
"It has to be on bare skin," said Brittany. The thing in her hand would obviously be extremely painful. This was crazy, so crazy. I couldn't do this. Yes, it would, as she said, nip it in the bud. It would do that. It would be effective.
* * *
"Put your hands down flat on the bed," said Brittany. Taylor sat in her desk seat, watching the two of us. Brittany still had it in her hands. It would have been impossible to feel more vulnerable. What was I doing? How could I be cooperating with this? Why was I here with these two? Why was Brittany really doing this? "Make sure you don't yell," said Brittany. "It's going to hurt a lot."
It did.
* * *
I trembled. I felt myself almost in tears. It was over, just five, but the way she'd taken her time, I was beside myself each time I awaited the next. I have no idea how I managed to stand it, to stay there and take it. I was so close to crying as I stood there.
"Saturday," said Brittany. I suddenly felt my nakedness again, standing in front of them, holding my butt. "We'll continue."
"What?" I said, both confused and alarmed.
"You want to keep up the discipline," said Brittany. "So you keep in mind the consequences of any future slips. Your subconscious can use reminding."
"No!" I said.
Brittany was silent, for a moment. "You know you don't want to fall into such bad habits," she said. "And you know this works."
* * *
Yet another Saturday! Taylor had gone off somewhere, the first time she'd missed one. When Brittany came to my door, I felt myself quaking. How was I managing to take this? She always seemed so merciless, though thankfully, it was always five and no more. It always seemed like she didn't hold back, that she wanted me in as much pain as she could manage. I so dreaded this, the whole thing.
"Come," said Brittany. She lead the way back out the door! I followed her, confused.
We walked off from the dorm, off campus. And down the block, and finally to a house. Brittany rang the doorbell.
Dr. Kent answered. I stared at her, wondering what was going on. Dr. Kent greeted Brittany, who introduced me. "So," said Dr. Kent. "You need some discipline." From somewhere, she'd picked up a cane.
I looked at Brittany in horror, then at the cane. Dr. Kent? She was head of Woman's Studies. I didn't have her for any class, thank goodness, but I well-knew who she was. I was certain she didn't know me. They were both watching me. "Come," said Dr. Kent.
"Please, no," I heard myself say. I could hear the weakness in my voice. What was happening to me?
"Yes," said Dr. Kent, and Brittany took my hand, leading my after Dr. Kent who led us to what looked like her study. She turned around. "Get ready," she said, eyes on mine. She looked deadly serious.
* * *
She definitely did not hold back! Not a bit! So naked, just cooperating, letting it happen, I didn't understand myself! "How many?" she asked.
"As many as you wish," said Brittany.
"Twenty?" said Dr. Kent.
"Sure," said Brittany. "Fifty." I felt panic rise in me.
* * *
"OK, get dressed," said Dr. Kent. Despite their talk, it had been five, once again. But now I couldn't have felt more humiliated, naked, having to take that. Brittany simply sat, watching. And I found myself feeling stunned.
Dr. Kent no longer had her top or any bra on! She was uncovered, and obviously had been that way when she was whipping me. As I dressed, she pulled on her blouse, but never buttoned it. I quickly, but nervously dressed, and looked at Brittany, feeling panic. What was going on, here?
Dr. Kent saw us back to her front door. At the door, Brittany leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Then, Brittany took my hand and led me out.
As we walked back, my head was spinning.
* * *
"You go," said Brittany. It was the following Saturday.
I found Dr. Kent's house. As soon as she had me ready, I surreptitiously watched her while I waited for her to begin. She pulled off her blouse and took off her bra. For a moment, she held her arm over her breasts, as if to cover herself. Or to rub them, just a little. Then she positioned herself.
Afterward, she sent me on my way. I'd said not a word, and she'd said almost nothing, herself.
* * *
I sat with Ashley at lunch. I knew she was taking a course from Dr. Kent. "How is she?" I asked.
"Really good," said Ashley. "Have your read her articles?" I hadn't, but I had known the college thought highly of her. "She's a good teacher. Guys like her courses too."
I thought about that. "Is she lesbian?" I heard myself ask. I had not known that question was going to come out of my mouth.
"No," said Ashley. "Definitely not." I looked at her, not quite ready to accept that as fact. "Melissa agrees," said Ashley.
"How would Melissa know?" I asked.
Ashley just looked at me, as if I should know that. And I realized exactly how Melissa would know.
* * *
"Come," Dr. Kent said. I followed her. And again, wondered why I was doing this.
A woman sat in the room! On a couch on the far wall, she just sat there. Dr. Kent looked at me as if it were time to prepare myself. I glanced at the woman. It was Ms. Devereux, the tennis coach! She sat there, watching! "Get ready," said Dr. Kent, with emphasis.
I glanced again at Ms. Devereux, who simply watched. Dr. Kent intended that I go through this with Ms. Devereux witnessing the whole thing! I looked at Dr. Kent, feeling panic. "Yes," she said. Her voice was firm.
* * *
I sensed when Dr. Kent removed her blouse and bra. Even with Ms. Devereux there, she did it! I couldn't believe I'd managed to make myself undress and take that position.
Dr. Kent moved close. "Are you recovered from last week?" she said. She never asked such things. Then, she touched my butt.
She put her hand on it, caressing softly. "Well?" she asked.
I mumbled something. She was caressing my butt! I didn't know what to do! I was about to be caned in front of Ms. Devereux and Ms. Kent was fondling me! This could not be happening, I had no idea how this had come to pass!
I realized Ms. Devereux had stood. She now stood close by, watching. Then, stepping even closer, she took hold of Ms. Kent's wrist. She pushed Ms. Kent's hand down, between my legs. To my sex.
I almost came.
Cyan Stories
Erotic fiction, sex stories, for erotica lovers.