Short Story, Erotica
Private Tuition
“Yes, I think a little one to one tuition might be beneficial”
Miss Danielle was in the habit of convening a cohort of submissive students to attend her online School. She ruled her class with steely determination and a will to reform her young charges.
It was on the occasion of the beginning of the Spring term, that a certain young crossdressing submissive, Miss Susie happened upon the opportunity to enroll herself within Miss Danielle’s honourable academic establishment.
Susie gamely joined the throng of young ladies who sought to better themselves, through their endeavours, that she might prepare herself well for service to society. I am afraid I must also note that Susie had some ulterior motives, not unconnected with her interest in the exotically seductive, authoritarian allure of a certain Miss D. Of these motives with which the reader shall, in time, become acquainted I would caution, there’s perhaps some sense of shock.
During the deplorable days of lockdown Miss D had been offering her students the chance to please her with some online assignments. Susie set too the challenge with a reasonable degree of enthusiasm.
It was somewhat galling then, for our heroine, Miss D, to find that on the occasion of setting some Maths homework – a deviously difficult piece requiring a calculation of the number of times a poor student had been spanked — that Susie’s performance had been found wanting.
Imagine if you will then, dear Miss D sat at her office desk, elbows pressed against the green leather surface of the mighty oak table. Her ivory white hands cupping her elegant cheeks, peering over the top of her horn rimmed glasses at a cathode ray tube monitor.
Susie’s words now troubled her, to a near convulsive state of perplexion. So much so, that she held no reservation in capitalising her response to the tawdry efforts of this, occasionally, promising young charge. Susie had blathered some reply about, “not being able to count her spankings on her fingers and toes.” This just wouldn’t do!
“SEE ME,” her immaculately polished finger nails stabbed at the keys, roused quite beyond confinement in her response, the words now visible for all of her class on the social media thread. Miss D followed her words with a private message to the the miscreant that read; “I expect a telephone call this afternoon. I shall be waiting. Here is my number….” Miss D, sat back in her oak framed recliner, sighing, “Dear, dear, oh dear.”
Some hours had passed while Miss D went about the business of her afternoon, keeping watch over the often misguided young ladies, whom she had the grave responsibility to guide. From the hall came the gentle ring of her telephone and Miss D, rose to her feet. Without unseemly haste, she made her way down the hall to the ivory white telephone that stood on a teak podium at the end of tiled a corridor. Lifting the receiver to her ear she greeted her caller with customary courtesy, “This is Miss D speaking. Good Afternoon.” Her voice rang out with bell like clarity and resolute precision.
“Hello Miss D, it’s Susie calling. You asked me to ring…. something about unacceptable vagueness,” Susie spluttered.
“Yes, young lady, I think a little one to one tuition might be beneficial, don’t you?” Not, of course giving dear young Susie time to argue before continuing, “If we are to make a proper young lady of you, then certain laxities will require correction!” She snapped. “I want you here at 10 sharp tomorrow morning with your school uniform and all of the things a boy like you needs to become a girl like Susie. Do you understand?”
“Yes Miss D,” Susie replied, “Of course Miss D”.
Taking the heavy, black door knocker in his sweaty hand, Richard, knocked three times on the weathered oak door. A heavy echo resonated through the door frame, summoning the Mistress of the house and in a trice, the door opened, creaking within its frame. Miss towered over him, spying down at him over the rim of her glasses, at his quivering form.
“You had better come in,” she wearily suggested. No sooner had he arrived than she was sending him off to change, “To wear something more appropriate,” and “To become Susie” — with instructions, “To meet her in the study”.
Susie, meekly tapped on the dark stained study door.
“Come,” came the reply. Susie entered the inner sanctum of the good Miss and there, sat at her desk, arms folded in-front of her ample bosom, was the Head Mistress. Miss D stared at her, scowling, sombrely in survey of the young waif who stood on her best Wilton rug in silly high heels and a tartan mini skirt.
What a sight for sore eyes! Susie in her pretty white blouse, striped tie, sweet long white socks, topped off with a long brown wig of hair feigned a curtesy. Miss pursed her lips, almost managing a smile and chuckled dismissively.
She lifted her fine face towards the reprobate form of Susie and began to admonish her, “Tut, tut my girl, we will have to see about your uniform. It’s far from appropriate, unless of course you were planning on making the wrong impression?”
Without giving Susie time to reply, she continued. “Your Maths homework was deplorably unsatisfactory but I am somewhat inclined to believe that you may have a modicum of potential and for that reason, I feel I might have some effect with this gesture of reform. I am going to give you a caning, then you will return to your studies, afresh with that message very clearly imprinted across your pretty bottom.
Do you understand?” She bellowed.
“Yes Miss D,” nodded Susie, hands clasped in-front of her skirt, her heeled feet teetering to balance.
Miss Danielle stood, fixing her eyes on Susie, our Headmistress hesitating just for a moment to tidy her appearance, brushing her luxurious velvet black gown with her hands as if to remove crumbs. Elegantly, she strode in her heels, towards the oak coat stand beside the entrance door. Plucking a cane, deftly from the tall vase at the base of the stand, she ran her right hand to the end of its weighty shaft, before flexing the beastly thing between her outstretched arms.
Susie began to feel that familiar mix of excitement and fear as she watched Miss D. How wonderful she was – statuesque, intelligent, majestic in exercise of control over this sissy girl. A glint in Miss D’s blue eyes had Richard wondering just how he might please her.
Purposefully Miss walked towards Susie and brought herself squarely, almost nose to nose, in-front of the hapless girl. She caught the exotic scent of her perfume was lost, surrounded by treasure, being examined by the greatest of any.
Miss Danielle began to speak, “Susie, I want your hands on my desk, your sweet little chin against the leather and your feet spread, Now!”
Susie spread herself, dutifully across the fine piece of furniture, forcing her bottom and white cotton panties up for her attention. Miss stood to her side, legs parted, her left arm braced against her waist, while her free arm worked the cane through the air in a series of warning swipes.
The tip of cane was used to lift Susie’s ineffective skirt, pushing it up and away to reveal a little bare flesh above her panties. And then, stepping back, one hand on her hip, Dear Miss Danielle lifted the cane above her head to begin the inevitable and perhaps, overdue chastisement of sweet Susie.
Slicing through the air, the rattan weapon traversed the warm air of the study with the most dreadful speed. The draught causing a copy of the Times, atop her desk, to unfurl in protest before slicing quite viciously into the wretch’s bottom.
“Arghh!” A yell escaped from poor Susie’s lipstick caked mouth, the shock of the impact caused her head to rear as the first bite of the cane caught her cold bottom. “Thank you Miss,” she managed.
Our Headmistress paused to enjoy Susie’s response before returning to her endeavour. Lifting the cane high above her head, then, with all necessary force, she drove the cane towards the cotton clad cheeks. Susie’s body bucked from the desk as the searing cut of the cane hit home. Again, Miss lifted the cane back to its starting position before driving it home a third time.
“Owww…” Susie yelled.
“I thinks it’s time we had those silly little panties down, don’t you?” Miss grabbed the fabric in her hand and yanked the flimsy fabric down to Susie’s thighs. Here before our Headmistress, was a boy’s bottom, albeit so very feminine in shape. And here too was the evidence of some arousal, something ‘Susie’ could not hide was pushed against the desk, causing her bottom to lift up as the thing grew.
“Oh dear, is someone pleased to see me?” She quipped.
“Yes Miss,” Susie replied, groaning as pleasure and pain played with her senses. Susie was leaking and something sticky was finding it’s way onto Miss Danielle’s green leather desktop.
“Susie, you are forgetting yourself!” She shrieked. “When I’m done with you, you can lick that up.”
“Yesss Miss,” Susie groaned.
Now, the assault on her bare bottom was to begin in earnest. Miss braced her feet firmly on the floor and prepared herself to continue Susie’s punishment.
Whoosh, “Arghh, thank you Miss”
Whoosh, again Susie thanked her.
Miss D admired the perfectly parallel red wheals that began to rise in front of her on Susie’s curved posterior. Susie’s cheeks clenched with the anticipation of each stroke and the next four strokes were delivered with equal venom and ferocity, until the poor little sissy was squirming in agony.
After a brief respite came another six strokes of the cane. Susie’s bottom was beginning to throb with the pain that the heavy, long cane had wrought in her flesh.
Susie’s hands were wrestling with the edge of the desk, her head turned so that her cheek was able to rest against the desk. Her thoughts were reeling and the pain was helping her find that place of blissful escape.
Miss paced the floor as she considered her young charge’s fate. Then, quite suddenly, she stopped to speak.
“Susie, I want you to stand up and then you will clean that dreadful, horrid mess from my desk with your tongue,” she said.
Standing, Susie, with her panties around her thighs, shuffled towards the desk and lowered her mouth towards the pool of pre-cum. Susie began to lick, quite eagerly, at her own foul mess.
When she was done, Miss issued her final command, “To the corner with you, you dirty creature, hands on head, now.”
Susie, restrained in her gait by the delightful panties, shuffled off to push her little nose against the wall.
Dearest Miss Danielle retired to her generously quilted, green leather, wing backed club chair. Seating herself, she crossed her stockinged legs and patted her lap with satisfaction. Susie could ‘stew’ and jolly well wait for her release.
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