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Chapter Twenty

Slowly, dimly, I became aware of my surroundings again. It was an effort to lift my head and look at the rows of watching students, but when I did I saw that several of them were crying, and all looked shocked. I didn't care. There was no room in my head for anything but the slowly-dulling pain.

Slowly, calmly, Anderson undid my restraints. I couldn't stand. My legs were too weak, and I felt that if I moved from the bench I would simply collapse. He helped me to stand, and then helped me to shrug my way into the dressing gown once more. The light fabric of it moved against my welted backside and brought a fresh wave of pain, making me whimper out loud. My face was wet with tears. My throat was sore from screaming.

Slowly, painfully, watched by the entire school, I made my way out of the hall, Anderson supporting me all the way. I felt shell-shocked. But underneath that there was a wonderful euphoria building. I had gotten through the most severe spanking of my life, and the slowly-fading pain was exquisite now, refined. I thought back over the last few minutes: all those people watching me be punished, Anderson standing over me with the cane, the whip and the sting of those hundred lashes.

We arrived at Anderson's office. He ushered me inside, then followed and shut and locked the door behind him. For the first time since he bent me over the bench, I looked at him. He stood before me, handsome and powerful, and my desire for him hit me like a tidal wave. He had punished me. He owned me. I moved into his arms and we kissed, fiercely and for a long time.

Then Anderson guided me gently to his desk, and pushed me down onto it. I gasped in pain as my whipped backside made contact with the smooth wood. I bit my lip. He pushed me down so that I was lying on my back on the surface of the desk, then deftly removed my panties. The burning skin of my bottom was exposed to air, pressed against the wood of the desk, making me writhe.

Anderson undid his belt, gripped my thighs and entered me. I was wet for him already. I'd been wet all through the spanking, even if I didn't realise it. He went deep and I gasped - a new and different kind of pain, but one that I loved. One that felt so right, so good.

Anderson started thrusting into me. He was gentle at first, but then after a minute he reached down and squeezed the tender flesh of my backside, making me squeal in pleasure and surprise and pain. He bucked harder, and I gripped the edge of the desk. I'd never been fucked like this before in my life, and it was wonderful. I wanted it so badly. I needed it.

"Fuck me," I moaned. "Oh, fuck me."

The words spurred him on, and he started thrusting in earnest, hard enough to hurt, hard enough that with each thrust his hips smacked against my already-bruised bottom, bringing fresh pain, wonderful pain. It was more than I could handle. I arched my back against the desk. I could feel him deep inside me, feel his cock filling me completely. I couldn't speak, couldn't think. Every nerve in my body wound up tight like clockwork...

And then...

And then I came. Once, then twice, and then again. I felt like I was floating in the dark, nothing but me and Anderson. It was more intense than any orgasm I'd ever had, complicated and enriched by the pain. I felt my eyes roll back in my head, felt every muscle in my body contracting and releasing. I groaned in utter pleasure.

In a moment, Anderson came too. I felt the tautness of his body give way, and he plunged his cock deeper inside of me than he ever had before. Warm slickness burst out of him and filled me, made me flex my hips towards him and whimper in delight. Six or seven spurts of heat, and then he was done.

He stayed inside of me for a long time before he withdrew, and it was even longer before I could sit up. I felt exhausted, my body full of echoes of pleasure and pain. At last though, I managed to stand, to pull on my clothes. Anderson took a seat behind his desk.

"Did I do well?" I asked."Sir?"

For the first time ever I saw an unguarded flicker across his face. "Very well," he said. "In fact, I think we'll be seeing a lot more of each other this coming term."

I smiled weakly. "I'll try to be good," I said, though we both knew I didn't really mean it.

Chapter Nineteen

We arrived at the bench, and the process began almost immediately. I shed the dressing gown, feeling a hundred pairs of eyes roam over my naked body. A blush crept up my neck and warmed my face, and I did everything I could not to look towards the ranks of students filling the hall. I felt cold and naked and vulnerable standing there in only bra and panties.

Anderson steered me gently towards the bench, and with a hand on the back of my neck, bent me over it. I stared at the floor, felt the cool leather against my skin, felt my breasts crushed against the curved surface of it. The first strap was fastened, so tight that I found I couldn't move the leg even an inch. It bit into my calf. I thought I could detect faint whisperings in the hall. I let my hair fall over my face, hiding me from their eyes.

My other leg was secured in place, then my arms, and finally the strap over my torso. I was shocked to rediscover all over again just how immobilising the bonds were. I could barely wriggle, and my arms and legs were pinned in place. I was so vulnerable there, my bottom exposed, ready to be punished.

Anderson stepped forward and spoke to the assembled students. I didn't hear what he said - I felt at that moment like I was underwater. I knew though that he would be giving some spurious reason for my punishment. I wondered what fictional deed I might have done in order to deserve the lashes I was about to receive. Only one part of his speech penetrated my consciousness. It was the phrase "One hundred strokes".

If I had been nervous before it was nothing to how I felt now. Something very close to panic was budding inside of me. A hundred strokes would be more than I could ever possibly bear. And yet I would have to bear them; I had no choice in the matter. I wanted to struggle to be free, to cry, to beg. Surely Anderson would be lenient on me...

He was not.

There waiting before the first stroke lasted an eternity, and when it came it was a shock. I heard the crack and then felt the force of it a second later. White hot fire flared across my backside, and I cried out in pain and shock. The sting was harder and sharper than I had experienced before, the pain already almost too much. And that was just the first stroke...

The next one came quickly after, without warning. I yelped again, my whole body contorting against the straps. The pain was immense, filling my mind, not leaving room for escape, for thought, for anything else.

Swish! Crack! Anderson whipped me again and again. I lost count. It was all I could do to tense my body against the straps and gasp and squeal and cry as, with each lash, the pain was redoubled, renewed. Tears spring to my eyes and dripped down my nose. I could feel sweat beading on my skin.

Swish! Crack! It was too much. It was unbearable. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to escape the leather straps that held me there. I would have done anything.

This, I realised, was true punishment. This was a true test. I wept openly, and screamed each time Anderson whipped me. My backside burned like it had been branded, and still the lashes came, blindingly painful, the sound of each impact loud in the hushed hall.

"Please," I heard myself wail. "Please, I'm sorry." I didn't know what I was apologising for. "Please, no more."

Swish! Crack! Anderson was merciless. He didn't leave time between lashes for the pain to fade, for me to anticipate the next. The strokes kept coming, hard and fast, building and building to the point where I thought surely I would pass out from the pain. I was gripping the bench so hard my muscles screamed.

Swish! Crack! Each lash seemed to fall in exactly the same place, so that there was a firebrand of pain across my buttocks.

Swish! Crack! How many now? How many more?

Swish! Crack! It was too much to stand. Too much. I screamed and yanked at the straps.

And then, at last, it stopped. For a long minute I didn't know whether to believe that the punishment was over or not. It had been going on so long that it seemed like hours since I was marched into the hall. The pain was excruciating, the sharp lick of the cane giving way to an unbearable burning. I felt a drop of warmth run down my thigh - I didn't realise until later that it was blood.

Chapter Eighteen

In the end I managed a few fitful hours of slumber. I woke early, and spent a long time getting dressed. I was too nervous to eat, and I avoided the other girls in the dorm. In just a few hours they would be watching me, bent over and bound at the front of the hall, jerking and screaming as Anderson whipped me mercilessly...

I inspected myself in the mirror before heading down to Anderson's office. In my school uniform I looked plain, ordinary. I spent a little time fixing my makeup, wanting to look good for him, to please him in every way possible. When I was sure that I looked as good as I could manage, I set off.

Ten minutes before the beginning of assembly, I knocked on his door. He told me to enter, and I did, shutting the door behind me. With each step and each action I brought myself closer to the punishment that I knew was waiting for me. The thought of it made me tremble all through my body.

Anderson was sat on the edge of his desk, a cane on the surface beside him. My eyes went to it immediately, as if drawn by some magnetic force. He cleared his throat.

"Undress," he said. That one simple command almost had the power to make me melt. I started to strip off my clothes, peeling away my blouse and my skirt, removing my shoes and socks. I took off everything except my underwear, and all the while Anderson watched me, his eyes hot on my body.

Then, when I stood there in nothing but plain black bra and panties, Anderson stood up, walked over to me and kissed me full on the mouth. It was the last thing I had been expecting, and it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Warmth surged through my body, and I felt myself unconsciously falling in towards him. His hand was at my shoulder, and his mouth was on my mouth, and I could taste him, feel him. I shut my eyes and kissed back.

And then, with a firm movement, he pushed me away. It was like waking suddenly from a dream, the real world rushing back. I opened my eyes to see him stride to a cupboard at the other end of the office and pluck out a dressing gown, which he gave to me. Still a little unbalanced by the kiss, I pulled it on. It was the same kind of plain white dressing gown that I had seen the two girls wearing when I witnessed my first ever caning. To be pulling it on over my own bare shoulders now felt uncanny.

Without a word we set off towards the assembly hall, walking beside one another, a foot or so apart. The kiss felt like it had created some kind of invisible connection between us, a string that lead from me to him and back again. My heart was pounding and my breath was shallow. The corridor was empty; everyone was in the hall already, and I could hear the soft babble of voices drifting down the hallway towards us.

We kept walking, and when we got to the hall we walked straight inside. Anderson turned and started to make his way down the side of the hall towards the front. I followed, feeling like a puppet, the imaginary strings between me and Anderson controlling my limbs as surely and firmly as if they were physical bonds. I tried to ignore the sudden shocked silence that spread throughout the hall. I tried not to look sideways at the row upon row of friends and teachers and students who were seated in the hall. Every single one of them would see my punishment...

In too few steps we were at the front. And there was the bench, sitting there polished and dully gleaming. At first sight of it I felt a dull stirring of arousal deep in by belly, and I realised in that moment that it was too late to turn back now. Even if I was to change my mind, to decide that I really didn't want to be punished after all, there would be no escape for me.

Chapter Seventeen

Before I knew it, the spanking was over, and I was wrenched back to my feet, then pushed down onto my knees again. It all happened so dizzyingly fast. Anderson's cock was in my mouth again, and this time I sucked and tongued and licked at it in earnest. I pushed one hand up behind his balls and encircled the base of his cock with the other. All my energy was focussed on him now. It was my job, my only duty in the world, to make him come.

It was a few minutes before I felt the twitches start. I backed off a little and pressed my tongue up against his glans, squeezed tighter with my hand around his cock. It was happening. He was going to come in my mouth. The thought made me so horny that for a moment I almost thought I was going to come myself.

And then it happened. The first spurt filled my mouth, salty and hot. His cock felt hard as rock, and his hand found the back of my head and held me there, held me on him. I wouldn't have moved away if I could. I swallowed eagerly, feeling his seed slip down my throat even as more came spurting out. Five or six pumps in all, and then it was done.

I realised I was exhausted. I had put so much into the blowjob. My legs ached from the position I was in, and I felt dizzy from lack of breath. I didn't care. Anderson's seed was still thick in my throat, his hand still loosely resting on the back of my head. Surely I had pleased him. Surely I had done well.

I remained kneeling as Anderson moved away from me, fastening his trousers again. He took a seat behind his desk. I was watching him from the corner of my eye, keeping my head respectfully lowered all the while.

"Stand," he said to me. "Get dressed." I did so. My bottom was a little sore from the spanking, but nowhere near as painful as when he'd used the cane on me. I felt tired and happy, but underneath the current of arousal was still strong. I pulled on my clothes and then awaited his judgement.

"Tomorrow," said Anderson. "Tomorrow morning. Before assembly. You come here." He stood and came to me and ran a hand lightly down my side. The touch felt like it set my nerves on fire. "You've done well," he said, and I felt a thrill of joy at the words. "Tomorrow."

With that I was dismissed. I left the office in a daze, and walked back up to my dormitory barely noticing anything around me. Had I understood right? Was I going to be punished in front of the whole school? Since I'd seen my first caning months ago now it was all I'd wanted. Was it now really just about to happen? A mix of nerves and excitement filled me as I lay in bed.

Sleep came only fitfully. I was horny beyond belief, and it was too much to think that only hours from now my fantasy might finally be fulfilled. My hand crept between my legs, but whenever I came close to making myself come I thought about the morning, and the possibility of being caned in front of all my friends and fellow students and the arousal was mixed with nerves. It was torture. The shame I felt at such a prospect was so complicated - it turned me on all the more and at the same time was dreadful.

Chapter Sixteen

Anderson stood up, moved swiftly to the door and locked it. He turned to face me. "Kneel," he said. As if compelled by his voice, I sank to my knees. And suddenly Anderson was coming towards me, his hands undoing his belt. I felt a swoop of nervous excitement in my belly. His cock was out and he was standing over me, so that all I could see was him. I knew what he wanted of me, and my body yearned to obey, to please him, to give him what he wanted. I titled my face up and opened my mouth. I felt a hand on the side of my face, cupping my cheek with surprising tenderness. I took him in my mouth.

His cock was big and thick, and it filled my mouth completely. It throbbed against my tongue and cheeks, the silky smoothness of it sliding easily past my lips. I'd not given many blowjobs before in my life, and I wanted desperately to please him. I took him as deep as I dared and swirled my tongue against his cock. Every time I felt it throb or twitch a little shiver of pleasure ran through me.

If I could have seen myself then I don't know what I would have thought. Stripped to underwear and kneeling in the corner of Anderson's office, his cock buried deep in my mouth. I looked up at him, but I couldn't see properly. I dipped my head back and forth and felt him swell against me in response. I was wet, down there between my legs. Wet and horny. I closed my lips around him and sucked.

One of my hands was on his thigh, and another was in my lap. I couldn't help myself - I slipped that hand down between my legs and felt the hotness there, the slick, beautiful wetness. I rubbed at myself through my panties, moving my head and sucking in time. I wanted to make Anderson come, to please him, to serve him. I wanted to swallow his seed. The thought of him being inside me was intoxicating.

Suddenly, a hand was in my hair. It seized a handful, gripped and yanked me to my feet. His cock left my mouth, leaving my jaw faintly aching. I was standing, on tiptoes, face to face with Anderson.

"Did I tell you to touch yourself?" he hissed. I didn't know what to say. My hands hovered in the air, not daring to touch him, or myself.

"I... I'm sorry," I managed to choke out. He still had a tight grip on my hair, and my eyes watered from it. My heart fluttered like a tiny bird against my ribs. Then, with a swift movement he turned me around and shoved me forwards to stand by his desk. I found myself bent over it, with one firm hand pressing into the back of my neck. My cheek was against the hard, dark wood. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath.

The first blow made me gasp. Anderson was using his hand. The sensation was quite different from the sharp bite of the cane. It was less painful, but came with a lot more force. So hard that it jerked me against the wooden surface of the desk. A dark thrill ran through me - something about his bare hand against the curve of my backside was intimate and erotic beyond belief.

He delivered a dozen quick, hard blows. They came in such rapid succession that I could barely catch my breath after one landed before the next one fell. The only sound I made through the whole punishment was a series of strained gasps. I gripped the edges of the desk with my hands and focussed on staying still, on taking the punishment like a good, obedient girl.

Chapter Fifteen

Anderson placed the cane against her backside, and I saw the slightest of tremors run through her at the mere touch of it. I wondered if she had been caned before - if she knew the pain she was about to endure. Certainly she had seen other people being caned, had heard their screams and seen them struggling to escape the bonds that held them there.

I could feel my heart thudding in my chest as I watched Anderson raise the cane for his first stroke. It was beautiful. The precision of it, the poise. He held it there, waiting, for an impossibly long time. On the bench the poor girl quivered in terrified anticipation. I could just see her jaw beneath her mop of hair; she was biting her lip.

The cane fell sharply. The crack of it meeting flesh was deafening in the small room. The girl's back arched and a pained yelp escaped her. I jumped too, my nerves on edge. Anderson didn't pause, but lifted the cane again and delivered another stinging stroke. I could see the flesh of her backside ripple as the cane bit into her. She heaved against the leather straps, and I felt a sense of pride at how well I had secured her.

Anderson didn't allow her the slightest pause. He delivered the ten strokes quickly, sharply, one after the other. Each one seemed to fall in exactly the same place as the last. I could only imagine how painful it must be. My sex burned just from watching. I wished that it was me being punished, me taking the whipping with my body pressed against the warm leather and wood of the bench.

All too quickly it was over. Anderson seemed to relax, to stand down. He replaced the whip in its rack, moved behind his desk and sat down. The room was silent and still, apart from the girl on the bench, who was sobbing softly, her back shuddering with her tears. Anderson looked to me, and made a simple gesture with his hand. I understood. He wished me to untie the girl.

I moved quickly and obediently to my task. It was altogether different from tying her in place. Whereas then she had been on edge, even a little resistant, now the fight had gone from her. She was hurting and humiliated and yet glad that her punishment was over. I could sense the relief and the shame rolling off her as I released her arms and legs from their leather restraints.

"Stand," said Anderson, as I undid the last strap over her back. Obediently the girl did, and I returned to my corner. I watched her wince as her skirt fell back over her bruised backside. She wiped tears from her face, and sniffed audibly. She was shaking all over, and when Anderson told her that she was dismissed she practically cringed in fear at his voice.

"Y-y-yes sir," she blurted out, and then took a step towards the door. She looked afraid, as though she expected to be called back for further punishment at any moment. With a nervous glance over her shoulder she skipped the rest of the way to the door and was gone from the office as quickly as she'd arrived.