Under Her Thumb - Sex Stories

Under Her Thumb

... beg me to let you do the training? Did you not say you could handle it? I told you, make him take notes, and make him read what he wrote down to make sure it’s all there.’ ‘But I told him. He said he didn’t need to, that he would memorize it.’ ‘Memorize, my ass. They never get it right. That’s what the whole fucking training program is all about!’ ‘I-I’m sorry, Ms. Saunders. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.’ ‘Sorry won’t do. Get the crop.’ ‘Oh no, Ms. Saunders. Not the crop. I’ll do anything…’ ‘Oh, you will do anything, I can promise you that. You’re coming home with me tonight and I will go to town on you. I deserve that much. But now you must be punished.’ Ms. Pennington transforms before my eyes into a little girl. Her shoulders droop, her head drops and she starts to snicker. ‘P-please, Ms. S-saunders. N-not the c-crop.’ ‘I’m not going to ask you again. Get the crop. Now!’ Ms. Pennington shuffles into the bathroom and comes back with a riding crop, which she hands over to Ms. Saunders. Ms. Saunders taps the desk with the tip of the crop. Ms. Pennington is silently whining while she unbuttons her pants and walks over to the desk. She doubles over, resting her elbows on the desk and lowering her head between her arms. She is trembling. Ms. Saunders steps behind her and pulls down Ms. Pennington’s pants, exposing a pair of Minnie Mouse briefs. She inserts the crop vertically into the briefs in line with Ms. Pennington’s ass crack and levering it against her crotch, ...

... pulls them down just enough to expose Ms. Pennington’s shuddering white buns. ‘What are you looking at?’ I am so fascinated by the scene unfolding before me that it takes me a few seconds to realize Ms. Saunders is talking to me. ‘N-n-nothing.’ ‘Do you think this is for your benefit?’ ‘N-no, of course not.’ ‘Pull down your pants.’ ‘W-what?’ The leather loop at the tip of the riding crop hits me squarely on the mouth. ‘Your pants! Down! I want to see your dick.’ I reluctantly unbutton my trousers. The crop lashes painfully across my upper arm. ‘Don’t stall. Show me your dick. Now.’ My pants crumple around my ankles. When I pull my boxers down, my insipient erection hooks behind the elastic band and whips into view. Immediately, it is sent reeling by successive lashes by the crop. I cover myself with my hands and double over, but there is no escaping the whizzing rod as it whips through the air in a crisscross pattern. ‘I knew it! You sleazy bastard! You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Come here. Get onto the desk. Right here.’ Ms. Saunders slides aside the tray with her coffee and taps the desk in front of Ms. Pennington. I bend over to pull up my trousers, but the crop lashing across the back of my head freezes me in mid motion. ‘No! As you are. Kneel on the desk and put your dick into Ms. Pennington’s mouth.’ Ms. Pennington’s head shoots up. There is disgust in her eyes, but she says nothing. I stumble onto the desk and kneel before her. Ms. Saunders hooks the crop beneath Ms. ...