Life has been challenging lately. And I almost let it overwhelm me. But I'm back, and I'm writing. This is the next part of the Heather and Misty story. Sister Mary has already caned Heather. Now she wants to see Misty. This is what I have so far.
Misty's Punishment - Heather's Girlfriend gets Caned
Heather shook herself awake and rubbed her still tender backside. Dawn was breaking and thin shafts of light speared through the young woman's windows. Both the sun and the pain in her ass cheeks had awakened Heather earlier than normal. Sister Mary had caned her the day before, and while the whipping had left Heather bruised and sore, the orgasm that had swept her body after the beating had more than compensated for the pain. Indeed, Heather was of a mind that the caning had actually made her own orgasm more intense.
Heather sat up in her bed and shifted her sore buttocks back and forth against the cool sheet as she reflected on the day before when the nun had so forcefully applied the cane to her backside. Heather had spent the entire week prior dreading the punishment, even though she wasn't sure what punishment would be applied.
Two weeks ago, Heather had laid out of school. She had skipped every day thinking the nuns at Our Lady of Grief wouldn't notice her absence. She had been wrong. The week that Heather decided to skip school was the week that a new Head Mistress had taken office at the Catholic school: Sister Mary Ignatius.
Just the thought of the nun sent a frightened shiver through Heather's body. But even though that tremor carried fright through her flesh, Heather also felt lust and desire. The nun, Heather remembered, wasn't a young woman, but neither was she old. Sister Mary was about 40, with a hard and lean body underneath her nun's habit. The nun had a violently lovely face – angular, with smooth creamy skin. Sister Mary's eyes were icy blue and nearly clear.
When the nun found out that Heather had laid out of school for a week, she sent a note to Heather's parents threatening expulsion. Heather had managed to intercept the note. When she read the contents, Heather was horrified. She had already failed a year of high school and at 19 was the oldest girl in summer school. Heather needed those classes to get into college. So she pleaded with Sister Mary not to be expelled. Heather had promised the nun that she would do anything to stay in school.
And when Heather made that promise, Sister Mary responded with a second note, delivered during her classes. That note carried the promise of punishment. Heather remembered part of the note so clearly:
If you would like to remain in school, you will report to my office this Saturday at 7 a.m. I will punish you at that time, applying the same punishment that I would to any other student in this school. Be prompt, and wear your uniform.
For a week, Heather wondered what the nun meant by “the same punishment that I would to any other student in this school.” Those words were especially ominous, as the Heather knew that boys in the school were punished with a cane.
“She can't mean the cane,” her friend and lover, Misty had said at the time. The words were meant to reassure Heather. But the breast to breast hug that they shared in the hallway as Misty tried to comfort her friend was more about their afternoon dalliances with one another than true comfort. “That's a boy's punishment,” Misty had said.
But Misty had been wrong – so very wrong. When Heather had arrived for her punishment at the appointed time, Sister Mary had stripped down to a form-fitting, black body stocking to give her a freer movement than the nun's heavy black and white habit allowed. Then the nun had sent Heather to select her own cane from the cabinet and then bend over a straight backed chair. From that point on, Heather was blurry on the details, but remembered that she had been caned on her bare backside. She remembered the whistle of the cane as Sister Mary had drawn it back, and then the sharp crack as the cane came into contact with her buttocks. Heather had to count each stroke, and she remembered at least six of them, laid in like stripes across her smooth ass.
She also remembered that after the caning, the nun's fingers found their way into Heather's pussy. Sister Mary's thumb had twiddled with her clitoris, asshe jammed two more fingers deep inside of her. The pain in her ass combined with the shivers that the nun's fingers caused had sent Heather into a near delirium of lust.
But most of all, Heather remembered the nun's final words. Sister Mary knew that Heather and Misty were lovers, though that wasn't what bothered the nun. It was where the girls expressed their affection for one another that disturbed Sister Mary. School, as far as the nun was concerned, was sacred. Students were not allowed to let their hormones run wild and paw one another in the hallways. Heather and Misty had broken that rule, and Sister Mary was aware of their lustful lunchtime games.
“About this girlfriend of yours,” Sister Mary had said on Saturday, as she worked her fingers inside Heather's pussy. Heather remembered spreading her legs wider to give the nun easy access. “When we're finished here,” the nun had said. “You will go to Misty's house and tell her that I want to see her in my office next Saturday at 7 a.m.”
Heather remembered the rush of orgasm that had smashed full into her body as she thought of Misty – her friend and lover – naked and bent over, awaiting the cane.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Heather's Caning and Humiliation
Read Alan Rovel's Review of "Heather's Caning and Humiliation!"
I finished Heather's Caning and Humiliation, and let me tell you, this is a hot one. By now you've guessed that I grew up a Catholic girl and that spankings figured highly into my childhood. If you haven't figured that out, I'll say it plain: Sister Mary is based on a nun out of my youth. Most of what you read actually happened. Sure, I've changed the names, the places and a couple of the instances to hide the innocent (mainly me!) - but most of it happened. I got my ass beat more than once by that nun, and I know that she liked it. We found out later that Sister Mary was a lesbian, and she loved us girls - couldn't keep her hands off of us!
Anyway. Heather's Caning and Humiliation is available at Smashwords and Kindle, and Nook. Maybe a day or so. I guarantee, when you read this story, it will get a rise out of you!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Review of The Dominatrix and The Cheerleader!
Check out this review of The Dominatrix and The Cheerleader by Alan Rovel. He's giving it Five Stars! (I'm so excited!)
The ebook is available at Smashwords, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
Naughty, fun and totally delightful!
The ebook is available at Smashwords, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
Naughty, fun and totally delightful!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
I Love a Woman's Ass
http://www.bentalice.com
As woman's ass is soft and smooth. I love rub her ass before I let go with a good spanking. Touching. Rubbing. Grazing the cheeks gently with my palms and fingertips.
Damnit. I'm getting hot again.
Monday, July 11, 2011
A woman's ass is perfect
http://www.bentalice.com
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The Perfect Ass
http://www.bentalice.com
I love a woman with a beautiful butt - two perfect cheeks, round and firm, yet yielding to the touch. Rubbing my hand across her buttocks, just to get her used to the feeling of my hand - I lightly begin to spank. Her ass cheeks quiver, and she clutches the headboard. I know her the look on her face is somewhere between between fright and love. She wants me to spank her, yet I see the fear in her eyes of the sting of my hand striking her smooth buttocks.
I do so love spanking the perfect ass.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Heather's Caning and Humiliation
I've started a new story about Sister Mary and the way she punishes wayward girls - Heather's Caning and Humiliation. The work is hot, and I find myself constantly squeezing my legs together. I so want to be Sister Mary! For those of you who are wondering, yes: this is a story from my past. I've changed some names and places, but the story really happened.
For those of you who can't wait for me to finish this story, read "Spanking Clarice," another story about Sister Mary.
This is as far as I've gotten today. I have to go to work. But more to cum later!
Heather's Caning and Humiliation
Heather's day started out beautifully. Both of her parents had jobs that required them to leave early in the morning – so early that the sun had yet to peek over the horizon. Indeed, it was also so early that Heather was allowed to remain in bed and make her own breakfast, as well as find her own way to school.
That morning, Heather snuggled deeper under her bed covers as she had for the past several days, with every intention of making herself a lovely breakfast and skipping school altogether. After all, Heather reasoned to anyone who would listen: she was 19 years old, far to mature to put up with the Catholic summer school that her parents had enrolled her in. She would get into college just fine without the classes, despite the few failing grades she that Heather received in high school.
Besides. Her parents would never know that Heather had skipped her classes. The nuns at St. Catherine's were too old to pay attention to which student attended classes and which ones laid out. And the priest in charge of the school was exceptionally dense and nearly blind.
Heather stretched luxuriously in her bed as sunlight flooded her room. Yes, the day had started out beautifully.
***
In the bathroom, Heather brushed out her long blond hair. It glimmered in the light that streamed through the window, and Heather smiled brightly into mirror as she stroked her long locks. It had been years since she had cut her hair , and it fell in naturally long curls that covered her shoulders in a blond wave.
Heather undressed and examined her body in the bathroom mirror. She had narrow shoulders and Heather's breasts were full and milky white – tan lines outlined each lovely globe. Her stomach was flat and firm but deeply tanned thanks to all of the time that Heather had taken off from school. The dark tan of the rest of her torso seemed highlight her nubile breasts, as though offering them up for inspection.
The rest of Heather's body was smooth, though a tan line likewise marked where her bikini bottom covered her sweet, pert ass and delicate pussy. Heather's small thatch of pubic hair was blond, like the hair on her head, though much curlier. Heather stroked herself, allowing the middle finger of her right hand to briefly slip into her pussy and smiled brightly into the mirror. She had the world by the tail; her parents were clueless about her real activities, and the school officials didn't care whether or not she showed up for class. Placing her hands on her slim hips, Heather thought to herself that it would be a beautiful summer.
* * *
While making a breakfast of sausage, eggs, melon and a glass of juice, Heather heard a rattling at the front door. “Mail's here,” she said to herself, while spearing a sausage link. “Odd, though. The postman's not normally here until mid afternoon.” Heather dismissed the early arrival of the post, and took a leisurely bite of the sausage. For a moment she imagined it a small penis slipping between her lips. Not that Heather would ever tolerate a boy with such a small dick, but it made her feel wicked to bite into the wiener and think of it as her boyfriend's cock. Heather relished the juices from the sausage squirting into her mouth, then put down her fork and skipped to the front door to retrieve the morning post. When she opened the post box there was only one letter there, and oddly enough, it wasn't stamped. Even without the proper postage, Heather saw that the letter was addressed to her parents and from her school. Frowning, Heather closed the front door and slit open the envelope with a well-manicured fingernail. Inside was the worst news possible.
“Shit!” Heather stared goggle-eyed at the letter, re-reading each word. Her face had gone pale under her lovely tan. “Shit, shit, shit!” Heather cried out, her hands shaking as she held the letter. “Oh, my God,” she said. “This can't be happening!” But no matter how many times Heather re-read the letter, the words didn't change.
The name of Sister Mary Ignatius was foreign to Heather. To her knowledge, there wasn't a nun at the school by that name. But the words were written on school letterhead, and it looked official. “Oh, damn!”
Heather crumpled the letter and dashed upstairs to her bedroom. It was Monday, and the school period hadn't yet ended. Maybe if she attended class today – and every other day – the school wouldn't expel her. “Oh, shit!” Heather murmured, yanking on her short plaid skirt. “I can't let this happen.” Heather slipped into fancy lace bra. She pulled the snaps around to the front, just under her firm breasts to fasten it, but her hands were shaking.
“Calm down,” she thought. “You can make this right. Calm down.” Heather's own words to herself worked. She was able to fasten the bra. Heather pulled the undergarment around her body, allowing each of her white breasts to settle into the cups. She snatched her white blouse from the end of the bed, put it on and buttoned it quickly. “Maybe if I just slip into class, no one will notice.” The thought was comforting. Heather was certain that she would be able to get into the school unnoticed and resume her studies. “No one has to know.” Heather crumpled the letter into a tight ball, threw into the trash can, and then rushed out her bedroom door. “This will work!” she said to herself. “I just go into the classroom and sit down like I've been there all day.” Heather dashed out the front door. It was only three blocks to Our Lady of Grief. She would have to sneak inside, but once in the school, no one could say that she hadn't been there all day.
***
Heather ran the three blocks to the school, her tanned legs a blur of motion. Her plaid skirt was short enough that the occasional passerby caught a quick flash of Heather's white cotton panties. But Heather couldn't worry about the possible free show that she was giving bystanders. Heather had to get into the school, and she had to do it both quickly and quietly. Heather dashed up the stairs and leaned against the imposing door of the Catholic church. She put an ear to the door and listened intently. Heather heard nothing on the other side of the door. Opening it carefully, Heather slipped inside the school.
“You must be Miss Heather Tory.” Heather startled at the voice and saw a woman shrouded in darkness and black robes standing in the shadows to the right of the door. “Do come in, Miss Tory.”
Heather stammered. “My alarm,” she said. “It didn't go off this morning. I am sorry to be late!”
The nun stepped from the shadows, and Heather gawked at the woman; this woman did not look like any nun Heather had ever seen.
“I am Sister Mary Ignatius,” the nun said. “And you are more than late. You have already missed more than a week of school.”
Heather opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was still stunned by the appearance of the nun. Though the robes covered nearly all of the nun's body, Heather could see that she was not one of the old women so typical of the order. Sister Mary was not a young woman, but closer to 40 years old. Her face was smooth and sharp, and the nun seemed to be violently beautiful. In the red light of the sun passing through the stained glass windows above the door, Sister Mary seemed glow.
“I-, I-,” Heather started. But the nun cut her off quickly.
“You have disrespected this school,” Sister Mary said. “You have disrespected the teachers. You have disrespected your parents. And now, you will be expelled.”
Tears started in Heather's eyes and streamed down her face. “Oh no, Sister. Please don't expel me. I just woke up late! I was coming to school!”
Sister Mary folded her hands as though in prayer and shook her head. “You skipped all of last week, and you would have skipped all of this week, were it not for the letter that I sent to your parents.”
...More to Cum!
Read "Spanking Clarice," another story about Sister Mary.
For those of you who can't wait for me to finish this story, read "Spanking Clarice," another story about Sister Mary.
This is as far as I've gotten today. I have to go to work. But more to cum later!
Heather's Caning and Humiliation
Heather's day started out beautifully. Both of her parents had jobs that required them to leave early in the morning – so early that the sun had yet to peek over the horizon. Indeed, it was also so early that Heather was allowed to remain in bed and make her own breakfast, as well as find her own way to school.
That morning, Heather snuggled deeper under her bed covers as she had for the past several days, with every intention of making herself a lovely breakfast and skipping school altogether. After all, Heather reasoned to anyone who would listen: she was 19 years old, far to mature to put up with the Catholic summer school that her parents had enrolled her in. She would get into college just fine without the classes, despite the few failing grades she that Heather received in high school.
Besides. Her parents would never know that Heather had skipped her classes. The nuns at St. Catherine's were too old to pay attention to which student attended classes and which ones laid out. And the priest in charge of the school was exceptionally dense and nearly blind.
Heather stretched luxuriously in her bed as sunlight flooded her room. Yes, the day had started out beautifully.
***
In the bathroom, Heather brushed out her long blond hair. It glimmered in the light that streamed through the window, and Heather smiled brightly into mirror as she stroked her long locks. It had been years since she had cut her hair , and it fell in naturally long curls that covered her shoulders in a blond wave.
Heather undressed and examined her body in the bathroom mirror. She had narrow shoulders and Heather's breasts were full and milky white – tan lines outlined each lovely globe. Her stomach was flat and firm but deeply tanned thanks to all of the time that Heather had taken off from school. The dark tan of the rest of her torso seemed highlight her nubile breasts, as though offering them up for inspection.
The rest of Heather's body was smooth, though a tan line likewise marked where her bikini bottom covered her sweet, pert ass and delicate pussy. Heather's small thatch of pubic hair was blond, like the hair on her head, though much curlier. Heather stroked herself, allowing the middle finger of her right hand to briefly slip into her pussy and smiled brightly into the mirror. She had the world by the tail; her parents were clueless about her real activities, and the school officials didn't care whether or not she showed up for class. Placing her hands on her slim hips, Heather thought to herself that it would be a beautiful summer.
* * *
While making a breakfast of sausage, eggs, melon and a glass of juice, Heather heard a rattling at the front door. “Mail's here,” she said to herself, while spearing a sausage link. “Odd, though. The postman's not normally here until mid afternoon.” Heather dismissed the early arrival of the post, and took a leisurely bite of the sausage. For a moment she imagined it a small penis slipping between her lips. Not that Heather would ever tolerate a boy with such a small dick, but it made her feel wicked to bite into the wiener and think of it as her boyfriend's cock. Heather relished the juices from the sausage squirting into her mouth, then put down her fork and skipped to the front door to retrieve the morning post. When she opened the post box there was only one letter there, and oddly enough, it wasn't stamped. Even without the proper postage, Heather saw that the letter was addressed to her parents and from her school. Frowning, Heather closed the front door and slit open the envelope with a well-manicured fingernail. Inside was the worst news possible.
From: Sister Mary Ignatius, Our Lady of Grief, Smithville Lane
To: The Parents of Heather Tory
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Tory
I am sorry to inform you that your daughter, Heather, has been absent from school these last five days, and is now seriously in jeopardy of failing her summer make-up classes. As we all know, these classes are required for Heather, if she expects to enroll into college of her choice this fall. It is also my understanding that Heather is frequently disruptive when she does come to class, breaching school rules at every opportunity.
I am sorry to inform you that if Heather does not attend her classes every day this week, we will be forced to expel her. She will not graduate, and she will likely not be able to attend college.
Feel free to contact me if you have any questions or concerns.
Yours,
Sister Mary Ignatius, Acting School Dean
“Shit!” Heather stared goggle-eyed at the letter, re-reading each word. Her face had gone pale under her lovely tan. “Shit, shit, shit!” Heather cried out, her hands shaking as she held the letter. “Oh, my God,” she said. “This can't be happening!” But no matter how many times Heather re-read the letter, the words didn't change.
Heather crumpled the letter and dashed upstairs to her bedroom. It was Monday, and the school period hadn't yet ended. Maybe if she attended class today – and every other day – the school wouldn't expel her. “Oh, shit!” Heather murmured, yanking on her short plaid skirt. “I can't let this happen.” Heather slipped into fancy lace bra. She pulled the snaps around to the front, just under her firm breasts to fasten it, but her hands were shaking.
“Calm down,” she thought. “You can make this right. Calm down.” Heather's own words to herself worked. She was able to fasten the bra. Heather pulled the undergarment around her body, allowing each of her white breasts to settle into the cups. She snatched her white blouse from the end of the bed, put it on and buttoned it quickly. “Maybe if I just slip into class, no one will notice.” The thought was comforting. Heather was certain that she would be able to get into the school unnoticed and resume her studies. “No one has to know.” Heather crumpled the letter into a tight ball, threw into the trash can, and then rushed out her bedroom door. “This will work!” she said to herself. “I just go into the classroom and sit down like I've been there all day.” Heather dashed out the front door. It was only three blocks to Our Lady of Grief. She would have to sneak inside, but once in the school, no one could say that she hadn't been there all day.
***
Heather ran the three blocks to the school, her tanned legs a blur of motion. Her plaid skirt was short enough that the occasional passerby caught a quick flash of Heather's white cotton panties. But Heather couldn't worry about the possible free show that she was giving bystanders. Heather had to get into the school, and she had to do it both quickly and quietly. Heather dashed up the stairs and leaned against the imposing door of the Catholic church. She put an ear to the door and listened intently. Heather heard nothing on the other side of the door. Opening it carefully, Heather slipped inside the school.
“You must be Miss Heather Tory.” Heather startled at the voice and saw a woman shrouded in darkness and black robes standing in the shadows to the right of the door. “Do come in, Miss Tory.”
Heather stammered. “My alarm,” she said. “It didn't go off this morning. I am sorry to be late!”
The nun stepped from the shadows, and Heather gawked at the woman; this woman did not look like any nun Heather had ever seen.
“I am Sister Mary Ignatius,” the nun said. “And you are more than late. You have already missed more than a week of school.”
Heather opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was still stunned by the appearance of the nun. Though the robes covered nearly all of the nun's body, Heather could see that she was not one of the old women so typical of the order. Sister Mary was not a young woman, but closer to 40 years old. Her face was smooth and sharp, and the nun seemed to be violently beautiful. In the red light of the sun passing through the stained glass windows above the door, Sister Mary seemed glow.
“I-, I-,” Heather started. But the nun cut her off quickly.
“You have disrespected this school,” Sister Mary said. “You have disrespected the teachers. You have disrespected your parents. And now, you will be expelled.”
Tears started in Heather's eyes and streamed down her face. “Oh no, Sister. Please don't expel me. I just woke up late! I was coming to school!”
Sister Mary folded her hands as though in prayer and shook her head. “You skipped all of last week, and you would have skipped all of this week, were it not for the letter that I sent to your parents.”
...More to Cum!
Read "Spanking Clarice," another story about Sister Mary.
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