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Nine filthy tales of Victorian lust, depravity and desire. Beneath the veneer of civility and etiquette, the raging passions of the Victorian age flow deep. Each story in this mega-bundle tells of a young woman dominated and despoiled, but ultimately embracing the dark side of her soul, and embracing her Sinful Discipline.~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~The memories of that terrible day are forever branded onto my mind. My father had summoned me to his study. I had expected him to give me a gift or some other pleasant surprise for my birthday. But as soon as I laid eyes on him, I knew something was amiss. He was ashen faced and evasive, unable to look me in the eyes. Then he told me the horrible truth."Sophia, you are to be married," he told me, his usually confident voice reduced to a guilty whisper. "It is all arranged."Naturally, I was taken aback. "Married? But to whom Papa? I do not have a fianc, nor have any gentlemen pressed their suit. Surely you are joking?" I could see plainly that he was not, but still nurtured a hope that he was simply playing some kind of cruel trick on me.He shook his head. "I would not joke about such a thing. Like I said, it is all arranged. The contract has been drawn up, the banns displayed. The wedding will take place one week from today."I gaped at him aghast, entirely lost for words. After a few moments I composed myself and managed to croak. "But to whom?"He looked me in the eyes, and I could tell from the pain and grief in his expression that his answer would not please me."Lord Morgan. Lord Sebastian Morgan."I felt dizzy; my head began to spin and I almost fainted. Surely this couldn't be true? Perhaps I was dreaming, and all of this was a nightmare? Any moment now I would awake and return to a more pleasant reality.But this was not a dream. I was very much awake, and this was very real."But Papa, how?" I cried in anguish. "I hardly know the man. We've never even been introduced. How can I marry a man who hasn't even proposed to me? How can I marry a man who I'm not in love with? A man with such a cruel and wicked reputation?"Mt father smiled bitterly, tears in his eyes."Love? I'm sorry to disappoint you Sophia, but not everyone can marry for love. Some marriages are born of practicality. Some of ambition. Love often does not enter into it at all."
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Victorian BDSM Mega-Bundle
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Anna Austin
Written by Anna Austin
Disciplined For Her Sins
(Disciplined For Her Sins - Part 1)
The orphanage was all that Annie had ever known.
Her parents had died in the Cholera epidemic of 1848 when Annie had been just two years old. Her relatives had not wanted another mouth to feed, so little Annie had been sent to the Bleakcroft Orphanage. She could not remember her parents at all, only the hard beds and strict discipline of her life as an orphan.
Bleakcroft was a dismal and forbidding place, the old building built in a Gothic style that was grand and imposing, but did little to cheer the hearts of its unfortunate inhabitants. It was cold and draughty, and even in the summer the dormitories in which the orphans laid their weary heads were not warm. In winter, it was almost unbearable, and the youngsters would gather around the fire in the great hall, rubbing their hands and huddling together for warmth. During the long winter nights, many of the orphans would climb into bed together, sharing their body heat under the thin covers. Of course, this was strictly forbidden, and woe betide any young girl or boy or was discovered under the covers of another orphan's bed.
Discipline at Bleakcroft was harsh. The adults who supervised the children – know as 'masters' and 'matrons' - were quick with their fists, and even the smallest of offences could be met with a swift box around the ears. For more serious crimes – swearing, or forgetting to make a bed – many of the masters and matrons would dish out punishment with the 'strap', a thin piece of leather that looked inoffensive, but which could inflict a great deal of pain when swung with accuracy and precision onto bare skin.
The worst punishments were dealt out by Bleakcroft's Headmaster, Dr Thorn. Thorn was tall and imposing, with jet black hair and eyes that missed nothing. Those who were summoned to his office for truly serious offences returned pale and weeping, clutching their buttocks and refusing to speak about what cruel fate had befallen them.
In her sixteen years at Bleakcroft. Annie had never been called before Dr Thorn. She had had her fair share of run-ins with the masters and matrons, and bore the bruises to prove it, but she had thankfully never seen the inside of Thorn's office. And now, with only 6 months until she would be able to leave the orphanage, she rather hoped she never would.
Orphans could leave Bleakcroft when they turned nineteen, and although many ran away before they reached that age, Annie intended to see her time out. After all, she had many friends amongst the orphans there, and she would be sad to bid them farewell. More than that though, she had no real prospects outside of the orphanage. No family to turn to, no employment to enter into, no place to live. And no potential husband either.
That would have been her preference – to find a rich man, marry him, and lead a life of comfort and ease far removed from existence she was used to. Rumour amongst the orphans had it that once, years ago, one of the rich benefactors who came to visit Bleakcroft from time to time had taken a liking to one of the orphan girls, and had spirited her away to become his wife. Whether the rumour was true or not, Annie desperately wanted to believe it. Whenever there was a visit from one of these benefactors, she tried to look her best, tying a ribbon in her hair, and wearing clothes that accentuated her full figure.
So far, nothing had come of it, but she still daydreamed about the day her saviour would arrive. He would be handsome, of course, and rich, and he would love Annie with an unbridled passion. He would take her away from Bleakcroft, and make her his wife.
Lately though, Annie's fantasies had started to go a little further. She would lie in bed at night, imagining the exact features of her Prince Charming. He would be tall, with jet black hair, and strong cheekbones. His eyes would be green, and when she looked into them they would sparkle with the passion that he felt for her. Thinking such thoughts had made Annie feel funny, a dull ache developing between her legs. When she had reached down and touched herself down there, she had been surprised to find that the crevice between her legs was slick and wet. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before, and she was not sure what it meant.
Then, one night, she had taken the fantasy further. Lying in bed, she had summoned up the mental image of her Prince Charming - but now she too featured in the daydream. She imagined him running his fingers through her long brown hair, gazing into her eyes, kissing her full lips. The ache started up again, and when Annie reached down she found that the wetness had returned. This time though, she kept her hand between her legs, sliding a finger between the lips of her cunny as she continued to picture her fantasy lover. Soon, she was sopping wet down there, her nerve endings tingling with pleasure as she dreamt of making love to the handsome stranger. She had never pleasured herself in this way before, but she wished she had. It felt divine, her fingers slipping back and forth, rubbing and teasing her moist slit.
Annie became aware that the small nub of flesh above her slit was tingling, and seemingly hardening as she touched herself. Curiously, she reached up and brushed her fingers against it. She gasped as a wave of sensation erupted between her legs, far more intense than what she had been feeling before. This seemed to be the sweet spot! Gently, she began to rub her fingers against her little bud, moaning involuntarily as the pleasure intensified. Soon, she was groaning loudly, her fingers busy upon her newly discovered clit, the images in her head becoming more and more sinful. Now her Prince was stripping her, laying her down on a four poster bed. Now he was kissing her, not on the mouth but on her full, firm breasts, his mouth encircling her nipple. Now it was his hand between her legs, his rough fingers slippery with her wetness, brushing against her clit and causing her to cry out with pleasure and desire...
So great was the pleasure as her climax overtook her that Annie barely noticed that she really was crying out as she came, her exultant cries echoing around the dormitory. But as the fire between her legs began to subside, she became dimly aware of footsteps approaching. Someone was coming!
She opened her eyes, just in time to see the ugly, cruel faces of Mrs Scabbins and Mrs Mungle staring down at her. Both were matrons at Bleakcroft, and a crueller, meaner, more small minded pair of women could surely not be found across the whole British Empire, never mind at Bleakcroft. With a triumphant shriek, Mrs Scabbins threw back the covers of the bed, exposing Annie to their searching gaze. With disgust on their faces, they took it all in – Annie's bare sex, the trembling hand still clamped between her legs, the damp patch on the bed.
“See! I told you Mrs Mungle” Mrs Scabbins hooted. “I told you a noise like that could only mean one thing! I told you someone was committing a terrible sin!”
“God knows, you were right Mr Scabbins” her counterpart replied piously. “And a most terrible sin at that.” Her tone changed, and she looked down at Annie, sneering. “What have you got to say for yourself, you wanton hussy?”
Anne pulled her nightgown down, trying to hide the wetness of her still raw and tingling slit from the two crones.
“I...” she began, but Mr Scabbins interrupted her.
“Don't you dare try and speak your weasel word to us, you slut! We know exactly what you were up to! We heard it, those sinful moans and whorish groans. Don't think you're the first little strumpet who's tried to commit a carnal sin on our watch!”
Annie was now sitting up in bed, hugging her knees as the two women berated her. She became aware that all around the dormitory, the other orphans were sitting up in their beds, silently spectating.
“You're right, you're right” Mrs Mungle continued. “She isn't the first, that's for sure. And we know just how to punish sinners in this establishment!”
For a moment, Annie felt relieved. The strap was painful, but she could cope with it.
Mrs Scabbins appeared to read her mind, or perhaps sensed her relief. Her sneer grew even more pronounced.
“Oho!” she snarled. “I think our little harlot here thinks she's going to get off with just a few lashes of the strap! Well, she's got a lot more to fear that just that, hasn't she Mrs Mungle?”
“That's right! That's right!” Mrs Mungle shrieked. “Dr Thorn will want to hear of this!”
The blood in Annie's veins froze. Dr Thorn! They were going to take her to see the Headmaster!
Mrs Scabbins leered viciously at her.
“Dr Thorn takes a special interest in girls who commit this kind of sin.” She seemed to be taking a kind of sick amusement from Annie's obvious fear.
For a moment, Annie's head was full of thoughts of flight. If she made a run for it, maybe she could scale the wall of the orphanage, and escape. Maybe if she got that far, her Prince Charming would be waiting for her. He would be astride a stallion, and he would lift her up alongside him, and gallop off into the sunset...
Her dreams of romantic escape were cruelly interrupted as Mrs Scabbins grabbed her wrist with a bony hand. Annie tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly strong, and she held on grimly. At the same time, Mrs Mungle grabbed hold of her shoulders. Between them, the two women roughly dragged Annie out of her bed.
“Come on lass! Don't try to struggle, or it'll be the worse for you” said Mrs Scabbins threateningly.
“Dr Thorn will want to see you immediately” added Mrs Mungle.
The two women frogmarched her out of the dormitory, Annie half walking, half stumbling between them. The took her through the great hall, and up the dark wooden stairs that led to the upper floors of Bleakcroft, which were usually out of bounds to the orphans. Soon, they were standing in front of the door of Dr Thorn's office. It was old oak, almost black with age, as bleak and forbidding as Dr Thorn himself. Through the crack at the bottom of the door, Annie could see that a light still burned inside, despite the lateness of the hour.
Mrs Scabbins rapped on the door with her spiky knuckles. There was a pause, and then a deep voice spoke from within.
Mrs Mungle opened the door, and the two women dragged her inside.
Annie had never been inside Dr Thorn's office, and could not help but look around curiously, despite her predicament. The room was large and gloomy, the walls lined with musty books and portraits of grim, unsmiling men, who she presumed must have been former Headmasters. The room was lit by oil lamps, and a fire burned low in the grate. At the back of the room was a huge wooden desk, and behind the desk sat Dr Thorn. He was writing, but after a few seconds he laid his pen down and looked up. His steely eyes took in the scene before him, and Annie could not help but avert her gaze as he looked her over.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his powerful voice booming across the room.
Annie noticed that the demeanour of the two women flanking her had changed completely. Their heads were bowed respectfully, and they seemed a touch frightened, as if even they were reluctant to set foot in Dr Thorn's office.
“It's this girl Sir” Mrs Scabbins replied. “We caught her committing a sin.”
Dr Thorn raised a eyebrow.
“A sin, you say? It must have been a very serious sin for you to bring her in front of me, especially given the lateness of the hour.”
“Yes Sir” Mrs Scabbins continued meekly. “She was in bed at the time. That's where she was committing the sin, if you catch my meaning.”
Dr Thorn's eyebrow rose even higher,
“Aha, I see. Well ladies, you were quite right to come to me about this. The type of sin that you are referring to must be punished most severely, and I will see to it myself. You may leave now. Leave the girl here.”
Mrs Scabbins and Mrs Mungle released Annie and hastily marched out of the room, slamming the door behind them.
As their footsteps receded, Dr Thorn stood and walked round to the front of his desk. He regarded Annie sternly.
“What is your name, girl?” he demanded.
Annie hesitated. She was acutely aware that she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a thin white night gown, with nothing at all underneath. Even worse, she had long outgrown this particular garment, and it was so short that it barely covered the tops of her thighs. Nervously, she tried to pull it downwards to provide her with more modesty, but this meant that her ample breasts began to spill out at the top. She compromised by pulling down the hem with one hand, whilst folding her other arm over her chest. Even so, she felt dreadfully exposed, almost as if she were naked in front of the intimidating Headmaster.
Dr Thorn watched her struggling to cover herself, and frowned.
“I asked you your name girl” he repeated, more forcefully this time. “Speak!”
“A-A-Annie” she managed to stammer. “Annie J-Jones.”
“Annie Jones. Hmm” Dr Thorn stood there, staring at her. Annie lowered her eyes and stood fidgeting. Why was he looking at her like that? And how did he intend to punish her? Dr Thorn's study was not cold, but she found herself shivering uncontrollably.
Finally, Dr Thorn broke the awkward silence.
“So Annie, is it true? Were you committing a sin while you lay a-bed?”
Annie considered lying. Perhaps she could claim that she had a nightmare, that the two matrons had woken her from it, that she had no idea why they were making such unjust, untruthful claims. But of course, it was no good. Dr Thorn would see straight through her. She never had been a very good liar.
She nodded miserably, and looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
“I see. And what precisely was the nature of your sin?”
Did he want her to describe it? Annie was not sure she could bear the humiliation.
“It – it was a very bad sin Sir. A mortal sin, perhaps.”
Dr Thorn tutted. “No, no, no. It is for me to judge the severity of your sin, not you. I want to hear the specifics. Tell me girl. Tell me precisely how you sinned.”
Annie realised she was blushing, her skin flushed a deep crimson red.
“I-I touched myself Sir.”
“Where did you touch yourself?”
Annie wordlessly indicated between her legs.
“Say it girl! I want to hear you say it!”
“M-my c-cunny Sir. I touched my cunny.”
Dr Thorn was pacing back and forth in front of her now. He appeared... agitated.
“And did you enjoy it, hmm?” he demanded. “Did you enjoy this sinful behaviour?”
Annie's skin turned an even deeper crimson, but she knew there was no point lying. She had reached the point of no return. Better to tell the whole truth, and then accept her punishment, whatever it may be.
“Yes Sir. I enjoyed it mightily. More than I've ever enjoyed anything before, perhaps.”
Dr Thorn stopped pacing, and fixed her with another stare.
“And tell me Annie. What were you thinking about, eh? What was going through your pretty little head whilst you were committing this oh-so enjoyable sin?”
“A man, Sir” Annie replied. “I was imagining a man.”
“A man, eh? And what did he look like this... man?”
Annie was confused. Where was he going with this line of questioning? Why were the details so important to him?
“Well” she replied, hesitating slightly as she conjured the comforting image of her Prince Charming into her head. “He was tall. With dark hair – thick dark hair. Handsome too, with high cheekbones and....”
She stopped, suddenly horrified as realisation hit her. Her Prince Charming - the gallant rescuer of her sincerest fantasies, the central figure of her deepest desires – he looked rather a lot like Dr Thorn!
Annie looked up, and stole a glance at the Headmaster, who seemed lost in thought, not even noticing her sudden pause. It was true! She had never really thought about it before, but Dr Thorn was rather handsome, in a craggy severe way. And he bore more than a passing resemblance to Prince Charming, with his thick black hair and prominent cheekbones. She realised as well that the Headmaster was not as old as she has previously assumed, in his mid-thirties at most. It was his air of authority and command that had made her assume he was older than he was, Annie realised. In fact, he was a good looking man in the prime of his life.
Could it be true? Had her subconscious mind, in searching for a fantasy figure, in fact summoned up Dr Thorn? If so, what did that mean? Did she want him to be her Prince Charming, her bold rescuer? If so, her mind had played a cruel trick on her. He was about to be her punisher, not her saviour.
Dr Thorn looked at her again, whatever thought process he had been undertaking complete.
“Well Annie” he said decisively. “You have at least had the courage to admit your sins to me. But carnal sins cannot go unpunished, and it falls to me as your Headmaster to carry out your chastisement.”
Annie was trembling again. What fate was about to befall her?
“Approach my desk and stand before it” he commanded. Miserably, still trying to cover herself with her flimsy nightgown, Annie shuffled forwards, until she was standing before the huge desk.
“Now, put your hands on the desk.”
Annie did as she was instructed. The varnished wood of the desk felt cold and hard beneath her palms.
“Now” Dr Thorn continued. “Keep your hands on the desk, but bend over. As far as you can.”
Annie did not immediately obey. She was horribly aware that if she bent over, the too-short night gown would ride up, leaving her backside totally exposed. Surely Dr Thorn did not expect her the bare her bottom to him?
“But Sir!” she protested “If I do that I won't be able to cover my... you'll be able to to see my...”
“I am fully aware of this girl” Dr Thorn interrupted. “After all, what is the point of a spanking if the blows do not fall on bare flesh? Now do as I say, and bend over.”
His tone brooked no refusal.
Reluctantly, Annie bent over. At least she knew what to expect now. He was going to give her a spanking.
As she had feared, when she bent over, her nightgown rode up over her backside. Her bottom was completely exposed and uncovered, ripe for whatever punishment Dr Thorn saw fit to inflict on it. Even worse, she was aware that because of the way she was bending over, the lips of her cunny were also on display, her sex exposed to a man for the first time in her life. She felt embarrassed, but was aware as well that the dull ache between her legs had returned. The sensation was faint, but certainly not a figment of her imagination. Perhaps the matrons were right – maybe she was a wanton hussy, the sort of shameless sinner who actually became aroused by baring her sex to a strange man. Maybe she truly deserved the punishment that she was about to receive.
She stole a glance behind her. Dr Thorn was looking at her intently. He had rolled up his sleeves, but Annie was relieved to see that was holding no implement of punishment, no cane or strap. Perhaps he intended to spank her using his hands? His hands were big and rough looking, and Annie could not help but wonder what it would feel like if he used them to spank her bare bottom.
Dr Thorn caught her looking at him.
“Face forward girl, face forward.”
Annie did as she was told.
She could no longer see behind her, but she heard him approach. He paused for a moment, and Annie thought she could almost feel his gaze on her as he took in her bare behind. The skin on her cheeks prickled in anticipation. What was waiting for?
Pain exploded across Annie's arse as the Headmaster's huge hand dealt it a glancing blow. Annie let out a small whimper, more from the suddenness and surprise at the sudden contact than at the pain itself. It did hurt though, and Annie could already feel a dull glow spreading across her bottom as the skin turned red.
He caught her again, and this time Annie cried out louder as the blow fell on skin already smarting from Dr Thorn's first attempt. Oh God, how many of these would she have to take? She already felt like she wouldn't be able to sit down for a week!
Another slap across her bare bottom, harder this time. Tears were now streaming down Annie's cheeks as her backside glowed with intense pain. Part of her wanted her ordeal to be over, for Dr Thorn to relent, to tell her she had taken her punishment, and that she was free to go.
Annie realised that mixed in with the pain, there was certain frisson of something else. What exactly? Pleasure? Was she really deriving pleasure from having her backside beaten? Or was it a different kind of pleasure, the type of excitement that comes from being dominated by a powerful, commanding man? Could it be that she wanted Dr Thorn to spank her, to demonstrate his control over her, to put her in her place?
Another blow landed, and despite the fresh tendrils of agony spreading across her backside, this time Annie welcomed the pain, embracing it, letting it become part of her. After all, they were not so dissimilar were they, pleasure and pain? The same heat, the same tingling of the skin and nerves, the same breathlessness. Even a scream might be of pleasure or pain. Or perhaps even of both.
This time, when she cried out, she could not tell whether it was a moan of agony or ecstasy. The wetness between her legs had spread, and she could feel the slickness down there, feel the moisture beading on her smooth skin. She wondered whether Dr Thorn had noticed it.
There was a pause, and no further blows fell. Annie was still facing forward as she bent down, hands planted firmly on the table. But she could hear Dr Thorn behind her, hear the heaviness of his breathing caused by his exertions. After a few more seconds to catch his breath, he addressed her.
“Have you had enough girl?” Do you want me stop?”
Annie did not answer immediately? Did she want him to stop? She wasn't so sure that she did.
“Answer me!” he demanded, his breath still slightly ragged. “Have you had enough?”
“No,” Annie answered.
She could hear the surprise in his voice.
“No? You want – you want more?”
“Yes Sir” she replied. “Please, Sir, spank me some more.”
This time, Dr Thorn roared his response, anger but also confusion in his voice.
“What! You wanton whore! I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!”
This time, Dr Thorn had not held back. The blow that landed on her buttocks had the force of a steam engine. Annie screamed as her bare bottom exploded in agony. But still, that excitement was there, the line between pleasure and pain now completely blurred. She could feel the fire between her legs growing, matching even the inferno of pain that had been inflicted on her backside. The sensation between her legs was pure pleasure though, the contrast with the pain only adding to its intensity.
Another hard, well aimed blow landed on her backside. This time Annie cried out in exaltation. The pain was now being dwarfed by the pleasure between her legs. One more blow, she knew, would send her over the edge.
Annie's orgasm exploded through her, pleasure and pain mixing into one glorious climatic whole. She was crying out again and again, could not stop herself as intense bliss engulfed her. The feeling was amazing, far more intense than earlier in the evening. The rough hands of Dr Thorn were a far more effective instrument of pleasure than her own fingers.
Slowly, the fog of bliss lifted. She was aware that she was no longer bending over the table, but had collapsed onto her knees, her muscles having been no match for the intensity of her climax. Suddenly, rough hands lifted her to her feet, and Dr Thorn breathed into her ear.
“Whore! I am not done with you yet!”
He set her back in place, hands on the table, bent over. Annie struggled to remain standing - her legs were still like jelly.
She was aware of Dr Thorn fumbling with his clothes behind her, and she heard the sound of a belt being undone. Did he intend to take his belt to her throbbing backside?
“Slut!” Dr Thorn grunted, a cold fury in his voice. “If you are so much a sinner that you derive twisted pleasure from a spanking, them I will find another way to punish you.”
Anne heard a clunk as his belt fell to the floor next to her, Confused, she craned her head around to see what the Headmaster was doing.
She came face to face with Dr Thorn's cock.
He was naked from the waist down, his manhood jutting out toward Annie like a spear. She gasped, shocked at the size of it. Of course, she was aware that men were different down there, that they had cocks, not cunnys. She even knew vaguely the details of what happened when a man and a woman joined together in union – the orphans had not been told anything as part of their formal education, but of course they talked amongst themselves.
She just hadn't expected it to be so big, long and thick with a red end that seemed to shine in the lamplight of the room. Seeing it stirred something in Annie, something deep and primal. She should have been afraid, but instead, it just excited her even more. She realised that she wanted Dr Thorn inside of her, for him to make her into a woman.
Dr Thorn saw her looking, and grabbed hold of her hair, roughly forcing her to face forward.
“I'll show you, you hussy!” he snarled. “Lets see how you like this punishment.”
He bent her further over the table, and without warning, thrust his hard member inside of her.
Annie's cunny was still slick and wet from the spanking, which was just as well, because she could feel the walls of her entrance stretching as they struggled to accommodate the Headmaster's massive girth. He thrust forward again, and now Annie felt something tear inside of her, felt a sharp pain as her maidenhead gave way. But the pain was only fleeting. Dr Thorn thrust again, and as his member sank even deeper into her uncharted depths, Annie could not help but cry out, not in pain, but in pleasure. Did he really intend this as punishment? It felt divine, his huge cock stretching her tight cunny, re-igniting the fire between her legs. She already felt half-way towards another explosive climax.
He was thrusting in and out of her now, each pump of his hips driving his manhood deeper inside of her. She felt so full down there – she was barely able to believe that something so big could fit inside of her, or that it felt so good. She was groaning again, unable to stop herself, giving a little yelp of pleasure each time Dr Thorn rammed himself into her.
From his grunt and sighs, she thought he was enjoying it to, despite his anger at her. Without breaking his stroke, he reached around her with one hand, roughly grabbing her left breast, digging into her firm flesh. His fingers sought her erect nipple, and he squeezed it, sending a new wave of pain arcing through her. At he same time, he laced his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back sharply as he continued to pound her from behind. Annie welcomed the pain though – she was beginning to realise that pain simply heightened the pleasure that she felt, added a delicious and dangerous edge to it.
The fire between her legs was reaching a new level of intensity, and this time she recognised the signs, knew she was close to climax. She began to buck her hips backwards, pushing into the headmasters thrusts, craving his cock as deep inside of her as possible. He was pounding her even faster now, still clinging to her hair and breasts, dominating her completely. Finally, he gave a tremendous thrust, his manhood cleaving so deeply into her wet cunny that Annie felt she might be split in two. She cried out as her orgasm overtook her, her fingernails digging into the hard oak of the table, the pressure enough to scratch the varnished surface.
Dr Thorn, pulled out of her, and she gasped as she felt his length slip out from between her legs. He grabbed her and spun her round, forcing her to kneel in front of him.
“Open your mouth harlot” he demanded aggressively. “Open your mouth and taste my retribution!”
Annie opened her mouth, and before she knew what was happening, the Headmaster roughly shoved his cock inside of it, sliding it along her tongue, the tip grazing the back of her throat. Annie almost choked, more out of sheer surprise at this sudden turn of events than at the sensation of suddenly having a mouthful of Dr Thorn's manhood. It tasted strange, a saltiness, but also a sweetness. She realised suddenly that she was tasting her own juices, that his cock was coated in them. Strangely, this excited Annie, to think that the taste of her was mingling with the taste of him. Overcoming her initial shock, she started to suck on him, rolling her tongue around the tip of his helmet, bobbing her head up a down so that his shaft was sliding in and out of her mouth.
Dr Thorn groaned, and Annie looked up, still sucking on his cock as he did so. The Headmaster was staring down at her, but the anger had gone from his expression, replaced by a look of lust and desire. Annie did not look away, but maintained eye contact with him, gazing into his piercing green eyes as she continued to pleasure him. Still looking into his eyes, she grasped the thick root of his shaft with her hand and began to stroke it, even reaching down occasionally to cup his balls. Dr Thorn was clearly nearing a kind of peak himself – he was groaning loudly, beads of perspiration forming on his brow. Annie redoubled her efforts, taking as much of his huge member into her mouth as possible, all the while lashing at his helmet with her tongue. She wanted to bring him to edge of ecstasy, for him to experience the same kind of pleasure that he had given her.
Finally, Dr Thorn cried out, thrusting his hips forward, his cock twitching and juddering in her mouth. Suddenly, Annie could feel hot, salty liquid spurting into her mouth, coating her tongue and throat. She gagged for moment, but then recovered and swallowed it down. It kept coming though, the Headmaster throwing his head back as he abandoned himself to bliss, pumping his spunk into Annie's eager mouth. She kept gulping it down, until finally the flood subsided, the last drops of his manly essence leaking, rather that spurting into her mouth. Annie sucked him clean, her busy tongue licking up every last drop from his sensitive helmet. Dr Thorn groaned once more, and then drew back, withdrawing his throbbing cock from Annie's mouth.
There was a moments silence. Annie was still kneeling on the floor, her skin flushed, her private parts tender, her taste buds fizzing with the taste of the Headmaster's cum. Thorn stood before her, eyes closed, panting, his manhood still jutting out in front of him like a weapon. Finally, he opened his eyes, and looked Annie with an expression that was difficult to read.
“Stand up child, and cover yourself.”
Annie did as she was told, rising to her feet, and re-arranging her skimpy nightgown as best she could to cover her nakedness. Thorn too retrieved his trousers, buckling them back up so that he was fully clothed, looking away from Annie as he did so. Finally, he addressed her, not meeting her eyes, but gazing at a point somewhere behind her.
“You are dismissed – for now. I need to consider how best to proceed with your punishment. It is clear to me that you have not yet learned your lesson, and that further... discipline may be required. You may go.”
He turned away from her, still refusing to look at her. Annie hesitated, and considered saying something. But what? That she wanted him to discipline her again? That she wanted his to spank her, to fuck her, to cum in her? That she wanted to play the harlot for him, to be his dirty little whore?
Her courage failed her. She tiptoed out of his office, shutting the door behind her. As she made her way back down to the dormitory, she realised that her face was tear stained, and that she was clutching her bruised bottom. She looked like any other orphan who had received the Headmaster's punishment.
Disciplined For His Pleasure
(Disciplined For Her Sins - Part 2)
Three weeks had passed since Annie had been disciplined by Dr Thorn.
The events of that night were still vivid in her memory. She had been caught sinning by the matrons, carried away by fitful fantasies of her perfect Prince Charming. They had found her, hand clamped between her legs, covers damp, exhausted from the intensity of her first ever orgasm.
Such behaviour could not be left unpunished at Bleakcroft, the dark and dismal orphanage that had been Annie's home since the age of two. The matrons had dragged her out of bed, and marched her off to see Dr Thorn, the strict disciplinarian who ran the orphanage.
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