Story from Swish Vol.4 No.4
From series "The St. Miriam's Letters"
St. Miriam's has closed its doors for the summer hols, but others are opening to receive the girls again after their first or second term for over-18's. And slightly-shy Sally's staying with her Aunt Linda for a week....
Just had to drop you a line to let you know what's been going on. As you know, I collected Sally from St. Miriam's and brought her back here since her nearest and dearest – other than me! – aren't expected back from Libya until the end of the week.
What a darling she really is. The 'establishment' has certainly knocked a lot of the shyness out of her, but then at those fees it ought to! You never told me what a lovely place it is. From the outside it reminds me of those old magazines we used to read about girls' boarding schools – all ivy-clad walls and latticed bow windows – gorgeous! But the reception area, which is all I saw of course, is very super and contemporary.
Sally says it's bits of both right inside. The dorms are quite 'cottagy' and pretty, but the gym and the dining hall are very swish. Of course I had to know about old Westward's study – with his reputation! Again, it's an inbetwecn as far as interior decoration goes, but I suspect some very interesting bottom-warming goes on in there, especially on that black leather couch of his. Sally hasn't been 'privileged' to a visit to the head's study. He did give her a preliminary spanking, though, in her dorm and (suitably!) on her own.
Apparently it was a medium one since he had her 'shyness' report, but I'd have given a lot to have seen her face when those tight little panties of hers came down. Delicious botty she's got and they've schooled her a bit to the cane. That took some getting out of her, but after the second evening here it wasn't so difficult. I knew that if we left it for too long she'd be harder to get, so it was a case of grab and strap.
Me, I grabbed her. Or rather I tried to lead her gently to the sofa – the one between our two windows that look out on to the garden. We'd had a nice dinner – a touch of candlelight was just right, I thought – and I knew she'd be fit for it. She did start to struggle a bit – girlish yelps and all that – when I sat back on the sofa, taking her with me so that I had her head under my arm. "Aunty, DON'T!" was the cry! Well – I expected that, but she didn't have much option because Bob upped her skirt in a flash and got her panties down.
I'd put the strap ready under the cushion of one of the chairs – the old trick for a bit of impromptu home training (and don't you and I know it, too!) What a screech she gave! I had a job to hold her, but Bob knows his stuff and got the first stroke of the leather in across her lovely white bottom with a very loud crack. From Sally of course there was a real "WHAAAAA!" and then Bob streaked another across her cheeks from the opposite direction.
Well – it didn't stop her hips from jiving, but it did stop her from trying to get her shoulders out from under my arm. I signalled Bob at that and he stopped in mid-swing! "A sixer, Sally," I told her, "that's all you're going to get – so no silly fuss. You know they said you're to continue weekly discipline during the hols, and I'm sure you don't want a note going to Mr. Westward, do you? All right, darling," I told Bob then.
Oh the sweet dear, she gave a sort of muted howl and moan all mixed up (but I expect we sounded like that at eighteen) while he snarled the next one in. You know Bob's good at it now (aha!) and he used just the right length of leather to keep it under control. She did blubber more than I expected – but that was mainly the idea of having her knicks down to her ankles in rather more homely circumstances than St. Miriam's. Which is the very thing she has to get used to now. So CRA-AAAACK! the strap went again – and of course Bob had the best view.
Blue's the right shade for her colour and the dress she had on was a mid-blue with tiny white spots and a white, lace-worked hem. Her panties matched. The skirt of her dress was flared and made a nice loop around her waist. Her nylons were seamed and I think Bob got a cockstand even before he'd ripped her knicks down.
By the time he was giving her the fifth I was doing a little quick fumbling with the buttons of her dress in the front down to her waist and slipped my hand in. Lovely globes, all silky and warm. Nipples nice and perky. I passed the ball of my thumb over them – and that made her wriggle more! (What ARE you doing with your other hand, Val?). It was all pant and go and slap-crack then, but I didn't let Bob go past the six mark. After all, it was only a tone-up! Then we got her in a quick hustle on the sofa under me and I don't think she knew what was happening for a moment. I was half kneeling up and kissing her flushed face while Bob was pressing her legs around my waist and working my skirt up at the same time. Yes, you're right – I'd left my knicks off ready for this.
Whether she really knew what we were doing I don't know. We were both ready for it as we'll ever be and Bob sheathed it in me right up to his balls while I was 'comforting' her and kissing the corners of her mouth. She couldn't unwind her legs from my waist, of course, because Bob was leaning over me and on them! He had a nice feel of her, too, underneath. I could tell that by her gaspings into my mouth and the way her calves tightened around me. Well, poor Bob (or not!) he didn't last long – not with all the excitement and his fingers touching up her gluey slot.
I will say, she didn't fight against my tongue – in fact she twirled her own quite a bit in my mouth – and by then I was being flooded, gush-gush and fondling her tits at the same time. She was making lovely noises under me, you bet, but then Bob's hose dribbled out its last and after a lot of hot pulsings, with me clenching on his cock with my dripping pussy, he very discreetly eased out and away! Well – he wouldn't have done if I hadn't told him the score in advance, but by the time that Sally could see from under me he was well out of the room.
I didn't say much – just slithered down and lay on her for a while, having a very erotic cuddle, with our thighs, tummies and pussies pressed together. She panted a bit and clutched me. I knew she'd come over his fingers and was in quite a daze. So after a nice warm, cuddly interval I just whispered "Beddybyes" to her and got her up the short flight of stairs to her room. "Darling, that was lovely – thanks," I said to her simply and left her flopping down on her bed. Well – it was the best way, and I know you'd have done the same. "It turns it around nicely," as you once told me.
Come morning I was up before her, hustled Bob off and went in with a cup of tea. She looked lovely and warm and tousled. "Sleep all right, darling?" I asked her all cheerily and, before she could answer, sat on the edge of the bed and chatted away ten to the dozen about everything except what had happened. Worked like a charm! I know you told me you did the same thing with Theresa. Bustle them about until they almost think they've dreamed it. Then..... choose your moment..... back to the stern stuff.
Well, I didn't bring it up until after lunch. By then we'd been into town and bought a few nice things. I bought her one of those thin gold necklets she likes and told her it was from her Uncle Bob. She didn't know where to look, but she put it on all right! Going back in the car I said to her suddenly, "You were a good girl last night, Sally. Keep it up." She went bright pink, but I pretended not to notice. "We all get it," I told her. That made her sit up. "Oh!" she said in a quick voice. I told her, "Yes, really we do. It's all very clannish you know, the St. Miriam's thing. I know I had to grab you a bit last night, but that was only your first. I'll be next, so don't worry!" Of course she didn't believe me, or I could see she was sort of fighting to believe me. But it had all been well arranged, like at the end of Theresa's first term – and I suppose it will be the same with Fleur Notts-Harding (really dishy, that one!), though Sally tells me she's very sophisticated and with it.
Anyway, didn't let her down. Waited until after dinner again that evening – the psychological hour! – and then pretended to play up with Bob. Sally was all silly and nervous, I could see, but we played it out so well that she couldn't very well run upstairs, as she clearly wanted to. Or at first, anyway. Apart from which, Bob pointedly closed the door to the hall and the door from the dining room, so there were the three of us back in the lounge. "You've asked for this," he said to me. Well – it was miles better than 'Crossroads', and certainly sexier! It was then that Sally started edging to the door, but Bob sort of barked at her, "No, Sally, stay here!" Down into a chair she went, facing the sofa, and probably had her thumb in her mouth for all I know.
WHOOO! Bob gave it to me all right, the sod – knicks taken right off. It had to look good. Then my skirt – me doing my little bit of protesting, but letting it die away nicely and being all obedient. "Proper posture, Linda!" he barked, and I shuffled my high heels apart, giving Sally a gorgeous view, because the chair she was sitting in is pretty low and she was virtually looking right up between, as it were. Don't want to boast, but it's a nice view!
Bob kept well to one side so that her view wasn't impeded – and then I got my sixer, crack-splat. I gave a couple of soft yelps, but kept it all muted. Playing the stern master of the house, Bob didn't actually look round at her but got a good sly peep at her open mouth and flushed cheeks. "Noo-noo-nooo-NOOOOO!" I babbled into a clutched cushion. I gyrated my bottom perfectly, Bob said afterwards, bending my stockinged knees just right to push my bottom out and getting my legs a good two feet apart by the time the fourth and fifth were sizzling in.
"But you see, dear, I didn't scream or howl loudly, and you have to remember that," I told her afterwards, "It isn't a question of being brave, pet, but discreet." She listened open-mouthed to that, too, but I could see she was learning. Bob hadn't spared her the sight of his cock that time. It was rampant and nosing out of his half pulled-down zip when he drew me up after the sixer, keeping a firm grip on my wrist, and said, "Come on – on the bed with you now." Well, of course, she didn't follow us up, but we left the door open upstairs and she certainly got the whole dialogue and all the luscious sounds that went with it!
"You want it now, don't you!" she must have heard Bob grunt, and then me doing my whimpering bit and saying, "You know I do. Oh, get it in me, darling, it's always the best time – so fantastic after the strap, oooh my poor botty, oh, you are naughty! Yes, yes, even if I weren't your wife I'd give it to you now, you know I would" ......and so on! Half an hour later – we deliberately made it last – I went into her. It was dark by then and she was lying in bed. I had a pretty, filmy nightie on. I bent over and kissed her nose and did a quick slide down beside her. It was nice and tight in the single bed.
"Oh, it does sting, doesn't it, and my poor botty's so hot still – feel it," I said. There was no way she couldn't have been feeling sexy by then and so I eased the sheet and blanket down with my feet, put her hand on my bared bottom and cuddled into her. Pretty sneaky I had to be, but it didn't take long. "Oh, darling, you just have to have it afterwards," I sort of sobbed and rolled my hot silky bottom around on her palm. That did it. In a minute I was fingering her pussy – a misty bunch of curls on a lovely plump mound with my fingertips feeling the silky skin beneath and the sweet little purse of her quim.
She began to bubble away and we began to tongue one another while I did most of the whispering. Her fingers got quite enquiring, I can tell you, and ended up in all the right places! Her mouth was open and moist and her hips were jerking. "Did you come?" I asked her. It was all in the open then. She knew that I was talking about her listening to us in the bedroom. "Yes," she breathed. Her derriere wriggled all over the sheet as I played with her clitty. "You have to have it afterwards – you know that, don't you," I told her. Lost in a world of our own, it didn't matter what I said, but I had to get that in. "Mmmmm!" she hummed. Her bottom lifted, legs wide open, and she sprinkled my fingers with her salty dew. Almost a full conversion, I thought.
I left her sleepy and dreamy, with her nightie off and looking as sweet a bundle of curves as you'll ever see. Bob was flaked out in our room, but I'd told him to keep out of the way. I gave her two more days without saying anything and Bob kept out of the way by doing his handyman act in the shed most of the time. "A sixer for you tonight, pet – got to keep you up to it – you'll be off tomorrow," I told her. She didn't say anything – just took a slightly deeper drag on her ciggy and felt for her wine glass! But I waited till bedtime. I think she sensed it was me who was going to give it to her.
Her babydoll nightie doesn't cover much anyway. "Take it off now," I told her firmly after I'd given her two, with her kneeling on her bed. She obeyed me, all flushed and squirmy. Bob waited outside in his pyjamas – though she didn't know that. At the count of five he stepped quietly in, half knelt on the bed just in front of her and drew her face down to his exposed cock. For a moment she made to jerk her mouth away, but I gave her a sharp 'number five and a half', as I told her it was. Bob pressed her tight, soft lips down around his big cock gently. Then her bottom reared to the sixth and another two meaty inches of prick oozed into her mouth.
I gave her hot botty little smacks with my hand then until she had sucked him off. Then I rolled her into bed and Bob switched the light off and departed. Round one! Oh heavens – look at the time. Write soon!
Love, LINDA x x x x x