A Month With Mr. Martin (A Sequel to The Headmaster's Schoolgirl Wife)

Nicely Settled

Charles Martin walked behind the bound, crying heiress, where she lay bent over the side of the couch receiving her customary method of instruction.  "That’s you nicely warmed up, isn’t it?  Now, let's hear you explain how your behavior around here will improve.  I'll not stop until you've convinced me you're genuinely reformed."  He continued her educational process as he spoke.

This being a common routine at the Martin estate, his student knew by now how to respond properly, but the recitation was still terribly humiliating.  “Ow! I’ll be good sir!  Ow! A proper housemaid, ow! obedient and ow! respectful!”  Her wet cheeks burned as she answered, knowing and dreading that more intimate details of her behavior would likely be expected, but hoping he would leave off before they were required of her.

He raised an eyebrow, as a hand also rose and fell.  “Ow! I’ll do everything ow! you ask! Ow! Ow! Immediately and OW! without question! Ow! Ow! Ow!”  Of course they both already knew she would, but it was good to hear it out loud.  Still, he was in a mood to hear quite a bit more.

“Hmmph!”  His skepticism was apparent in both tone and application, and Alexis’ spirits sank.  Walking in front of her, he selected an instrument that made her fine features droop in dismay, enjoying the view down her maid top nearly as much as that revealed behind her with the tiny panties stretched around her knees and the already scandalous matching skirt pulled up to her waist.  Alexis was quite aware of how ridiculous she must look, but had worse problems than the male gaze to occupy her, staring at what he held and remembering the last few times she’d gotten it.

Alexis whined and shifted uncomfortably, her wrists held firmly in place by a cunning length of leather attached to the frame that could be hidden beneath the cushions when not attached to a supplicant, her ankles by a similar device on the other side that looped around the short legs.  A girl over this couch (and there had been many) wasn’t going anywhere until Charles Martin had finished with her.  She moaned as he took up position behind her.

SMACK! Alexis wailed as the leather paddle was laid in over her fading stripes from a few days before, as well as the bright red rectangles she’d just received with a small wooden ruler.  "Oh sir!  I'll be so good!" SMACK!  "Owwww! I'll wear revealing clothes!" Not that she had much choice.  SMACK!  “I’ll take them off whenever you like!” Indeed you will, thought Charles smugly.  SMACK! “I’ll spread my legs!” SMACK! "And bounce my tits for you!" SMACK!  "Oh! Not so hard, please sir!"  SMACK! “I’ll keep my pussy shaved!”  SMACK! "I'll rub up against you!" SMACK!  “All the time! SMACK! "Ow! With my tits and ass!" SMACK! “I’ll hold my cheeks open for you!” SMACK!  "I promise! Oh my poor behind!" "I'll keep your dick hard!"  SMACK! “OWWW! And your balls empty!” SMACK! "Oh please!  All day!" SMACK! “Wahaa!”

Charles Martin preened as Alexis sobbed, reminded once more of her proper role in the household.  It really was lovely to see how the girls progressed over time under his tutelage.  A few weeks ago this wealthy, arrogant young woman would never have dreamed such words could leave her chaste lips.  Now she’d give the cheapest gutter whore a run for her money.

And so it went on, Alexis babbling vows to become the very model of a dirty old man's fantasy, said old man smiling and letting the implement speak for him.  She often became quite inventive in her variety, desperate to intrigue the older man into distraction from further attention to her throbbing bottom.

And he made sure she kept her word.  From waking and showering together (where he enjoyed cleaning her much too thoroughly before she reluctantly returned the favor) until her bedtime ritual she was in nearly constant contact with his manhood, gently rubbing against him with breasts or legs or ass,  or swiftly corrected if she wasn’t, and enduring as a result Charles Martin’s endless priapic grins.    Some days the pretty socialite spent hours sucking him off, on her knees as he read the paper, or ate his lunch, or lectured her on her attitude; often he didn’t even finish but simply ordered her to halt her efforts when he felt she’d been sufficiently demeaned.  She was often punished for this failure, of course, as well as for any perceived lack of enthusiasm in applying tongue, lips, fingers and eyes to their appointed tasks.  Often as not, the punishment was followed with a renewed (and more enthusiastic) attempt to “thank” him for disciplining her.  She rarely failed a third time. 

Day after day those tearful blue eyes stared into his leering face until it became imprinted on her retina, and she longed to see it begin to frown and quiver in anticipation of the ecstasy she drew forth from him, knowing it would mean a respite for her throbbing buttocks… but also yearned for the shameful pride she felt after as he patted her head, allowed her to swallow, and told her “Good girl.”

The nurse usually stopped by just after dinner, preparing her for a nocturnal violation that was an unwelcome road even for being so well-traveled.  She’d learned early on that any attempts to beg off would only result in further chastisement.  Her cheeks always burned with the nurse’s lewd comments – “there, that should be a comfy fit for his grace“ or “hope he gives it to you good this time!” or “you’ve had this coming and soon you’ll have him coming too!” as she tittered, pushing the plunger that sent the burning fluids inside Alexis.  After she’d been cleansed to her satisfaction the nurse always gave her the customary final anal injection of several ounces of petroleum jelly – “he’ll slip in so easily you won’t even notice!” she’d add with a wink.  Alexis only wished it were true.

At night she spread those inflamed buttocks as wide as she could, desperately trying to rub away a bit of the sting as she held them open obediently until he was ready to accept her gift.  He usually had her wait over the side of his bed, nude, after she had wailed and howled her way through the nightly bedtime strapping that always left her sobbing uncontrollably, but other times in the study just after a delicious caning of her aristocratic globes had provoked a fervent need that could not be delayed or denied.   In either case she’d shudder as she heard his zipper, and then felt the terrible pressure at her still-stinging backside, and then the awful yielding…

This tender moment was always accompanied by Charles’ dry wit, which invariably left her blushing from naked head to toe as he worked his way inside:

“Ah, there’s what I’ve been looking for.”

“Looks like we’ve found something you’re good for after all.”

“How deep would you like it this time, dear?”

“Lovely weather tonight, don’t you think, miss?”

And of course his favorite: “Are you ready for a long, hard punishment, my dear?” which always made fresh tears squirt from her chagrined grimace as he made clear just how long and hard was the blissful instrument of her persecution… she felt his balls slap into her vulval lips as she absorbed its entire painful length, and knew she’d be absorbing it again and again until he was satisfied she’d been properly ravaged.  And that would take quite a while, in her unfortunate experience.

Night after night, the sobbing Alexis held her sore cheeks open and took Charles Martin inside her most private hole, grunting in discomfort and squealing in shame… but also hoping for the increased tempo and urgency that meant he was nearing the end of her torment.  Once he was firmly established in a degrading rhythm her naughty fingers would release her buttocks and steal  between her legs for a bit of sweet relief, only to be slapped away (accompanied by a whimper of despair) unless she’d been particularly good that day.  But, oh, those days when he let her touch her aching clit… it was like her whole body was filled with light and she hardly minded his gross straining and thrusting, orgasms rippling through her again and again as he worked to get himself off deep inside her.

Finally feeling him harden and begin pumping, she’d give an inarticulate cry of joy.  As she felt his essence spray inside her, she moaned in relief, even as the fragile remains of her ego were seared by the sure knowledge he was thinking, with enormous satisfaction, Well, that’s the little bitch put in her proper place for today, isn’t it?

*******

It was a Thursday.  Charles Martin sighed in contentment as he nestled into the now-familiar space between the red, upraised cheeks.  Tears fell onto the pillow from the eyes of a grateful Alexis – he’d only given her a couple minutes howling under the leather strap, after a good long warmup with his hand.  Charles had been pleased with the day’s obedience; it was the lightest before-bed punishment she’d gotten this week.

Of course it had still left her begging incoherently for his cock in her ass.  Nonetheless, she was proud of herself for holding position during the spanking and not needing to be tied down. Now she struggled to keep her butt properly oriented to receive the requested rape of her most private area, grunting and groaning as she absorbed each humiliating thrust.

As delightful as taking her bottom was, Charles found his mind drifting.  Now that the girl was nicely settled, it was time for some real fun.  He had special plans for Friday night, and nearly all the preparations were in place.  Alexis was in for quite a time.  Charles thought of the weekend ahead, imagining all that Alexis would do, and could control himself no longer.