Tales of the CPA - Dodgeball Damage
Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2020 11:42 am
Tales of the CPA - Dodgeball Damage
(This story is also available as a downloadable file in my "Story Archive" thread.)
The gym class looked at their P.E teacher expectantly. After a hard session of sprints, rope-climbing and bodyweight exercises they were tired and sweaty, with ten minutes of class left to go.
Sally McBride was a tall woman just shy of thirty, and her body was toned to perfection. Long, firm legs showed beneath her blue pleated skirt and her close-fitting white top hugged a firm pair of C-cup breasts. She was quite pretty, with long dark hair, and her knockout figure made her an object of lust for the boys she instructed. It also made her a target for the police strap. There was no upper age limit for public spankings, and while the police generally focused on the teen to mid-twenties age bracket, Sally was attractive enough to be considered spank-worthy. Two or three times a month she would be ordered to “Bend and present!” so she could receive a dose of leather. Since the mini-skirt she wore to P.E class ended about an inch below her ass, it rode up whenever she moved - giving a tantalising view of her lower buttocks. The boys attending her class were always keen to see whether she wore the bruises from a recent spanking.
For the girls however, McBride was a woman to be feared. As always, a nylon skipping rope was draped around her neck - a constant reminder of her authority. The Headmaster had bestowed on her the right to administer corporal punishment to those who were out of line or failed to perform their best. It was commonly believed that Ms McBride was a lesbian because she never employed her rope on boys, but the truth was very different. McBride was entirely straight and had had many boyfriends. The only reason she didn't spank boys was because she wasn't permitted to. The headmaster had decided that the occasional public whipping was good to maintain order and keep the threat of CP visible - but he didn't want his school to be known as somewhere that boys had to drop their pants and have their tackle swinging in the breeze. Not only was the very idea offensive, it would make him a laughingstock in the teacher’s union!
And so, as with almost all aspects of the CPA, girls were the only ones on the receiving end of McBride's rope. She had used it sparingly at first, but it wasn't long before she began to enjoy the power she wielded. The expression on a girl's face when ordered to grab her ankles was priceless, and while she wasn't "into" women, Sally had begun to appreciate the beauty of a teenage girl's behind.
She looked at the class. The boys wore black shorts and white t-shirts - the girls wore nothing but white sports bras and G-strings. The change in female uniform had been McBride's own idea. She had argued that "fat-shaming" would help address the growing problem of obesity in the younger generation, and the Headmaster needed little convincing. The girl's outfits were made of thin cotton, and as they were now soaked in sweat they had become translucent. Their nipples were clearly visible and the small triangular patch of their G-strings clung to their pubic mounds, showing every contour of the lips beneath. The concept of fat-shaming, (plus the daily risk of being publicly strapped by police), had indeed been effective. All the girls had slim figures, flat tummies and pert little bottoms.
McBride pretended to consider how to fill the last minutes of the lesson. “Alright!” she said eventually. “Let’s finish up with a quick round of dodgeball!”
The boys cheered – and the girls groaned. The class was always divided by gender for these competitions, and consequently the boys almost invariably won. But it wasn’t the near-certainty of losing that troubled the girls – it was the ‘forfeit’ they would have to pay afterwards. At a nod from their teacher, two of the boys rushed to fetch the box of handballs, while the rest of the class took position on the marked court area. With the balls divided equally, McBride blew her whistle – and the game was on.
It wasn’t long before the first girl fell victim to a well-aimed ball.
“Pheeep!” McBride blew her whistle. “Anita Hurst – you’re out!”
Anita moaned quietly as she left the court. As the first girl out she would suffer the most when it was time to pay the price of losing. The boys grinned as the pretty blonde made her way to the bench and knelt on top. She lowered her G-string down to mid-thigh, spread her knees wide and bent over to place her hands on the ground. With her head down and her ass high, her feminine charms were on full display between her spread thighs. Now she could only wait anxiously for the end of the game.
The outcome was a foregone conclusion. Even at their best the girls were no match for the boys. The rope-climbing had taken its toll and the girls throws were slow and clumsy, the balls easily dodged or caught by the far stronger boys. Despite their best efforts, one girl after another joined Anita on the bench. The few boys who were sent off court didn’t bother watching the rest of the game. They walked up and down the line of girls, admiring the view. A row of beautiful bottoms and perfect pussies, held reluctantly on display. They didn’t stop at simply looking either. Each backside was squeezed and patted, every set of lips gently teased by eager fingers.
“You’re gonna cop it bad Anita!” said Robby gleefully. He pinched her cheek painfully. “Been a while since I’ve seen you get a whipping!”
Anita sniffed mournfully. She knew all too well what was going to happen – McBride was very fond of “encouraging” girls who didn’t perform well in class.
Robbie turned his attention to Anita’s slit. Normally a neat line down the centre of her pubic mound, it was now open to reveal the pink of her inner lips. He licked his fingers and rubbed them gently over her most sensitive areas, caressing her labia and brushing her clit. Anita wriggled uncomfortably, but there was nothing she could do, and she dared not incur McBride’s wrath by failing to hold position.
It didn’t take long before the game was over and the last girl took her place on the bench. McBride waved the boys back and unslung the rope from around her neck. “OK girls, time to take your medicine!”
She whirled the rope around in circles, the girls shivering at the ominous sound. McBride stepped briskly to the last girl on the bench and let fly.
*SNAP!* The rope bit cruelly into young flesh.
“Eeeaaah! Thank you miss!”
The smirking teacher moved to the next girl and swung again.
*SNAP!*
“Oooohhhh! Thank you miss!”
The watching boys chuckled as their sexy teacher worked her way down the line, giving each bottom a hard lash.
“Good one miss!”
“Great aim you’ve got miss!”
McBride enjoyed their complements – just as she enjoyed knowing that her own rear end was getting its share of attention from the boys behind her. She was well aware of the feelings that her body inspired in them, and while she considered mere boys to be unworthy of her, she was happy to be an object of desire. She also knew that all the boys had seen the videos of her public spankings, and it amused her greatly to imagine how many gallons of cum had been spilled on her behalf. Her short skirt rode up as she swung her rope, giving just a tiny glimpse of her lower buttocks to tease her audience. It had been a few weeks since her last strapping, and her tightly-toned tushy was pristine.
Since public spankings invariably found their way onto the internet, the boys were intimately familiar with their sports teacher’s anatomy, and many had her videos bookmarked for perusal after class. They would masturbate happily as they watched her drop her panties (always a thong or G-string) to reveal her firm buttocks and well-groomed nether regions. Her normally commanding voice would be humble and contrite as she dutifully thanked a stern-faced police officer every time the heavy strap smacked into her bottom. Quite a few of her students had even been lucky enough to witness her strappings first-hand, something that earned them the envy of others. It would have both excited and amazed them to learn that this was not by accident.
On occasion, when the mood took her, McBride would visit a shopping centre that she knew was frequented by her students. Dressed provocatively, she was guaranteed to attract the attention of police - and if not them, the eye of young men who would be keen to report her for some imaginary wrongdoing. Either way the result was the same. She would have to bend over, expose her special places and take a good thrashing. She was greatly admired, not only for her lovely looks and tightly-toned behind, but also for the stoicism with which she took her swats. Her voice was always steady as she counted off, and once her punishment was complete she would humbly thank her spanker before rearranging her clothes and continuing on as if nothing had happened. Nobody knew how much it excited her to expose herself in public - or how her greatest concern after a strapping was not the fire in her behind, but the wetness in her pussy. She couldn't wait to go home and pleasure herself as she relived the scene, thinking about all the young men who lusted after her - and who would be furiously jerking their cocks that night.
But sometimes she wasn't satisfied with simply masturbating. When she was particularly horny, she would present herself to the nearest police station and declare that she was in possession of an illicit substance. She was then guaranteed a full cavity search and enema - followed by another strapping for "wasting police time" when the investigation of her intimate spaces turned up nothing. It was rare that she felt brave enough to subject herself to such an ordeal, but when she did it was exquisitely rewarding...
One by one the girls received their penalty, each bottom now sporting a bright red line across the middle. When McBride reached Anita she paused.
“First out! Four swats!” declared McBride. “This will encourage you to try harder next time!”
The boys cheered and Anita cringed, clenching her teeth in anticipation. McBride swung the rope in a circle around her head, making it whistle through the air.
*SMACK!* The sound was noticeably louder this time.
“Oooooh!” Anita moaned. “Thank you miss!”
*SMACK!* A second red line appeared on Anita’s trembling buttocks.
“Yeeooow!” Thank you, miss!”
*SMACK!*
“Aaaahhhhh! Th-thank you m-miss!”
McBride took her time winding up for the last stroke as the poor girl whimpered in pain. The delighted boys egged their teacher on.
“Make it count miss!”
“Last one’s the hardest!”
*SMACK!* The final blow sliced into soft flesh.
“EEEEAAAAHHHHH!!” Anita howled. McBride’s rope was fearsome when given a full wind-up, four swats was easily as bad as six of the best from the Headmaster’s cane.
“Th, th, thank…” Anita panted and gulped for breath. “…you m-miss!”
She abandoned herself to quiet sobbing as the boys cheered. But all knew that the fun wasn’t over yet..
*PHEEP!* “Alright boys, your turn. Line up!”
There was a sudden scramble as the boys rushed to line up at the end of the bench, next to the first girl. The boy at the front of the line looked at McBride, who nodded her head.
*SMACK!* *SMACK!* He delivered a hard slap to each bare buttock.
“Ow! Ow!” exclaimed the girl. She wiggled her ass in an attempt to distract herself from the pain, but only succeeded in titillating the boys further. With a chuckle, the boy moved on to the next victim – and the second in line took his place to repeat the performance. The gleeful boys worked their way along the bench of bottoms, and soon the air was ringing with the sound of smacked rumps and indignant squeals. The sounds of pain became louder as the girls' tender tushies became redder and redder.
At the far end of the bench, Anita waited in dread for the spankers to reach her. With ten boys in the class, each girl would get a total of twenty smacks on her already sore behind – and hers was already welted and throbbing…
McBride watched with satisfaction as the beautiful bottoms were spanked to a bright red. She herself had been a reluctant spankee in her younger years - until she had accidentally let a raincheck expire. Picked up by a random sweep at a shopping centre, she had been promptly hauled down to the nearest station to receive her dues. The mandatory strip and cavity search had given her plenty of time to consider her fate, with the plod gleefully telling her that she would shortly be strapped to the dreaded "block" to clear her tab - plus another dozen for not reporting to take her swats. She had desperately offered him a blowjob in return for clemency, but he was firm.
"Good girls take their swats!" he told her. "You need to be taught a lesson!"
By the time she was secured to the block she was a nervous wreck, sweating with fear and feeling more helpless than ever before. The strapping had been slow and brutal, each blow delivered with maximum force with a lengthy pause in between to allow the burn to sink in. After the first dozen she was crying - but then something amazing had happened. She had ceased to struggle, lying meekly in place and waiting for the strap to kiss her young bottom. Somehow it no longer seemed so terrible. It hurt yes, but there was a strange satisfaction, a knowledge that she had been a bad girl and was being properly punished. She no longer saw her spanker as an opportunistic neanderthal, but as a fatherly figure who was giving her what she needed. She had zoned out, feeling the burn in her bottom as though from a distance, and had accepted her swats with a sense of gratitude that she had never felt before.
By the time her strapping was over she was wet, her juices slowly oozing from her beautiful little pussy. This hadn't escaped the attention of her spanker, who declared that he would need to perform a second search of her tight little holes. His probing fingers had taken her to a shattering multiple orgasm that she never forgot. When the cop had stepped in front of her and taken out his raging manhood she had sucked at it eagerly, before making him an offer he couldn't refuse.
"You can have any hole you want sir!" she told him. "Treat me like a naughty little slut!"
He was quick to take advantage, and Sally had walked awkwardly home with a well-fucked asshole that was full of his cum. From that day on she was a changed woman.
In her normal life she was a forceful personality, but she had learned the secret pleasure of being submissive. Every strapping she took from then on was a chance to submit to a higher authority, to be put in her place like a little girl. She learned to enjoy her public spankings, always striving to present the best view to those watching, and to hold her ass high as if eager for the strap - which she secretly was. She was proud of taking her swats so well. But the real joy was to be had down at the station, where she could allow herself to be used sexually after her beatings. She took rainchecks whenever she could, and would masturbate to the thoughts of what would be done to her when she went to collect them.
Being a natural beauty, she could always find a boyfriend who was happy to give her what she wanted - but none could accept that she craved it from the police as well. She would quiver in excitement as she entered the station, knowing that she was just a toy to be used. Consequently her relationships never lasted long. At present she was two months into a sex drought, having failed to find a man who she thought both worthy of her and likely to accept her darker needs. And so she had allowed a couple of rainchecks to expire, knowing full well what she would receive when she showed her ID to a police officer.
There was a new constable at her local station - a tall, well-built young man with a commanding presence and strong arms. He would be on duty tonight - and it was to him that she would submit herself. She would get the two dozen on her tab, plus another twelve for failing to collect on time. Thirty-six was an optimum spanking. It was more than she could take in a normal session, enough to reduce her to tears, but not so bad that she would be unable to enjoy the antics that would follow. Her red, throbbing ass would be on offer, as would her wet, eager pussy. But she wasn't going to settle for just one man. Sally loved to be spit-roasted, used at both ends while fastened to the block. She would wrap her lips around one shaft while being rogered solidly by another. The sensation of being simultaneously helpless and used, while at the same time a willing participant in her own humiliation, was the greatest pleasure she had ever known. She could feel herself growing moist at the thought.
The boys had reached Anita now, and her whimpers turned to cries of pain as eager hands smacked her whipped ass. McBride's smile was taken by those watching to be confirmation of her supposed lesbian preference, but the truth was that it was her own thrashing that was making her horny. Tonight she would be used, humbled - and satisfied.
And tomorrow, her students would see her bruised buttocks peeking out below her skirt, proof that she had been given her just desserts. The boys would be thrilled, the girls smugly satisfied that their strict teacher was getting a taste of her own medicine. But it would also serve as an uncomfortable reminder for the lovely lasses that their bottoms would remain public property for many years to come...
**********************************************************************
(This story is also available as a downloadable file in my "Story Archive" thread.)
The gym class looked at their P.E teacher expectantly. After a hard session of sprints, rope-climbing and bodyweight exercises they were tired and sweaty, with ten minutes of class left to go.
Sally McBride was a tall woman just shy of thirty, and her body was toned to perfection. Long, firm legs showed beneath her blue pleated skirt and her close-fitting white top hugged a firm pair of C-cup breasts. She was quite pretty, with long dark hair, and her knockout figure made her an object of lust for the boys she instructed. It also made her a target for the police strap. There was no upper age limit for public spankings, and while the police generally focused on the teen to mid-twenties age bracket, Sally was attractive enough to be considered spank-worthy. Two or three times a month she would be ordered to “Bend and present!” so she could receive a dose of leather. Since the mini-skirt she wore to P.E class ended about an inch below her ass, it rode up whenever she moved - giving a tantalising view of her lower buttocks. The boys attending her class were always keen to see whether she wore the bruises from a recent spanking.
For the girls however, McBride was a woman to be feared. As always, a nylon skipping rope was draped around her neck - a constant reminder of her authority. The Headmaster had bestowed on her the right to administer corporal punishment to those who were out of line or failed to perform their best. It was commonly believed that Ms McBride was a lesbian because she never employed her rope on boys, but the truth was very different. McBride was entirely straight and had had many boyfriends. The only reason she didn't spank boys was because she wasn't permitted to. The headmaster had decided that the occasional public whipping was good to maintain order and keep the threat of CP visible - but he didn't want his school to be known as somewhere that boys had to drop their pants and have their tackle swinging in the breeze. Not only was the very idea offensive, it would make him a laughingstock in the teacher’s union!
And so, as with almost all aspects of the CPA, girls were the only ones on the receiving end of McBride's rope. She had used it sparingly at first, but it wasn't long before she began to enjoy the power she wielded. The expression on a girl's face when ordered to grab her ankles was priceless, and while she wasn't "into" women, Sally had begun to appreciate the beauty of a teenage girl's behind.
She looked at the class. The boys wore black shorts and white t-shirts - the girls wore nothing but white sports bras and G-strings. The change in female uniform had been McBride's own idea. She had argued that "fat-shaming" would help address the growing problem of obesity in the younger generation, and the Headmaster needed little convincing. The girl's outfits were made of thin cotton, and as they were now soaked in sweat they had become translucent. Their nipples were clearly visible and the small triangular patch of their G-strings clung to their pubic mounds, showing every contour of the lips beneath. The concept of fat-shaming, (plus the daily risk of being publicly strapped by police), had indeed been effective. All the girls had slim figures, flat tummies and pert little bottoms.
McBride pretended to consider how to fill the last minutes of the lesson. “Alright!” she said eventually. “Let’s finish up with a quick round of dodgeball!”
The boys cheered – and the girls groaned. The class was always divided by gender for these competitions, and consequently the boys almost invariably won. But it wasn’t the near-certainty of losing that troubled the girls – it was the ‘forfeit’ they would have to pay afterwards. At a nod from their teacher, two of the boys rushed to fetch the box of handballs, while the rest of the class took position on the marked court area. With the balls divided equally, McBride blew her whistle – and the game was on.
It wasn’t long before the first girl fell victim to a well-aimed ball.
“Pheeep!” McBride blew her whistle. “Anita Hurst – you’re out!”
Anita moaned quietly as she left the court. As the first girl out she would suffer the most when it was time to pay the price of losing. The boys grinned as the pretty blonde made her way to the bench and knelt on top. She lowered her G-string down to mid-thigh, spread her knees wide and bent over to place her hands on the ground. With her head down and her ass high, her feminine charms were on full display between her spread thighs. Now she could only wait anxiously for the end of the game.
The outcome was a foregone conclusion. Even at their best the girls were no match for the boys. The rope-climbing had taken its toll and the girls throws were slow and clumsy, the balls easily dodged or caught by the far stronger boys. Despite their best efforts, one girl after another joined Anita on the bench. The few boys who were sent off court didn’t bother watching the rest of the game. They walked up and down the line of girls, admiring the view. A row of beautiful bottoms and perfect pussies, held reluctantly on display. They didn’t stop at simply looking either. Each backside was squeezed and patted, every set of lips gently teased by eager fingers.
“You’re gonna cop it bad Anita!” said Robby gleefully. He pinched her cheek painfully. “Been a while since I’ve seen you get a whipping!”
Anita sniffed mournfully. She knew all too well what was going to happen – McBride was very fond of “encouraging” girls who didn’t perform well in class.
Robbie turned his attention to Anita’s slit. Normally a neat line down the centre of her pubic mound, it was now open to reveal the pink of her inner lips. He licked his fingers and rubbed them gently over her most sensitive areas, caressing her labia and brushing her clit. Anita wriggled uncomfortably, but there was nothing she could do, and she dared not incur McBride’s wrath by failing to hold position.
It didn’t take long before the game was over and the last girl took her place on the bench. McBride waved the boys back and unslung the rope from around her neck. “OK girls, time to take your medicine!”
She whirled the rope around in circles, the girls shivering at the ominous sound. McBride stepped briskly to the last girl on the bench and let fly.
*SNAP!* The rope bit cruelly into young flesh.
“Eeeaaah! Thank you miss!”
The smirking teacher moved to the next girl and swung again.
*SNAP!*
“Oooohhhh! Thank you miss!”
The watching boys chuckled as their sexy teacher worked her way down the line, giving each bottom a hard lash.
“Good one miss!”
“Great aim you’ve got miss!”
McBride enjoyed their complements – just as she enjoyed knowing that her own rear end was getting its share of attention from the boys behind her. She was well aware of the feelings that her body inspired in them, and while she considered mere boys to be unworthy of her, she was happy to be an object of desire. She also knew that all the boys had seen the videos of her public spankings, and it amused her greatly to imagine how many gallons of cum had been spilled on her behalf. Her short skirt rode up as she swung her rope, giving just a tiny glimpse of her lower buttocks to tease her audience. It had been a few weeks since her last strapping, and her tightly-toned tushy was pristine.
Since public spankings invariably found their way onto the internet, the boys were intimately familiar with their sports teacher’s anatomy, and many had her videos bookmarked for perusal after class. They would masturbate happily as they watched her drop her panties (always a thong or G-string) to reveal her firm buttocks and well-groomed nether regions. Her normally commanding voice would be humble and contrite as she dutifully thanked a stern-faced police officer every time the heavy strap smacked into her bottom. Quite a few of her students had even been lucky enough to witness her strappings first-hand, something that earned them the envy of others. It would have both excited and amazed them to learn that this was not by accident.
On occasion, when the mood took her, McBride would visit a shopping centre that she knew was frequented by her students. Dressed provocatively, she was guaranteed to attract the attention of police - and if not them, the eye of young men who would be keen to report her for some imaginary wrongdoing. Either way the result was the same. She would have to bend over, expose her special places and take a good thrashing. She was greatly admired, not only for her lovely looks and tightly-toned behind, but also for the stoicism with which she took her swats. Her voice was always steady as she counted off, and once her punishment was complete she would humbly thank her spanker before rearranging her clothes and continuing on as if nothing had happened. Nobody knew how much it excited her to expose herself in public - or how her greatest concern after a strapping was not the fire in her behind, but the wetness in her pussy. She couldn't wait to go home and pleasure herself as she relived the scene, thinking about all the young men who lusted after her - and who would be furiously jerking their cocks that night.
But sometimes she wasn't satisfied with simply masturbating. When she was particularly horny, she would present herself to the nearest police station and declare that she was in possession of an illicit substance. She was then guaranteed a full cavity search and enema - followed by another strapping for "wasting police time" when the investigation of her intimate spaces turned up nothing. It was rare that she felt brave enough to subject herself to such an ordeal, but when she did it was exquisitely rewarding...
One by one the girls received their penalty, each bottom now sporting a bright red line across the middle. When McBride reached Anita she paused.
“First out! Four swats!” declared McBride. “This will encourage you to try harder next time!”
The boys cheered and Anita cringed, clenching her teeth in anticipation. McBride swung the rope in a circle around her head, making it whistle through the air.
*SMACK!* The sound was noticeably louder this time.
“Oooooh!” Anita moaned. “Thank you miss!”
*SMACK!* A second red line appeared on Anita’s trembling buttocks.
“Yeeooow!” Thank you, miss!”
*SMACK!*
“Aaaahhhhh! Th-thank you m-miss!”
McBride took her time winding up for the last stroke as the poor girl whimpered in pain. The delighted boys egged their teacher on.
“Make it count miss!”
“Last one’s the hardest!”
*SMACK!* The final blow sliced into soft flesh.
“EEEEAAAAHHHHH!!” Anita howled. McBride’s rope was fearsome when given a full wind-up, four swats was easily as bad as six of the best from the Headmaster’s cane.
“Th, th, thank…” Anita panted and gulped for breath. “…you m-miss!”
She abandoned herself to quiet sobbing as the boys cheered. But all knew that the fun wasn’t over yet..
*PHEEP!* “Alright boys, your turn. Line up!”
There was a sudden scramble as the boys rushed to line up at the end of the bench, next to the first girl. The boy at the front of the line looked at McBride, who nodded her head.
*SMACK!* *SMACK!* He delivered a hard slap to each bare buttock.
“Ow! Ow!” exclaimed the girl. She wiggled her ass in an attempt to distract herself from the pain, but only succeeded in titillating the boys further. With a chuckle, the boy moved on to the next victim – and the second in line took his place to repeat the performance. The gleeful boys worked their way along the bench of bottoms, and soon the air was ringing with the sound of smacked rumps and indignant squeals. The sounds of pain became louder as the girls' tender tushies became redder and redder.
At the far end of the bench, Anita waited in dread for the spankers to reach her. With ten boys in the class, each girl would get a total of twenty smacks on her already sore behind – and hers was already welted and throbbing…
McBride watched with satisfaction as the beautiful bottoms were spanked to a bright red. She herself had been a reluctant spankee in her younger years - until she had accidentally let a raincheck expire. Picked up by a random sweep at a shopping centre, she had been promptly hauled down to the nearest station to receive her dues. The mandatory strip and cavity search had given her plenty of time to consider her fate, with the plod gleefully telling her that she would shortly be strapped to the dreaded "block" to clear her tab - plus another dozen for not reporting to take her swats. She had desperately offered him a blowjob in return for clemency, but he was firm.
"Good girls take their swats!" he told her. "You need to be taught a lesson!"
By the time she was secured to the block she was a nervous wreck, sweating with fear and feeling more helpless than ever before. The strapping had been slow and brutal, each blow delivered with maximum force with a lengthy pause in between to allow the burn to sink in. After the first dozen she was crying - but then something amazing had happened. She had ceased to struggle, lying meekly in place and waiting for the strap to kiss her young bottom. Somehow it no longer seemed so terrible. It hurt yes, but there was a strange satisfaction, a knowledge that she had been a bad girl and was being properly punished. She no longer saw her spanker as an opportunistic neanderthal, but as a fatherly figure who was giving her what she needed. She had zoned out, feeling the burn in her bottom as though from a distance, and had accepted her swats with a sense of gratitude that she had never felt before.
By the time her strapping was over she was wet, her juices slowly oozing from her beautiful little pussy. This hadn't escaped the attention of her spanker, who declared that he would need to perform a second search of her tight little holes. His probing fingers had taken her to a shattering multiple orgasm that she never forgot. When the cop had stepped in front of her and taken out his raging manhood she had sucked at it eagerly, before making him an offer he couldn't refuse.
"You can have any hole you want sir!" she told him. "Treat me like a naughty little slut!"
He was quick to take advantage, and Sally had walked awkwardly home with a well-fucked asshole that was full of his cum. From that day on she was a changed woman.
In her normal life she was a forceful personality, but she had learned the secret pleasure of being submissive. Every strapping she took from then on was a chance to submit to a higher authority, to be put in her place like a little girl. She learned to enjoy her public spankings, always striving to present the best view to those watching, and to hold her ass high as if eager for the strap - which she secretly was. She was proud of taking her swats so well. But the real joy was to be had down at the station, where she could allow herself to be used sexually after her beatings. She took rainchecks whenever she could, and would masturbate to the thoughts of what would be done to her when she went to collect them.
Being a natural beauty, she could always find a boyfriend who was happy to give her what she wanted - but none could accept that she craved it from the police as well. She would quiver in excitement as she entered the station, knowing that she was just a toy to be used. Consequently her relationships never lasted long. At present she was two months into a sex drought, having failed to find a man who she thought both worthy of her and likely to accept her darker needs. And so she had allowed a couple of rainchecks to expire, knowing full well what she would receive when she showed her ID to a police officer.
There was a new constable at her local station - a tall, well-built young man with a commanding presence and strong arms. He would be on duty tonight - and it was to him that she would submit herself. She would get the two dozen on her tab, plus another twelve for failing to collect on time. Thirty-six was an optimum spanking. It was more than she could take in a normal session, enough to reduce her to tears, but not so bad that she would be unable to enjoy the antics that would follow. Her red, throbbing ass would be on offer, as would her wet, eager pussy. But she wasn't going to settle for just one man. Sally loved to be spit-roasted, used at both ends while fastened to the block. She would wrap her lips around one shaft while being rogered solidly by another. The sensation of being simultaneously helpless and used, while at the same time a willing participant in her own humiliation, was the greatest pleasure she had ever known. She could feel herself growing moist at the thought.
The boys had reached Anita now, and her whimpers turned to cries of pain as eager hands smacked her whipped ass. McBride's smile was taken by those watching to be confirmation of her supposed lesbian preference, but the truth was that it was her own thrashing that was making her horny. Tonight she would be used, humbled - and satisfied.
And tomorrow, her students would see her bruised buttocks peeking out below her skirt, proof that she had been given her just desserts. The boys would be thrilled, the girls smugly satisfied that their strict teacher was getting a taste of her own medicine. But it would also serve as an uncomfortable reminder for the lovely lasses that their bottoms would remain public property for many years to come...
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