The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (3 page)

When Lynette’s indrawn breaths grew close to sobs, Kay stopped. “Let’s have a little talk about your diet. What does eating too much butter do to the female bottom?”

“It makes it bigger.”

“And you want a small, high bum, don’t you, Lynette, because you want to run a Trim Camp of your own one day?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Want a bum that both men and women will admire?”

The girl snivellingly agreed that this was the case.

“So put the butter back in the fridge then get your backside over the table and take your medicine.” She untied the girl’s wrist bonds and watched Lynette get up slowly from
her lap. Her movements were stiff and uncoordinated – lust did that to a girl – as she returned the butter dish to the refrigerator. Then she walked to the table, her nightdress
covering her punished backside.

“No – tuck your nightie under your arms. I only reprimand bare bottoms.”

“But if someone comes in, they’ll see!” Lynette kept her arms clamped mutinously at her sides.

Kay got up and strode purposefully across the room. “Lift it up now or I’ll have you back in Leeds before you can say the words ‘sacked for gross misconduct’.”

With a defeated whimper, Lynette edged up the cotton to reveal her tummy and neatly-trimmed pubis. Slowly, Kay turned her to face the table, encouraged her to bend over it.

“Where were we? Ah yes, about to correct this recalcitrant backside.” She caressed the waiting flesh. “I’ve found that the harder you thrash a troublemaker, the more she
respects you. The more prolonged the lecture, the longer it remains in the naughty girl’s mind.”

“I won’t forget – honest, I won’t,” Lynette mumbled into the mahogany surface.”

“I’ll make sure of that by giving you lots of time to reflect between strokes.”

“I understand, Miss Reid.”

Kay looked searchingly round the room. “Oh, dear, I seem to have lost the wooden spoon. I may have to fetch the cane from my room instead and it’s much more biting.”

“Let me find it!” Lynette jumped up and stared around the huge kitchen with its numerous hanging tools and colanders and saucepan sets.

“I’m getting bored with waiting.” Kay tapped her foot irritably and slapped one palm against the other.

Lynette’s hands automatically flew to her bottom and she stared more fervently at the various cooking implements. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she raced towards the large, decorative
wooden spoon which hung from one of the alcove walls. As she stood on tiptoe to reach it, her nightdress rose up again, showing her tenderized bottom. Kay’s lower belly convulsed with
lust.

“Back you come, dear. The table is waiting,” she said in a deceptively casual voice. “Hand me the spoon.”

Reluctantly, the blonde girl approached and held out the wooden punisher.

“I’ll never over-eat again, Miss!”

“The spoon will make sure of that,” Kay said. She admired Lynette’s nipples, now pushing firmly through the embroidered nightdress. “Bend over the table and grasp the
edge.” She watched as the younger girl obeyed. “Good girl. Now stick out your arse as far as it will go.”

Again, the twenty-two-year-old hesitated. “I’ll exercise more in the gym. I’ll give up sweets.”

“Sounds somewhat unbalanced. Now present your naked cheeks for the rest of their reprimand, please.”

She watched as the younger woman took a deep breath, then pushed her buttocks up and back, making a perfect target for the large, smooth spoon.

“There, that wasn’t so hard.” Kay fondled the bum, enjoying its new humiliated display. “Looks very tempting. Looks like it’s just begging for this kitchen
alternative to the cane.”

Lynette whimpered. The sound seemed to come from very far away. It was from the head, of course, which was obviously feeling very sorry for itself and dreading what was coming. But Kay just
wanted to concentrate on warming the arse. She knew that, though the girl would hate each searing stroke, it would make her pussy wetter and wetter, that she might ultimately want to pleasure Kay
with her tongue and be pleasured in turn.

She lined up the spoon with the underswell of the girl’s rump and swung the implement forward until it hit smartly home. The junior lecturer yelled and started to scramble upwards.
“That’s bad. That’s very bad.” Kay stepped forward and cupped the girl’s buttocks, cradling them like she would a frightened animal. “You don’t want me to
have to start all over again?”

“Please, no.” Lynette got obediently back in place, then reluctantly presented her bottom for further punishment.

Kay contemplated her handiwork: the lower curve of one spank-reddened cheek showed the first precise lash of the spoon. “Let’s make these cheeks nice and symmetrical,” she
murmured gloatingly before laying on a second stroke.

“Aaah!” The young woman flinched and drove her belly closer against the wood. She drummed her toes on the floor. Kay could hear but not see the scrabbling noises made by her fingers.
They obviously wanted to propel her away from this torment, to at least cover her punished posterior, whereas her brain was warning her to get the thrashing over with, to stay in place.

Her brain was obviously winning – at least for now. Kay moved the spoon up a centimetre, and got ready to paddle her would-be lover. She was more familiar with using her hand or a
belt.

“My friend at a rival camp enjoys making each failed slimmer’s bottom as striped as possible,” she told Lynette,.“She loves the distinction between the hot red cane marks
and the cool white surrounding flesh. Sometimes we swap naughty grown-up girls if we feel that they’re growing complacent, can benefit from a change of discipline.”

She flicked the implement above the previous glowing stroke then immediately added a fourth parallel mark to the other buttock. Lynette gasped loudly but stayed in place, perhaps contemplating
what it would be like to be corrected by a complete stranger. “Now where shall I put marks five and six? Oh, I know, up here where it’s feeling neglected.” Kay stepped forward to
tauntingly stroke the expanse of spanked-but-not-yet-paddled flesh.

“Oh, it really stings!” Lynette wailed. Her sex lips were wetly swollen, obviously begging for liberation. So was her bare backside.

“Just a few more to go,” Kay said. Part of her wanted to chastise this pert bum for ever, but the girl was more likely to acquiesce to future thrashings – and subsequent sex
sessions – if her pain threshold wasn’t over-reached.

She added lashes five and six where she’d indicated that she would and swiftly followed them up with seven and eight towards the top of the luckless girl’s posterior, taking care to
keep away from the delicate spine. Lynette cried out and ricocheted up. Holding her small crimson cheeks in both palms, face flushed and eyes downcast, she backed away.

“You’ve done well,” Kay said. Lynette faltered, then looked over at her. Kay approached very slowly. “I’d almost finished, dear.”

“I just couldn’t bear . . .”

“I know. I know.” She looked over at the sink as if the idea had just occurred to her. “Look there’s that cold cream that the cleaning lady uses to soften her hands. I
could use some to cool your toasted backside.”

Lynette’s hot face reddened further and Kay knew that she was bi-curious but still coming to terms with her sexual desires.

She stared at the floor and mumbled, “I should probably do it myself.”

“Are you refusing my generous offer?”

The twenty-two-year-old swallowed hard. “It’s just that . . . I’ve never had another woman touch my bottom before.”

“Yet you were happy enough for me to spank you?”

“I . . . didn’t want to be sent away.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Kay said. “It’s cold back in England compared to here. The food isn’t as varied. And if you don’t get a good reference from me,
you’ll find it harder to set up a British camp on your own.”

The girl nodded, made brief eye contact then returned her shamed gaze to the floor.

“Which is why you want to stay here, want to please your Camp Leader. Are very grateful when she offers to soothe your punished bum.” She patted the kitchen table. “Put your
tummy over there, my love.” Lynette looked at the table top then moved slowly towards it as if half-expecting to be rescued. Was just settling her belly obediently in place when Kay
re-crossed the room with the cream.

For the umpteenth time, Kay lifted Lynette’s nightdress out of the way and admired her handiwork.

“It’s an awfully hot rump,” she murmured, caressing the trembling, smooth globes. Lynette twitched in mute but vociferous agreement. “So you’ll be very grateful to
Auntie Kay for massaging in some coolness,” the older woman continued, taking a golfball-sized globule of cream and starting to massage it in to the glowing flesh. She used slow but firm
strokes – erotic strokes. Felt her own groin expand as the girl breathed fast and hard.

Kay kept using her right hand to knead the ointment into the girl’s bum, slid her left digits between the girl’s parted thighs: “This is just to hold you steady.” Smiled
in power and anticipation as her squirming victim started to buff her clit against Kay’s hand. “Such a naughty bottom,” she continued, rubbing the emollient between the writhing
cheeks. “So wriggly. Especially when I massage this dividing crack.”

“Mmm,” Lynette muttered. Her voice tone was something alien and hoarse, almost feral.

“Did you say something?” Kay asked conversationally, feeling the girl move slicker, wilder, harder, “Say that you were ready to take the rest of that paddling on your
arse?”

“Mm. Uh. Aah . . .” Lynette gasped out.

Kay scooped more cream into the sensitive crease and stroked on, and on and on, loving the way the girl’s sore bum quivered, exulting in her little desperate moans.

“Need to . . .” Lynette mumbled, moving harder.

“Show control, my dear – you mustn’t come without permission,” Kay replied.

Suddenly the clit beneath her fingers was pushed even more frantically forward and its owner cried out long and gutturally: “Aaaaaah!” There was a ten-second pause till the next rush
of rapture obviously took over her bared and shamed body, “Aaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaah!”

Screams over, she gave a series of little grunts, pushed her thighs tight together, then lay, prostrate, across the table. “Oh, dear,” Kay murmured. “I give you a motherly
respite from your much-needed rebuke and you repay me by indulging in an unnatural act.”

“I . . . But your fingers were . . .” Lynette muttered into the table. Kay picked up the spoon and used it four times in quick succession on the girl’s anointed rear to bring
her flagging energy back. Lynette wailed and squirmed quickly away, leaving a sex-juice trail on the mahogany surface. Sheepishly she got up and took hold of her hem as if to pull her nightie
down.

“No, leave it there so that I have access to your bum whilst you make amends.”

“Make amends? I thought I’d . . .”

“It’s hardly fair if only one of us orgasms,” Kay said.

“I guess,” Lynette muttered, licking her full, red lips.

“Good girl. Now get that pretty little tongue over here and put it to use.”

Praying that the girl would bring her satisfaction, Kay undid her army surplus trousers and pulled them completely off. Still staring challengingly at Lynette, she did the same with her crotch
thong. Then she sat down in the chair and spread her legs into an expectant V.

“I’ve never been with another woman before,” Lynette stammered.

“Sweetheart, you just came against my fingers.”

“But . . .”

“You know that you want to, deep down,” Kay said.

With a half sob, Lynette knelt before Kay and used her fingers to open up her labial lips.

Kay smiled. “I like a fast light pressure. Put the tip of your tongue directly on my clit.” She groaned as wet tissue met wet tissue: she was almost there already. Doling out that
spanking and paddling on such a fair bum had been all the foreplay she needed. Just a few flickering licks . . .

“Up a bit, sweetheart. Make sure you get it right, or I’ll have to teach you. Have you ever had a big studded belt lashing down on your poor bare bottom? No? It’s not too
late.” She tensed her thighs as the pleasure built. “You’d never be able to bear if without restraint, of course. I’d have to tie your arms and legs over the tallest
stool.”

Her groin swelled at the image. “Have to prepare your bum first with a sound slippering, then gag you so that you couldn’t beg for help or start squealing.” The familiar signal
in her sex told her that she was almost there. “Or I could take you outside to the woodshed, bend you over a log, get out the whippy cane . . .”

She heard her own half-strangled scream coming from somewhere above her head as the ecstasy flowed through her throbbing pubes in long, hot pulses. Moaning, she grabbed the blonde girl’s
head and held it there to make sure she kept licking, finally slumped back in her chair.

When she opened her eyes a moment later, Lynette was still crouching on the floor. “Stand up. Bend over. Let me look at your chastened arse, my fallen angel.”

The girl’s lids fluttered down in embarrassment, but she obeyed. Kay stared at the bent cheeks of pain, at the wet trails of pleasure. “You can go. Your punishment is over. Obviously
I’m trusting you not to transgress again.”

“I won’t, Miss. I swear!”

“Good girl. Then go to bed and sleep on your tummy. Tomorrow life will go on as normal.”

“Yes, Miss Reid.” Lynette walked towards the door with unusually stiffened thighs.

“And you can pull your nightie down.”

The girl gingerly smoothed the pale cotton over the crimson hemispheres, “Yes, Miss. And . . . thanks.”

The door closed. The stairs creaked. After a moment Kay heard the girl go into her room. Then silence. Slowly she got to her feet and struggled her way into her thong and army trousers, her
tissues still tender from Lynette’s surprisingly eager tongue.

She fingered the wooden spoon. When would she have a chance to use it again? There was this particularly impish twenty-year-old redhead called Jo who’d just started at the Camp as Games
Mistress and who always gobbled her meals and asked for seconds. She must use up lots of calories on the playing fields . . .