CHAPTER ELEVEN
At least the following morning Kelly didn’t barge into Delia and Tara’s room. No, this time, she waited until they had gotten breakfast and had taken it out by the pool before waylaying them. “Good morning, you guys, how did you sleep?” she chirped.
“Okay,” Delia replied.
“I slept great,” Kelly told them. “Nothing like a terrific orgasm from an obedient slave to give one a good night’s sleep, is there?” She winked lasciviously.
“I suppose not,” Tara replied. She mixed strawberry jam into the yogurt she had spooned onto her plate.
“And it’s nice that Amanda is welcomed back, isn’t it? He’s really a very forgiving person, once you’ve made amends.”
Tara wanted to roll her eyes, but thought that might not be a good idea. “Yes,” was all she said. Delia nodded her agreement as well.
“So, as I said last night, he’s invited several guests-friends, business associates, the like. They’ll be looking for some fun of course.”
“Of course,” Delia said. Tara imagined that they had something other than golf in mind.
“That’s where you guys come in. It’s your lucky day and he likes you, so he’s given you probably the easiest assignment. Nothing too, heavy, just some innocent fun from one of the less demanding of the guests.”
“What does innocent fun involve exactly?” Tara asked.
“A little dress-up, some play acting, nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure. Like Halloween for the kinky set.”
“Halloween was a few months ago,” Tara noted.
“Don’t be a wise-ass, Tara. I can easily re-assign you to one of the other guests who will play quite a bit rougher,” Kelly replied.
A flash of raw fear passed over her face. “I’m sorry, Kelly,” she said, “What costumes do we have to wear?”
“Private school girl. A plaid skirt, white blouse with the school’s crest, Mary Janes.”
“I went to public school and we used to rag on the private school kids,” Delia said.
“Well, now you get to be one.”
“I don’t have any clothes like that,” Dee said.
“Don’t worry,” Kelly said. “I have them all ready for you.”
“And so what happens, exactly?” Tara asked.
“He’s the Principal. You’ve been sent to his office for doing something bad. He’ll tell you what you did. You’re the school bad girls, so you’ll deny it at first. Act tough and swear. He’ll punish you.”
“Punish us?” Delia asked nervously. “How, exactly?”
“Oh, don’t worry. Nothing too harsh, he’s not into anything brutal. Nothing like what Amanda got. Unless you disappoint him, then I’ll make sure you get a real punishment this evening. Then, after that, he’ll want a b.j. or maybe some sex. Whatever he wants, you do it-you got that?”
“Sure, Kelly,” they both replied.
“Good, I’m counting on you guys. I think you both have some acting chops, so let’s use them, OK?” The two roommates nodded. “You can hang out here at the pool for a while. They haven’t arrived yet. Robert will come get you when it’s showtime.”
***
A few hours later, Tara and Delia, dressed in Kelly’s best approximation of a private girl’s school uniform, knocked at the door of one of the guest suites. At Kelly’s urging they were both chewing large wads of gum, something that was presumably forbidden in the school. Someone had taped a piece of printer paper that read “Principal Smith’s Office” on the door.
“Come in!” a masculine voice called. The “Principal” was a balding man, with round metal-rimmed glasses, some years past middle age, who sat behind a desk facing the door.
“You were looking for us?” Delia asked, laying on her thickest Bronx accent.
“Miss Cunningham said that she smelled marijuana coming from the girl’s bathroom and when she went inside, you two were the only ones there.”
“It wasn’t us, honest,” Tara said. “Three other girls were in there and left just before us. It was them.”
“Which three girls?” he asked.
“Um, let’s see, I dunno their names, but they were there. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Your mother is alive and well, Tara. You shouldn’t talk that way,” he said. “And what’s that in your mouth, young lady?”
“Nothing,” Tara replied.
“You know that chewing gum is forbidden in this school.”
“Whatever,” Tara said.
“Mind your mouth, girl,” he warned. “Anyway, Miss Cunningham saw you two and no one else.”
“Have you noticed the thick glasses she wears?” Delia said. “That bitch is blind as a bat.”
“I will not have you speak of our faculty that way, you little slut!” he cried getting red in the face. “And spit out that gum!” Delia took the gum out of her mouth and stuck it on the underside of his desk.
“Alright, I’ve had quite enough of this backtalk and attitude from you two guttersnipes. I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice but to paddle you.”
“Paddle?” Tara asked, nervously. This game was turning serious. He opened a large drawer in the desk and pulled out a heavy wooden paddle. One end was a leather wrapped handle, from which the business end broadened out to a nasty looking blade with several holes drilled in it to reduce the resistance as the instrument of punishment moved through the air.
“Yes, young lady, that is what this school uses to discipline little sluts like you and your friend.” He stood. He was of medium height and a bit overweight, but his arms seemed strong enough to do some damage with the paddle.
“You’re not serious, Principal Smith.” Delia said.
“Oh, you bet your ass I am,” he said. “In fact, that’s exactly where you’ll get it, on your asses. Six of the best, as they say and they’ve never been more deserved. Both of you bend over the desk, now!” he shouted. “Any more nonsense out of either of you and you’ll get double. Move it!”
Tara wasn’t sure if this was a game or if he was really going to paddle them, but she figured it was best not to take any chances. She stood with her hips against his desk and bent over. Her hands were just able to grab the far end of the desk. She saw Delia come over and assume the same position beside her, their bodies almost, but not quite, touching.
“Principal Smith” walked around the desk to stand behind them. Tara felt his hand on her ass, the fingers reaching under her waistband and yanking her panties roughly down below her knees. Then, he grasped the hem of her skirt and lifted it over her waist, leaving her buttocks totally exposed. Turning her head, she saw that he had done the same to Delia.
“Prepare yourselves,” he said. Before Tara was able to ponder how best to do that, she heard a “Whoosh!” and a “Crack!” and felt a burning fire spread throughout her ass. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the pain rose to a crescendo, before slowly declining.
“Shit!” she muttered, reaching her hands back to try to soothe the agony in her cheeks.
“Keep your hands on the desk or that one won’t count!” he ordered. Reluctantly, Tara complied.
Tara heard another “Whoosh! Crack!” but felt nothing this time. Obviously, this one was Delia’s. Her friend yelled, “Fuck!” and Tara felt her squirming as the pain hit home.
Knowing the next one was hers, Tara girded herself. Despite that, the pain, building on the previous stroke, took her breath away. She hopped from foot to foot as the agony built. Despite her best efforts not to give him the satisfaction of making her cry, she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
The third one broke her resistance. “Please, sir, that’s enough. I can’t take any more!” she pleaded. And, really, Tara didn’t know if she could take any more.
“Shut up, you little slut!” he shouted. “You’ll take every last one.” Then she heard him whack Delia and heard her friend’s sobs.
But, take them, she did-three more whacks, each of which burned its way into her flesh and into her mind. If you’d asked Tara, she might have been forced to admit that the paddle was far less severe than the whip that had been used on Amanda and she was taking six instead of twenty four. Nevertheless, in the moment, that was small comfort. By the end, she was blubbering and shaking and her ass was a sea of fire.
As she heard the sixth stroke connect with Delia’s buttocks, Tara started to rise. “Stay right where you are!” the “Principal” ordered. “We’re not done here. Whores like you deserve to be fucked and I’m just the man to do it!” She peered behind her to see him unbuttoning his trousers and lowering them, followed by his briefs. He was sporting a rampant erection.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded. Tara moved her feet apart. Her leg was pressing hard against Dee’s leg as Delia spread her legs as well to comply with his order. For, neither of them dared to test what would happen if they didn’t.
With a quick thrust, Tara felt him enter her. He rutted away, his crotch banging against her ass, setting off a new bout of distress in the battered flesh. “Owww! You’re hurting me!” she complained.
“Goddammit, you whore! That’s too, damn bad,” he told her.
Then, he was gone. Tara turned and saw that he was fucking Delia. Her friend had the same pained expression on her face that Tara had exhibited when he was screwing her. He, on the other hand was grinning as he plowed into her.
He alternated back and forth three or four times, his motions becoming more and more vigorous. “Tight little pussies you sluts have,” he grunted. Finally, he pulled out of Tara and began thrusting his cock against her very sore cheeks. He gripped her shoulders for support and yelled out “Fuck, you dirty whore! I’m coming!” She could feel his hot cum splashing onto her ass and lower back as he emptied himself for what seemed to her like forever, though it probably seemed all too brief to him.
He collapsed onto Tara’s back, his weight pressing her boobs into the desktop. She could hear him panting. She hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack, something that wasn’t out of the question for a man of his age in less than perfect shape.
But, eventually, she felt him easing himself off of her. “Alright, you can get up now,” he said. Tara stood, stiffly, the sudden motion setting off a new round of burning in her poor butt flesh.
“May I use the bathroom?” she asked.
“Sure,” he replied. She cleaned up his mess as best she could and pulled her underpants up. When she came out, he was dressed and back sitting behind the desk. “I hope you girls have learned your lesson and won’t be smoking pot in the school again,” he said.
“No sir, Principal Smith. We won’t do that again, will we Tara?” Delia replied.
“No way. We’re going to be your two star students from now on,” Tara added.
“That’s good,” he told them. “Now run along to your next class.”