Mic Britton: Third Lesson Part 03

Miss Smith continues her home studies. Missy is hard to hold onto in the face of Sarah's self doubts.

Enjoy

xantu

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Mick's words to her as they finished their shower sent a wave of happiness and gratitude swept over her and missy could not resist throwing her arms around him and pressing her lips to his chest.

Missy pressed her body close to his, electrified by the sensation of having his naked skin press the length of her body. She found herself undulating against him provocatively, a soft hum of joy at the sweetness of the feeling vibrating in her chest.

Mick gripped her arms and pushed her away. His eyes were irritated. "Missy, enough of this, it is not a student's place to make demands upon her teacher. It is also improper for a student to be so familiar with her teacher. I have already been far too indulgent of you."

Missy's face fell and she shrank up into herself. "I am sorry Mick Sir. I just was feeling so happy, so... so thankful." Her voice quivered.

He sighed and then spoke. "If a student wishes to express her gratitude to her teacher, she may kneel and ask her teacher for permission to speak. If her teacher permits her to speak, she may then express her feelings."

Missy sank to her knees and nodded sadly, "Yes Mick Sir."

Mick put his finger under her chin and raised her face up to look at his, "Don't be so sad missy; you will have lots of opportunities to show me your gratitude."

He reached up and turned off the shower. "Stand up and lean back against the wall, spread your legs out." After she was in position he took a small pair of scissors and began systematically trim off all her pubic hair close to the skin. After there was only short stubble covering her mound and lips he took the shaving cream and layered it over her whole groin. It was cool and burned a little on her sensitive inner folds.

Mick handed her a razor and said, "Go for it. I want you bald as baby." He knelt down and watched as she carefully slid the blade over the skin, revealing smooth skin behind. He turned on the shower again and had her rinse the razor frequently. When she was done he took the razor, lifted her leg and carefully shaved a few places she had missed. Each touch on her freshly smooth and sensitive skin made her jump and shiver.

Mick nodded in satisfaction and turned the spray from the shower onto her rinsing the last traces of the shaving cream from her. Missy jumped and whimpered in surprise at the new feeling of the warm water running over her now naked labia. Mick raised a brow. "Feels different?"

"Yes Mick Sir, it feels really different."

"I like the way it looks." He pulled her from the shower and stood her in front of the full length mirror. Missy looked curiously at her now smooth labia. Her thicker outer lips were much darker colored than she had expected, almost the same brownish pink as her nipples. Her inner labia peeked out between them, petals of deep soft rose.

"Don't you think it's pretty?" Mick knelt down and spread her wide with his thumbs. Missy looked down at the rich rose and pink folds exposed between the pale plum colored oval of her outer labia.

She flinched and gasped as he playfully leaned in and licked the length of her cleft. Instinctively her hands went to his head and he raised his face and slapped her hands away. Standing up he admonished her, "Missy a student never puts her hands on her teacher's person unless directed to. It will help you to remember this if you develop a habit of keep your hands clasped behind your back when you do not need them for an assigned task."

Missy felt a wave of shame and frustration. She wanted nothing more than to touch him, to caress him, to press her lips to him and he was forbidding her this. She felt the urge to protest, to stomp her foot and have a raging tantrum at this injustice. She could feel her face flush and she pressed her lips together and stared miserably at the floor as she put her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together. She recited in her mind, 'shut up and listen, obey, respect, and attitude... and don't fucking touch him'.

A single tear spilled down her face. At the sight a corner of Mick's mouth turned down. "Suck it up missy. You are acting like a baby."

Her eyes widened and an irrational wave of rage flowed over her. It felt like scalding water spilled over her head and flowed down her neck and shoulders. The words and even the tone of her voice were all little girl, "I am not! That's not fair!" Just as quickly it was gone, erased by a second wave of ice cold terror. Turning in panic she fled into the bedroom and quickly knelt on the pad, clasped her hands behind her back and stared at the floor trembling in fear.

Mick was silent as he walked back into the bedroom and pulled on his clothes. He did not speak until he was fully dressed. "Missy you have not been behaving with the respect I require."

She nodded miserably and whispered, "Mick Sir, may I have permission to speak?"

Missy could feel his eyes on her and after what seemed an eternity of waiting he spoke. "OK missy what do you want to say."

She struggled to control the shaking in her voice. "Mick Sir, you said this student could express gratitude with permission. Would it be permitted for this student to express regret?"

His voice was neutral, "It would be permitted."

"Mick Sir, I am sorry I said that you weren't being fair. I was acting immature. I had no right to act that way." She paused and then whispered in a tremulous voice. "Mick Sir please, if it would be permitted for a student to suggest this, I miss... I miss..." her voice faltered and her eyes went to the cat lying on top of the dresser, "that."

"You are asking for a review of submitting to pain?"

A tremor shook through her frame. Her voice was nearly inaudible, "Yes Mick Sir."

Mick did not respond with words, he just went to the dresser and pulled out some lengths of rope. "Come missy, come stand in the archway." Missy moved to stand where he pointed and he began to tie the ropes around her arms, passing the rope around and around her wrist until a wide cuff of spirals supported the joint below her hand. He slipped the end of the rope through an eye bolt and pulled her arm up till her hand was held high. He repeated this process with her other hand and both her ankles, until she was stretched wide and vulnerable in the wide archway.

Her feet were flat on the floor but once again the insides of her legs were spread uncomfortably wide. The muscles of her inner thighs were strained and trembling. His hand was warm as it caressed the taut flesh. "You will soon become more flexible missy, more pliant." A dry voice from deep in her psyche wondered if Mick understood the deeper meaning of his words or if he was repeating something he had heard.

He had to slip though the gap by her side to move through the archway to stand in front of her, his face close to hers. "Missy I am not sure how sound proof this basement it is. It is midday and I am sure you nosy neighbors are out working on their lawns and flower beds. You will need to be quiet."

"Yes Mick Sir. Would it be permitted to ask for the gag, please?"

"Perhaps later, missy that is enough talking for now. It is time to remember lesson one."

She almost acknowledged the command with spoken words but caught herself and nodded. He smiled and spoke. "Missy you spoke of regret and begged my forgiveness. It is not my forgiveness you need. You need to be able to forgive yourself. Maybe that is why you crave this." He caressed her face with the tails of the cat. "You wish to be punished, to be put through the fire and cleansed."

Missy thought, 'yes cleansed'. She leaned her face toward the tongues of the whip and kissed them reverently, seeing it as the key to her finding inner peace.

Mick's hand stilled and he murmured praise. "Such a good student. You know that this is the answer. You already sense how this will ease the pain in your heart and open your mind. It will calm your spirit."

Mick slipped back behind her again and lifted her hair and laid it over her shoulder. He stroked his hand down her back and across the swell of her ass. "Your back is flawless. It is most beautiful. I am almost reluctant to mark it, to make it mine." She felt his mouth trace down her spine, leaving a dozen warm soft kisses from her neck to the small of her back, each touch of his lips sending electric shocks through her.

She sensed his body tense and the movement and the sound of the tails of the whip swishing through the air. When it struck it made a soft slap against her skin. Her skin spoke of the impact, the pressure before she sensed the pain. It was sharp and hot at the same time, a lingering sting seemed to grow and then fade. Missy could tell that he was using the cat carefully, almost lightly.

Impatiently she made a soft whimper and arched her back, pulling at the ropes trying to reach out, pleading for the pain she craved.

The blows continued at a slow predictable rhythm, starting at her shoulder blades and working their way down her back and across the twitching muscles of her ass. The tongues licked around her thighs and even kissed her calves. Each blow carefully gauged to sting lightly and sensitize her skin.

She had continued to surge toward the sensation and her hair had fallen down her back again. Mick made an impatient sound and slipped past her body and went into the bathroom. He came back with a small handful of the rubber bands and roughly pulled her hair into a messy pony tail high on her head.

This time the swish the whip was faster and louder and sound of it hitting her back was a snap. The pain pierced into her, making her skin shudder. A tiny cry of pain and excitement was wrung from her lips and then she clenched her lips together.

Again the blows followed the same path down her body. The sting did not fade; her skin burned after each lash. She kept her lips shut, stifling her whimpers and moans, catching them in her mouth and letting them leak out her nose as she breathed deep puffing breaths through her flared nostrils. When he had scored the length of her body he paused and she finally let her body sag, her head sagging dragging deep breaths in through her open lips.

His voice pierced her heart. "Tell me how you are feeling missy."

Her voice was hoarse and vibrated with emotion. "Please, please Sir, I feel like I need more."

She could sense his body wind up and the whip whistled as it cut through the air. It cracked against her skin and a pain scorched through her mind and convulsed her body. She felt a shriek rise up and she tried to contain it but it burst out of her mouth, soft strangled scream punctuated by dam of her lips. The blows came slower, a pause between each to allow her body to stop its struggle against the ropes, letting her cries weaken and fade. Then another blow searing into her back and lighting up her brain and feeding the flames in her loins.

Her whole body felt like it was on fire. Tears were running down her face and she was struggling to control her sobs. And yet the flaming sensation in her skin seemed to feed the growing excitement in her soul, each flash of agony that made her jerk at the ropes and scream between her clenched teeth made her cunt clench and she could feel her moisture leaking out. When she looked down she could see a small splatter of fluids on the floor between her bound legs.

When the carefully paced blows reached her thighs and the tips of the cat snapped around her leg and cut into her inner thigh she had no will left to stop the raw scream tearing up from her core. She struggled against the ropes in a mindless panic. Again he waited her to calm before he struck again. Missy struggled to turn her head, to see his face. Her voice was raw, "Please, please... the gag please."

"Missy we are almost done. You can do this, only five more. Count with me."

Missy felt a wave of relief and curiously, disappointment. She felt an irrational impulse to beg for more than five. It was like she was so close to something and all she needed was pain to get there, more pain. It was like she wanted to be torn apart, shredded to pieces. She nodded obediently and counted with him, grating out each number and lunging violently against the ropes holding her fighting the pain and the screams she held captive inside her.

After five she hung, limp from her arms for a few minutes, sobbing brokenly. Now that it had ended, she felt bereft, abandoned. There was none of the euphoria she had felt after the other lessons of pain; all she felt was an all encompassing emptiness.

Mick slipped past her and stood before her once more. She labored to her feet and looked up at his enigmatic expression, her eyes wounds in her face. "Tell me how you are feeling missy."

"Oh Sir, I feel so sad and I don't know why. Always before I felt happy afterward, so calm and sure and happy. Now all I feel is sad."

"You have not forgiven yourself."

A convulsion of resistance shook her. She shook her head violently. Her eyes flashed to his face and she whispered, "Who are you really? How can you know so much about what is inside my head?"

Mick smiled and shook his head. "I don't have a clue what is in there missy, all I can do is see the sadness in your eyes. I certainly have a better idea after seeing this crypt you live in."

Her voice was faint and far away. "Yes a crypt that's what it is." Then she shook her head again like she was trying to chase away unwanted thoughts and looked at him desperately, "Hit me some more, please Mick Sir I beg you, hit me some more."

He looked deep into her eyes and shook his head. "No missy, you have had enough."

She surged against the ropes and wailed, "Don't leave me like this!"

Mick covered her mouth with his hand. "Missy, remember your lessons."

She pressed her lips to his hand and fought down the panic. Her eyes locked on his. Only when she was still and nodded calmly against his hand did he release her. Her face was still steeped in grief and fear, but she was back in control.

"I will not leave you missy."

Tangling his hands in her hair and pressed his lips to hers. Kissing her until all the sadness in her eyes was replaced with the fog of lust. He slid down and gripped her hips, pressing his lips to her swollen and dripping flesh. As his tongue found her center he slid his fingers deep into her depths. Missy groaned and pushed her hips forward, impatient for the sensation, craving the bliss that she knew lay before her.

Her body undulated with the waves of pleasure expanding from her center, her moans soft and continual. "Yes, oh yes... don't stop." Then she fell silent and her whole body tensed and riding the sudden peak of sensation that pushed her over the edge. Again she hung from her wrists as her legs went limp under her, her hips jerking with each spasm of pleasure bursting through her.

Mick stood and put an arm around her waist and supported her until she could support her weight again. He untied her arms and legs and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed. Missy wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face against his chest. She knew better to keep her embrace once he laid her down, but it was hard to let go. Her hands slipped reluctantly from his neck as he laid her down and urged her damp and trembling body under the blankets.

"Missy, go to sleep for a while. I will wake you up in a little while."

She lay there, curled up under the covers, but sleep eluded her. She knew he was right. There was a deep sadness inside her. It had always been there. She had learned to avoid looking at it, to ignore its existence, and to just focus on the simple tasks of day to day survival. She had grown so adept at this denial she could go days, even weeks without remembering, telling herself she was just fine, that this was normal, that this was all she had a right to expect.

It shocked her to learn that it showed to the people around her, like a dirty secret you think you have well hidden that is common knowledge to anyone that cares to look at you. She suddenly felt naked and vulnerable. Her pain had shown all the time. Her careful life of denial and concealment had hidden nothing. Her sadness had been there on her face, in her eyes for everyone to see.

A thought rose to the surface of her misery. Missy was not sad. That was why she so insanely craved this boy. He made Sarah go away. He let missy out. And that was why she wanted him to hit her some more. If he could just hurt her enough, Sarah would never ever come back.

She hated Sarah, weak, timid, lonely Sarah. Nobody had time for Sarah. From her earliest memories everyone was busy. Her father was busy dying. Everyone was busy with their own pain and grief. Even her brother and sisters had been busy figuring how to escape that place. Her mother was wrapped up in her neat little perfect life of perfect hair, perfect clothing, perfect manners, perfectly arranged knickknacks, in her perfect house.

Sarah had been a ghost that wandered through that place, a glaring bundle of imperfections. Nothing she could do was just right; from her too brown, too straight hair to her imperfect posture, to her ridiculous tendency to move too quickly or to laugh or cry at the wrong things.

All her life, she accepted and owned that sense of never quite being perfect enough. She thought she had escaped it when she had left home. And she may have been successful if her fiancé had not been killed, if she had managed to stay away. But it seemed like this place had pulled her back. Mick had been right it was a crypt and it had trapped her within its walls. The only thing that had been left for her to do here now was to die.

Her only refuge had been to retreat into work, to become Miss Smith. Miss Smith was safe, sober, hard working. She was the first teacher in the building in the morning and the last one to leave, hours after the all the other teachers were gone. Miss Smith took her job way too seriously to socialize with the other teachers in the lounge or to go out for a drink after the students have gone home. It was one more way to control the sadness, to keep Sarah at bay.

But Mick had seen that sadness, but not just the sadness. He had seen something else, seen missy. He had woken that part of her with one touch. It had been a drug that eclipsed all others, never had she felt so free, so happy. Never had Sarah been so far, far away. She was instantly addicted.

She wondered where Mick was, what he was doing. He had laid her down, pulled the covers over her scored and welted skin, and told her to sleep. But sleep eluded her.

She lay curled up on her side. The skin of her back and buttocks stung and itched. Cautiously she ran her hand across her hip and the back of her thigh, flinching as she felt the tender almost raw skin. She wondered if it was possible to beat the sadness out of her or if that had been an illusion of her excited mind. She knew that while the pain flowed over and through her, all thought was gone, and the only emotions she seemed to feel were clean and sharp; fear, joy and lust... wild all encompassing raw primitive lust. The thought of it made her body clench and shudder with the power of the memory of it.

The sensations of the ropes on her, stretching and exposing her, his hands warm and irresistible, his penis penetrating her, even his mouth as it forced her responses all these things were nothing compared to the pain.

Mick's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Wake up missy. Get your ass into the kitchen and get started on dinner."

Missy had not ever made meat loaf. She had looked in one of her mother's old recipe books to find out what ingredients to buy. She was peering at the directions and carefully measuring the spices when Mick walked into the kitchen. She paused, a little unsure how she was supposed to act. Self conscious of her nudity and wondering if there was something she was supposed to say or do when he walked into a room where she was working. Her eyes darted toward him. A nervous shiver shook her.