Naughty Naomi

This is obviously a work of fantasy, not logic - be nice to each other. And read the first two parts if you like - it all follows on.

Naomi stood in front of Christina, blue eyes downcast, her thick, chestnut hair shading her face from Christina's stern glare. They were in the study of Christina's home.

"Say that again, please," Christina commanded, the 38-year old redhead drawing herself up to her full 5'8", her 30F-30-39 curves looking mouth-watering in the black, lacy lingerie set she was wearing - seamed stockings with suspender belt, bikini-style silk panties with lacy trim, a bra which presented her enormous boobs to their best advantage.

"I said, yes, I do deserve to be punished." Naomi played the part of penitent very well - her tone in no way suggesting that any punishment was relished rather than feared. The 22-year old, both secretary and lover to Christina, was 3½"s shorter than the statuesque redhead, which made her ridiculous curves even more eye-catching. At the moment, Naomi's 32F-27-38 body was clad in a parody of a school uniform - white knee-socks, full-cut, white cotton panties, a short, pleated navy skirt and a white blouse with a tie. The blouse was the right size for her waist, but not for her huge boobs, which strained against the thin material. At the moment, however, neither Naomi's panties nor her socks were fully white. Nor were they fully dry.

"And how do you deserve to be punished, Naomi?" This was a game with two delighted participants and only one possible outcome, but both women loved every second of it and saw no need to hurry.

"I deserve to be spanked."

"Only spanked?"

"No. Spanked and whipped and caned, Ms Holloway." Naomi's big eyes started to sparkle with a hint of tears. This may have been a game, but it was designed to heighten her feelings of shame and Christina's feelings of dominance, and the emotion and pleasure was genuine.

"And how should I do that?"

"Hard. On my bottom." Naomi paused, then added: "Very hard."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because I wet my panties." Christina's gaze fell to look below Naomi's waist. There were a few droplets of moisture on her inner thighs, but the biggest sign was the fact that her socks were soaked, with yellowish stains running down to her feet.

"Show me." With seeming reluctance, Naomi gathered up the hem of her short skirt and raised it so that the front of her clearly pissed in panties was available for her mistress to see - the wet cotton clinging to her recently shaved pussy, the contours and lips of her cunt clear through the warm, wet material. She twisted, showing her full bottom to the redhead so that the wet patch which encased her soft cheeks could be seen. "So you have. Well, you're right - naughty girls wet their knickers and in this house naughty girls get punished."

Christina circled her young prey, pacing slowly, making her wait. She knew that Naomi loved the anticipation as much as the act - that was how she'd discovered her love of using her panties as a toilet after all, as she loved to wait and wait until she was desperate. The voluptuous brunette had also developed a love of being punished too, but liked the delay, the build-up, too. She could see Naomi's nipples, hard as bullets, poking against the blouse, and she knew that the gusset of Naomi's knickers would have been soaked even if she had not deliberately wet herself after breakfast. This was the first day the two had enjoyed together since Naomi moved her things in, making public their relationship, if not what else they got up to. It'd been a frantic two weeks since the first time they awoke together in Christina's pee-wet bed and admitted they wanted to awaken together every day. They'd discussed what had happened between them, what they wanted to happen, how their increasingly disgusting fantasies were intertwining, and were overjoyed to find that neither repelled the other - they simply adored, desired and loved each other. But this love was shown in unconventional ways...

Stopping her pacing in front of Naomi, Christina took the shorter girl's chin and tilted her head back to look at her face. Two pairs of blue eyes met, passion and anticipation flickering across them. With an open palm, Christina suddenly slapped Naomi across her left cheek, rocking the brunette back and making her gasp. "You're not just a naughty girl, though, are you Naomi?" Christina's tone was assertive but full of lust. With her other hand she delivered a slap to Naomi's right cheek, the blow bringing tears to her eyes. "What else are you?"

"I'm a dirty girl," Naomi whispered. Christina gripped each of Naomi's nipples through her blouse, twisting them roughly, eliciting a moan from her lover.

"Why do you say that?"

"I didn't pee myself by accident. It was on purpose. I like peeing myself." Christina continued to maul Naomi's big, soft tits.

"On purpose?! What sort of dirty, disgusting slut pisses her panties on purpose?"

"I do, Ms Holloway. I love it. I love the smell. I love being dirty." Naomi moaned again as her nipples were twisted and squeezed.

"You're just a naughty, dirty little slut," hissed Christina, stopping tweaking Naomi's boobs long enough to slap her hard across the face again. "Dirty. Naughty. Slut." Each of these last three words was punctuated by her spitting into Naomi's face, her saliva spattering over the pretty 22-year old face before slowly dripping to wet the blouse material that was stretched over Naomi's heavy breasts. She moaned as the spittle dripped from her chin, lost in lust.

Gripping her shoulder, Christina turned and shoved Naomi so that she faced into and fell across her desk. Naomi needed no prompting to assume the position, bending at her waist to lay her upper body over the desktop, boobs squashed against the surface, nipples buzzing against the cold wood, lower back arched to thrust her shapely bottom out, legs slightly spread. Christina flipped the navy skirt up over her back to show Naomi's pissy knickers and bottom to the room.

Stepping back and to the side, Christina took a moment to examine Naomi's bottom, ogling the soft, round, milky cheeks, currently encased in wee-stained panties. She seemed to absorb punishment almost supernaturally well, rarely carrying marks for more than a couple of days. Although Naomi would have been happy to be caned thrice daily, Christina moderated the punishments as she liked a blank canvas to work on. That said, only once in the last two weeks had Naomi not at the very least taken a long, hard hand spanking, as the two lovers settled into a pattern. As in the first two weeks they'd been in this relationship, Naomi still reported to Christina at the end of each working day and almost always ended up over her knee or bent across the desk. Until last night when Naomi had moved in, they'd been spending all weekend together anyway, and over Saturday and Sunday the curvy brunette could usually expect at least four spankings!

Christina's large boobs rose as she drew in a deep breath. She wanted to unleash a flurry of spanks, but they had all day today - no need to rush things. She knew Naomi would be in an agony of suspense, and thought she'd let her stew for a bit longer as she looked at her lovely bottom, round thighs and shapely calves as they descended into her wet socks. She loved every inch of Naomi's body, and liked to just watch her, particularly when she was on edge, waiting for a spanking or about to wet herself, or worse. Delicately, she stroked the tips of her fingers across her lover's bottom, tracing patterns on the soft, warm flesh, before feeling the damp, pee-stained cotton. Reflexively she sniffed at her fingers, finding the scent of Naomi's urine oddly arousing.

The first spank jolted Naomi forwards across the desk, drawing a gasp from her. The second fell almost instantly, crisply cracking across the other cheek. She braced for a third, but the smacks stopped as soon as they'd started. "No warm up spanking today, I think," murmured Christina. "Dirty girls who pee themselves on purpose need to be dealt with sternly, don't you agree?"

"Wh-whatever you say, Miss." Christina took a man's leather belt from a pile of implements in an armchair in the room, and folded it over, holding the buckle and testing the whipping action. Christina smiled cruelly, as she knew Naomi would be in turmoil, not knowing exactly what pain to prepare for - the solid thwap of the paddle, the sting of the cane, or...

She whipped her arm downwards, the leather belt curling across Naomi's wide cheeks with a sharp slap. The wet cotton of her panties protected her slightly, but a pink stripe showed on her cheeks where the belt had connected. Again the belt descended, higher up this time where no flesh was exposed, but the sharp crack and waggle of the brunette's hips betrayed the fact that her knickers were scant protection.

"Oooohh!" breathed Naomi as the third blow whipped over her round, pinkening bottom, and a fourth followed, this time slapping home on the tender undercurve of her full rear end, eliciting a higher pitched cry from her. Her knees sagged for a moment, but before Christina could instruct her she straightened her legs, once more presenting her bottom for the belt.

Naomi's cheeks flattened and wobbled under the fifth and sixth smacks from the belt, and with a choked sob she started to cry. Her cheeks were stinging, and the humiliation of her position - bent forward over her lover's desk, knickers and socks damp with her own deliberately released piss, face and blouse-front covered in saliva where she'd been spit upon, buttocks eagerly presented for a painful whipping - was arousing and embarrassing in equal measure, just as she loved. More blows fell, Christina expertly covering the 22-year old's whole bottom, the flesh under her panties a hot pink, the outer edges and undercurve a much hotter red. Her well-beaten bottom swayed from side to side as she flexed her hips, wanting to escape the pain and wanting it to continue. Her flesh rippled under a particularly hard blow and she threw her head back and yelped in pain, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Now, let's do this properly," Christina said calmly, before pulling the soggy knickers down around Naomi's chubby thighs, exposing the anguished bottom fully. Two more blows scythed down, the leather whipping and curling over the tender buttocks, the now-scarlet globes writhing. Three more times the belt whistled, the blow cracked, Naomi screeched. Her feet were treading in the carpet, her bottom wiggling alluringly, her scorched cheeks a flaming red, her pussy a hot, sticky sign of the perverse enjoyment the punishing spanks gave her.

SWISH-SPANK! "Ooooowww!" wailed Naomi. Then, quietly, before the next blow: "Harder!"

SWISH-CRACK! "Aaaaghh...harder!"

SWISSSHH-SPANKK!! "Arrrgghh! Please, again!"

They continued, Naomi crying, screaming and then begging for another lash. Christina indulged her, but eased off slightly. She knew Naomi's desires could lead her too far, and didn't want to cause more permanent damage to her lover's bottom, which was already glowing a red more fiery than Christina's hair and was lined with painful weals (although she knew Naomi's seeming super-recovering bottom would see them fade by bedtime!). The swollen, flaming cheeks took lash after lash, the blows covering, criss-crossing and re-covering her tortured nates, the odd one whipping her upper thighs, making her scream a pitch higher, but not stopping her begging for another, occasionally gasping "I'm bad, I'm naughty" under her breath like a twisted mantra.

"Last one," the redhead advised, before bringing her arm down as fast as she could, smiling at the broken wail this brought forth as Naomi jerked over the desk then collapsed weakly, legs sagging, letting the desk take her weight. Her chest heaved as she cried, sobbing, face a mess of spit, tears and smeared make-up, breasts heavy and tingling with excitement, bottom and thighs on fire. She roughly hauled the damp knickers back up, letting the elastic snap them back into place, producing another cry of pain from Naomi, although the now-cold pee that dampened her panties did a little to cool the fire in her cheeks.

Christina stood back, admiring her handiwork. The gusset of her own panties was soaking but she didn't want to orgasm just yet. She told Naomi to stand up and turn around, which the soundly-thrashed girl did. Christina always felt that her secretary looked at her most beautiful when she had tears running down her cheeks, as she now did, and felt another twinge in her pussy as she looked at Naomi's boobs, the nipples poking through the material that was still damp with Christina's spit. "Go stand in the corner, you dirty little girl. I'll tell you when you can move again." Nodding, snuffling, Naomi walked over to stand in her appointed 'naughty corner', facing the wall, skirt tucked slightly into the back of her panties so that her full, scarlet cheeks were on show.

After a few minutes, Naomi had stopped crying and had discreetly wiped the tears and saliva from her face. The cheeks on her face no longer stung where Christina had slapped her, but the stinging in her sore bottom would not disappear any time soon - her buttocks were swollen and throbbing with a stinging ache. She also knew that she was on the edge of orgasm - the slightest touch to her clit and she'd come on the spot. She idly wondered if she could achieve an orgasm just by being spanked - given how much she loved it and was turned on by it, it seemed possible, but she knew Christina held back from being too harsh with her. Maybe she'd have to provoke her one time...

Meanwhile, Christina sat in an armchair, alternating between gazing at Naomi's behind and browsing on her tablet. She was also thinking through a fantasy, but it was not something that she and Naomi could do alone - it needed a third. She was trying to find out what the best approach was, and was lurking on some chatrooms whilst also looking at some escort sites. Every few minutes she'd stroke herself, keeping her arousal at a plateau, always excited, not quite orgasmic. Her face was flushed, her nipples erect, her cunt wet, but she was patient and wanted to prolong the fun. Christina was pulled from her musings by an unexpected sound - a knock at the front door. Cursing and frowning, she told Naomi to stay where she was as she pulled a robe over her lingerie and headed down the hall. She assumed it'd just be the post, and was certainly not prepared for the person on her doorstep.

19-year old Chloe Edwards was a pupil at the academy, and was well known to Christina - her name appeared in the Discipline Record more often than any other student's and barely three days went by without her bending over to receive the stinging smack of one implement or other. Standing 5'3" she was a pretty, pixie-ish girl with a slim 32B-24-34 figure, though her bottom was amazingly curved with very enticing plump cheeks. Her smooth, long hair was a coppery ginger, her eyes a sparkling blue, her skin very pale with a hint of pinkness. Chloe's expression, when Christina answered the door to her, was her perpetual one - a twinkling, slightly knowing, mischievous one. She smiled at her headmistress, lips a glossy red (wearing too much make-up had been responsible for more than one of her past punishments). She was wearing very tight blue jeans and a simple grey vest with a pink cardigan. "Hi, Miss," she grinned.

"Chloe, it's...the weekend." Christina's somewhat redundant statement just hung there for a moment. Her normally dominant demeanour was off balance as finding a pupil at her door when her secretary/lover was in the house with a red bottom and wet knickers had knocked her composure. She was also wearing unusually erotic lingerie for a Saturday morning beneath her robe, a glimpse of which would be known all over the school if Chloe should catch sight of it. Mentally admonishing herself, Christina became Ms Holloway. "By which I mean, what are you doing on my doorstep?"

All of a sudden, Chloe looked slightly bashful and cast her eyes downward. "What it is, Miss, is my mum asked me to come over and give you this." The teenager offered an envelope, which Christina accepted with a puzzled frown. Opening it, she pulled out a brief, hand-written note, which said:

Dear Ms Holloway

I am sorry to disrupt your weekend but, as you know from her time at your academy, Chloe is a wilful and naughty girl and I fear that the discipline she receives during the week is not enough to change her ways, so I hoped I could impose on you to give her a good thrashing at the weekend? I appreciate this may be inconvenient, but hope that you can find the time.

Yours

Betty Edwards

Christina read the note again, blue eyes narrowing. "Step inside, Chloe," she instructed, closing the door and leaving the two of them in the hallway. She'd long suspected that the punishments she handed out to Chloe were not a deterrent, and that the young redhead was deliberately disobeying rules to earn a red bottom. Much like Naomi, she assumed, the girl enjoyed the experience. However this action, actually coming to her personal space, her home, was an unexpected escalation. Her mind worked furiously as the scales of lust versus risk to her career were balanced in her mind. All the while Chloe stood silently in front of her, not looking around. Christina resolved on a course of action, knowing that there was no way back after the second or third step down this path. Oh well, she thought, let's go!

"Tell me, Chloe, how many pieces of your work have I checked in the last 18 months?"

"Ummm...I dunno, Miss. I guess, lots?"

"Yes, indeed, lots. And do I seem like the sort of person who doesn't pay attention?"

"No, Miss."

"So, Chloe - didn't you think I'd recognise your handwriting?" The young girl suddenly blushed and her breath quickened. She offered no reply, so Christina continued. "Of course, I do. Which means your mother has nothing to do with you being here. You've come to my house to ask me to punish you because you enjoy it. Haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU?!" Chloe recoiled at the suddenly raised voice, but briefly raised her eyes, two pairs of blue eyes, two redheads, looked at each other momentarily and she nodded briefly before looking back at the carpet beneath her feet. "This puts me in an awkward position, Chloe. Have you considered how it would look to the parents at my school if it turned out I had a student in my house and was spanking her because she enjoyed it? How that would seem?"

"I wouldn't say anything, Miss," Chloe said, meekly.

"But these things can be discovered, can't they? Can I trust that you'd say nothing? Can I trust that, Chloe?"

"Oh, yes, I promise, Miss! But I am bad and I need you to punish me like you do at school."

Christina was taken aback by the sheer hunger in Chloe's statement - she really did desperately want to be disciplined. Still, she needed to assert her control over this incredible situation. "But what would I get from this, Chloe? You ask me to give up my time and risk my career just because you want someone to whip your naughty bottom. Why would I do that?"

Chloe looked at her now, full in the face, earnest, imploring. "I'd do anything, Miss. Anything at all. Just, please, I want to be punished. I want you to make me cry."

Naomi could hear none of this, even when Christina raised her voice. She knew that someone had been welcomed inside and a conversation was being had, but unidentifiable murmurs were all her ears detected. So she did as she should, stayed in her corner and contemplated her sore bottom.

Back in the hall, Christina raised a delicate eyebrow. "Anything? That covers a lot of ground, Chloe. What are you saying?"

"Just what I said, Miss. I want you to really punish me, I want you to cane me so that I'm crying. A lot of the girls think you really enjoy caning us, that that's why you set up the academy. So, if you do, if...if you like girls, then you can do anything you want with me. Just, please, spank my bottom." Chloe blushed during this little speech and again looked at the floor.