CHAPTER TWELVE
Striding through the Seattle-Tacoma airport in her blue airport uniform, Captain Amanda Sumner moved through the crowd like Moses parting the waters. Seeing the serious look on the tall pilot’s face, people moved out of her way without question. They assumed that she was probably on her way to command one of the long range 747-400’s waiting at one of the many gates for a flight across the Pacific. In actuality, she was an instructor pilot, who simply hit a ride to Sea-Tac in the jumpseat of a regular flight from Minneapolis. There wasn’t a pilot in the air who wouldn’t offer a professional courtesy ride to the attractive and impressive Captain Sumner. Indeed, many of them had been her students at one time or another.
Her aristocratic features were nicely framed by her auburn hair that she kept at slightly less than shoulder length. When she was working, she often pinned it up to look more professional, but then her delicate neck was revealed which at least partly defeated her purpose. Her six foot frame moved with an unusual grace and beneath her uniform was an attractively lean figure which on several occasions had caused her to be mistaken for various woman athletes.
A small suitcase trailed behind her on a collapsed cart as she made her way to the rental car desk. The clerk at the rental counter responded like a well trained soldier as she snapped out her orders. “I need a mid-sized car with a full tank and I need it now, if you please.” She tossed her car rental card onto the counter and waited silently while the clerk convinced with his computer.
“Why don’t you wait right here, ma’am?” the clerk said. “I’ll have the car brought up to the door so you don’t have to wait for the shutt bus.”
Her car appeared at the door within five minutes and she was soon immersed in the Saturday afternoon madness of Seattle traffic. She drove North on Interstate 5 and turned right at Southcenter to follow I-405 along the Eastern shore of Lake Washington. Her driving demonstrated an uncanny precision as she instinctively calculated the safest position in the traffic stream.
She took the Parkway to an upscale neighborhood of large houses nearly hidden in a forest of evergreens. Finding the one she was looking for, she pulled into the private driveway and parked her rental car near the front door. Retrieving her suitcase from the backseat, she carried it to the front door and rang the bell. The door was instantly opened halfway by a stunningly beautiful woman with long curly brown hair who looked like she spent half her life maintaining her hairstyle. The woman peered around the door to examine the visitor.
“Hi, I’m here to see Master Cole.”
As they made eye contact, the woman said warmly, “Hi, you must be Amanda. Please come in and Follow me.”
Amanda followed her in and immediately noticed that the woman was wearing a most unusual dress. Her breasts were completely exposed in the style of ancient Minoan women and her skirt was divided up the back all the way to the waist. Amanda’s nearly photographic memory immediately made the connection as she remembered the dress from “The Story of O”. The women of Roissy had defeat dresses like that to make themselves available to the men at all times. If Amanda was right, the dress would also be slit to the waist in front.
This has got to be the famous Monica, she thought, as they made their way to one of the bedrooms. When they entered the spacious guest room, Monica turned around and Amanda could see that the dress was indeed slit up the front to reveal her smooth pubis. On Monica the dress wasn’t the least bit tacky, she looked like she had been born to wear it.
“Welcome to our home, my name is Monica and I’m to help prepare you for your appointment later today.”
“Nice to finally meet you. Love the dress,” she said shyly as some of her professional demeanor slipped away. “Master Cole was lucky to find you. And I’m lucky that he’s still available. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“I think I might have some idea,” Monica said with a sly grin in her voice. “Let’s got started. You have about two hours before your appointment and we need to get you all cleaned up and relaxed. Put your clothes over there and I’ll take care of them.”
While Monica filled the large tub, Amanda undressed, already feeling slightly submissive. She allowed Monica to take her by the hand and guide her to the large triangular tub which was almost filled with hot water and heaps of bubbles. She entered the water slowly and was told to sit with her back to the room. She was handed a razor and told to shake herself in whatever manner she preferred. Monica pulled up a small stool, sat down behind her and started massaging her shoulders.
After several minutes, while Amanda was shaving her legs, Monica turned a knob which started gentle jets of hot water pulsing and shifting under the surface. Amanda left her pubic hair untouched. The short auburn patch was soft and inviting, more a decoration than a hindrance to access.
“Master Cole hates the smell of cigarette smoke and you have a little in your hair. Lean your head back and I’ll wash it for you.”
Amanda was becoming more and more relaxed as she let Monica take charge. When the bath was over, Amanda was told to stand still While Monica shunned her dry. A small hair dryer was used to dry her straight auburn hair while Monica used a comb to curl a little shape into it.
Monica compiled her as she worked, “Your hair is such a pretty color, I love that light auburn. It’s very striking with your blue eyes.”
When they were finished, Monica told her to lay face down on the bed and buckled a pair of leather cuffs on her wrists. They were locked behind her back with a small padlock. Monica took a moment to study Amanda’s figure. Although she had an athletic physique, Amanda had very prettyhips which were slightly narrow and well formed breasts that were just a bit small for her tall body. Her stomach was lean and hard from untold hours of exercise and her long, athletic legs didn’t have an ounce of extra weight. With her height, she could have been a fashion model, but her facial features, while pleasant, were not classically beautiful. Monica noticed distinct areas of paleness from a conservative swimsuit, which she found rather charming.
Covering her with a sheet and blanket, Monica told her warmly, “You have an hour to rest now. You can sleep if you like, I’ll wake you at the right time.”
Lying on her left side, warm, naked and with her hands locked behind her, Amanda felt quite safe and secure. She drifted off into a light sleep marked by short dreams from her past.
Amanda Sumner spends her childhood as a military brat with one younger brother. Both of her parents were Air Force officers and her life was in constant turmoil. They never stayed in one place for more than three years and on one occasion, they moved twice in a single ten month period. Many of the normal experiences of children were missed. Amanda had to grow up largely on her own, taking responsibility not just for herself, but for her parent’s reputation. She knew that her parent’s chances for promotion depended to some degree on their ability to keep their children from causing trouble on the base. Unfortunately, this did not always offset her headstrong nature.
The family still loved to talk about the three years that they had been stationed at an airbase in Southern England. Amanda’s parents took advantage of the opportunity to send their some rebellious daughter to an English private school for girls.
They had hoped that the strict discipline would help their daughter mature faster and in a way it did. She still dreamed of the day when she had been given the option of being reported to her parents or receiving a spanking. What could have been merely an embarrassing memory turned into a serious relationship with a much older man. Contradicting the stereotype of the abusive male teacher, he turned out to be a warm and caring friend. She was almost eighteen when she graduated with the equivalent of a high school diploma. Her parents sent her back to the states alone to attend college. In many respects, Amanda was forced to assume adult responsibility before she had a chance to enjoy being a child.
When she graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Aeronautical Engineering, she applied to the Air Force and was accepted for pilot training. When she left the Air Force six years later, she was one of the top rated pilots of C141 Starlifters. She loved flying the massive military transports and would have continued, but she was starting to realize that she needed something that was not going to be available to her there.
Something in her genes or in her childhood development caused her to crave sexual domination by a man.At age thirty three, her current job as an instructor pilot was only making that need worse. Riding herd on a class of egotistic student pilots required her to maintain a dominant attitude full time. If any of her students smelled the slightest hint that she was submissive, it would cause serious problems. She was particularly wary with the foreign pilots, who had little respect for women in general and deeply resented being under the control of a woman instructor.
Fortunately, as a civilian she had considered freedom to explore on her own time. Taking to the internet, she discovered an online forum for people interested in dominance and submission. It didn’t take long for her to understand that her need to submit was tied in with her desire to be a little girl again. It seemed to be a fairly common combination of fetishes. She had no trouble meeting eligible men on-line, but after meeting with and sometimes trying to submit to an endless series of potential partners, she hadNot found anyone who met her high standards.
Three months ago, she heard about Cole from a friend who told her of a man who was a professional dominant for women only. She quickly contacted him by email. He explained that he had recently found his submissive soulmate and was not available at the moment. When she received an email indicating that he was now available with his beloved Monica acting as his assistant, Amanda was extremely excited. She hoped that his professional services might help fill a very large emptiness in her life, at least for a little while.
She had done enough checking to feel safe and finally meeting Monica had allowed her to fully relax and enter the submissive mental state that she so deeply desired. Their play session had been planned well in advance and she trusted Master Cole to carry it out safely.
Amanda awoke to a hand gently shaking her shoulder and Monica’s soft voice calling her name. Monica was now wearing a businesslike outfit ofdark slacks and a beige blouse. Amanda waited a moment while Monica unlocked the wrist cuffs, then rose from the bed and stood perfectly still as directed while Monica dressed her. The outfit consisted of a short plaid skirt over plain white cotton panties and a simple white shirt. In short, a schoolgirl’s uniform. Amanda took the pair of white knee socks she was offered and pulled them up over her long, smoothly muscled calves.
The leather cuffs were replaced and fastened behind her back again. Still without shoes, she was led down the hall into an office, where Howard Cole sat behind a large desk. Monica made the formal introduction as she handed him a folded piece of white paper.
“Headmaster Cole, this is Amanda Sumner, the girl who has been causing all the trouble. Here is a note from her teacher, Mrs. Krebbins, describing her offenses.”
Amanda stood before the desk and took note of Cole’s sinister look, which was created by the well sculpted dark bear and mustache. He was wearing a dark suit and looking directly into her eyes. The effect was exactly what she imagined it would be like. She looked at the floor and trembled as he read the note.
“Well, well. It looks like you’ve really done it this time, Amanda. Mrs. K says you’ve been smoking in the girls lavatory again, is that true?”
“Yes, Sir, but I only did it a few times!”
“And… she says that you were caught cheating on the biology test this morning. Is this true also?”
“I’m sorry sir, I can’t afford a bad grade this term.”
“As you well know, you’ve been punished for both of these offenses before, so your punishment today will have to be most severe. Are you prepared to submit yourself for punishment?”
“Yes, Headmaster, I’ll take whatever you think I deserve. Just don’t tell my parents, please.” She was beginning to shiver with anticipation.
“You will follow my assistant to the punishment room immediately. Please prepare her to receive the most severe chatisement, Miss Martinet.”
Amanda meekly followed “Miss Martinet” down the stairs and into the dungeon. On its hardwood floors were several well used pieces of sports equipment and it now resembled a small school gymnasium. They passed a pair of uneven bars used by gymnasts and walked up to a vaulting horse with a smooth, uninterrupted leather top. It appeared to be quite real and very old.
She was told to stop with her hips pressing up against one end of the vaulting horse and Monica unfasted the padlock that held her cuffs together. Amanda’s freedom lasted only a few seconds, as the cuffs were swiftly attached to rings in the far legs of the horse. This forced her to bend along the length of the horse, which had, oddly enough, been set at the precision height for her to accomplish this with her toes still in contact with the floor.
Amanda did not offer the slightest resistance. The compelling nature of her fantasy forced her to go through the steps as if shewere a maronette. She moved her hips to allow Monica to slide the white cotton panties down her legs and obediently lifted one foot at a time so that they could be removed entirely.
She imagined what she must look like, in her school uniform, with her bottom covered only by her skirt which could be raised at any moment. A thrill shot through her body that made it hard to breathe for a moment. It seemed that she was back in her girlhood, magically reliving an intense moment from her past. She was determined to savor every second of it.
Another pair of the ubiquitous leather cuffs was placed on her ankles and they were swiftly attached to the legs of the horse, forcing her feet well apart. Her little plaid skirt rode up in the back, exposing most of her long, athletic thighs. Beneath the white knee socks, her calves were stretched into a delightfully curvy shape by the extension of her feet to reach the floor.
Lying over the fragment leather platform, Amanda could feel herself becoming aroused as her fantasy became reality. It was like being in an erotic dream. She heard the Headmaster, Mr. Cole walk up to her holding the bent handle of a traditional English school cane. He spoke to her in a very stern tone.
“Amanda, you’ve been warned about this sort of behavior before. You’ve been punished several times by Mrs. Krebbins and once by myself. Yet you persist in ignoring Your responsibilities. We don’t allow that here, you know.”
“I know that you’re an old bastard who likes hurting helpless girls! You should be ashamed of yourself,” she cried out while struggling against the invincible leather cuffs.
“Now you’ve done it, you little tramp,” he said angrily, “I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget, but first we Need to keep that naughty little bottom from wiggling around too much.”
The Headmaster picked up a long leather belt with a struggle buckle and wrapped it completely around Amanda and the vaulting horse. PositiOning it at her waist, he pulled it tight and secured the buckle. Amanda’s potential for movement was now limited to making futile head motions. Her body was held significantly in a perfect position for severe punishment.
She could feel the cool air on her pantyless hindquarters as her plaid schoolgirl’s skirt was slowly raised and laid gently on her back. The Headmaster stood to her left and placed the rattan cane across her pale rounded bottom to measure the distance. The tan lines from her swimsuit helped him align the cane for optimum impact. He selected a spot just above the moist slit of her womanhood where the plump bottom flesh could absorb the hardest stroke. The bending position stretched her legs and buttocks, which would increase the effects of her punishment.
Amanda took a deep breath and tried not to grin. I haven’t been this turned on in years, she thought. The only warning she received was the whoosh of the cane through the air as it exploded on the lower curve ofher ass. The pain was intense, but a bit less than she had remembered. She almost cried out in happiness, but the next stroke had already been delivered and it traced a line of fire across her posterior, slightly higher than the first stroke. She sucked in a large breath and let it out with a groan.
The next dozen strokes drew perfectly parallel lines across her white buttocks and each line was made up of a set of twin red welts. The pain was beginning to make itself felt as a warm tingling in her exposed cunt, which was barely covered by her downy soft public hair. She wondered if the Headmaster could see the wetness between her forcibly parted legs.
“Is that the best you can do, old goat?” she yelled over her shoulder.
“I’d say that sounds like a challenge, you insolent little trollop! Let me get something that might create a little more respect,” he said angrily. “Don’t go away,” he added in an oddly pleasant tone.
He returned in a moment bearing a straight cane that was nearly four feet long. It was made of a white material that looked like plastic. Amanda was not impressed.
The Headmaster took his position to the left of her striped bottom and said in a friendly voice, “Let’s try this pretty white cane, shall we? Perhaps you’ll learn to address me in a more appropriate manner.”
She tried to look behind her to see him swing the unusual white cane, but her range of movement was insufficient. She heard a rather quiet rush of air, much less dramatic than the rattan cane. Suddenly, both hemispheres of her proud bottom felt like they had burst from within and blown themselves to pieces in a white hot blast. She was unable to suppress a shrink scream that tore itself from her throat.
“Ah, I see that got your attention. Let me tell you what’s going to happen next, Amanda.”
He moved around so that he could speak directly to her face and placed a firm hand on her back. She could feel the warmth through the white fabric of the simple shirt. Her eyes were still wide with shock and she felt a bit stunned. She thought vaguely of trying to free herself but had no strength to attempt an escape.
He was almost whispering now, “Amanda, I’m going to cane you like a naughty, rebellious schoolgirl until you agree to submit completely. I will not stop until you say that you’ll do anything I ask of you. When that moment comes, I will no longer consider you a schoolgirl. You’ll be a mature, submissive woman and I expect you to prove it. I plan to ask you to engage in a sexual act that will require great trust and total submission from you.”
She watched him stand up and return to his post at the end of the vaulting horse. The next stroke of the terrible white cane landed high on the upper curves of her abused bottom. The pain was excruciating, but she was not about to submit to the Headmaster’s evil demands. She screamed louder with each blow. After each one he asked, “Are you ready to submit?”
After ten of the increasing slashes, her will was broken and she began a quiet sobbing. The Headmaster dropped the big cane and came around to speak with her again.
“Are you ready to submit, Amanda?”
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