The Master's Lessons Read Free Page A

for him to deliver far more
than that gentle touch.
    The headmaster
shrugged off his jacket, then loosened the top button of his
starched white shirt. “My dear Miss Montague,” he said hoarsely, “I
must confess that I find you eminently delectable – and, I am
afraid, most entirely spankable.”
    Cooper ran the
tip of his thumb across the small leather paddle at the end of the
crop; the paddle that she knew would soon be caressing the
sensitive skin of her buttocks. Overcome by the conflicted
sensations that now ruled her, Amelia’s head rolled to the side as
she gazed across at him in a mute appeal he clearly understood.
    “Indeed, my
dear; perhaps we should get down to business now. Stay as you are,
do you understand?”
    “Y-yes,
sir.”
    The corners of
his thin lips quirked back, and the unspoken tension between the
two of them intensified yet further when he rose to his feet again
and came to stand behind her. She closed her eyes tightly in
fearful anticipation of the first blow, but to her outraged
incredulity the headmaster slowly lifted her skirt and the
petticoat beneath to bunch around her waist.
    Yet somehow,
the words she wanted to say to stop him would not come. Instead,
Amelia found herself a powerless slave to the desire she felt for
him against her will; if this precursor to what was sure now to
follow was what Cooper wanted, then she would allow it. For reasons
she could not comprehend, this submission to the headmaster’s will
aroused her far more than anything she had ever felt before.
    He inhaled
sharply when she pushed back against him, revelling in the line of
fire he left beneath his hands as they glided across the thin silk
of her stockings and came to rest on the sensitive skin of the
inside of her thighs, pulling them further apart then skimming over
the damp outline of her cunt. Amelia knew he must surely have
realised how aroused his stolen caresses had left her, but he
passed no comment on it. Instead, he rested the palm of his left
hand on her buttocks, and the warmth of his skin against hers made
her realise how ill-equipped her summer bloomers were to defend her
against the blows that were soon to come. The light cotton was so
thin as to be negligible.
    Cooper seemed
to have reached the same conclusion, for before he drew the crop
back he gently touched the side of her free face to seek her
attention. “I will not be too rough with you, Miss Montague; I will
deliver nothing I think you unable to bear. Cry out if it eases
your pain, for here in the cottage none will hear you but I.”
    And with that
ominous promise, he struck.
    Amelia had
never been whipped before – a handful of gentle spankings as a
misbehaving child were the full extent of the corporal punishment
she had received before today. The sharp and stinging pain caught
her unawares, and she did cry out loudly into the polished wood of
the desktop, her startled moan in time with the second crack of the
whip as the leather found its target. As the pain faded each time,
though, something far more powerful and pleasurable forcibly arose
to stake its claim on her. Each time she clenched and released
against the pain, the blazing fire that Cooper had awoken inside
her was stoked further. Her body burned from head to toe with a
desperate arousal, one that could be satisfied by only one
person.
    He seemed to be
unaware as yet of her unexpected reaction to the punishment he was
meting out, though his breath had grown shallower still as he
delivered blow after blow with the riding crop. He switched between
each cheek in a steady, effortless rhythm, waiting until the skin
flamed beneath the firm blows he rained down before turning his
attention to the other and allowing the tender flesh a chance to
recover. Each time that he did, though, the precipice of ecstasy
Amelia found herself upon receded, and when the tension slipped
away only to build once more, she could withstand it no longer.
    “S-sir,” she
gasped, twisting her head