As intimated by my little paean to the lovely Maria Sharapova, I am not ashamed to admit that I have a decided appreciation of the female form and more than a little curiosity about matters Sapphic. Kinky little madam that I am, this attraction often mixes with certain, let’s say, ‘non-vanilla’ impulses and means that I often have fantasies about other women in which roleplay, domination, bondage and punishment feature heavily. Very much like the sexy tales my naughty friend Elizabeth features on her blog, in fact. I’m a bit of a switch (though I don’t get to top my Better Half in real life) so sometimes I’m top in my fantasies, sometimes bottom. (Most times bottom, if I must be strictly honest).
I’ll write about my fantasies from time to time here – my job is to entertain and titillate, after all – and perhaps pen a few naughty stories about Penny the schoolgirl’s encounters with her female teachers. But for today, I’ll return to the beautiful sport of tennis and the even more beautiful Miss Sharapova.
I’ll write about my fantasies from time to time here – my job is to entertain and titillate, after all – and perhaps pen a few naughty stories about Penny the schoolgirl’s encounters with her female teachers. But for today, I’ll return to the beautiful sport of tennis and the even more beautiful Miss Sharapova.
There was no doubt who wore the trousers in our relationship. My lover, Maria. She was my everything: beautiful, kind, and nurturing. And she liked to remind me, very often, that she was in charge.
I stood before her, my eyes fixed on my feet, not daring to look at her angry face. I had displeased her, and I knew I deserved to be punished.
“I won’t tell you again,” she warned. “Over my knee.”
I flicked my gaze upwards for the briefest moment, catching a glimpse of her heavenly eyes and her icy-stern expression. Butterflies fluttering inside me, I timidly obeyed her command and draped myself across her lap. In a moment my little skirt was flipped up and my panties pulled down, and before I could say “I’m sorry, Maria!” my bottom was being swatted a stinging pink. Oh, but Maria spanks so hard!
“Ow! Oh, please, Maria!” I yelped, kicking my feet pathetically, looking and feeling every inch the naughty little girl over her authoritative lover’s knee. “I’m s-sorry!”
“That’s Miss Sharapova to you, brat!” she scolded.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Ow! Yes, Miss Sharapova! Ow! Ooh!”
That afternoon Maria taught me a badly-needed lesson in obedience, and I thanked her humbly and attentively when she gave me permission to kneel at her feet and make amends.
“Ohhh... what a good little slut you are,” she purred, stroking my hair as I hungrily worshipped her. “I’ll have to give you a good girl spanking for this...”
I stood before her, my eyes fixed on my feet, not daring to look at her angry face. I had displeased her, and I knew I deserved to be punished.
“I won’t tell you again,” she warned. “Over my knee.”
I flicked my gaze upwards for the briefest moment, catching a glimpse of her heavenly eyes and her icy-stern expression. Butterflies fluttering inside me, I timidly obeyed her command and draped myself across her lap. In a moment my little skirt was flipped up and my panties pulled down, and before I could say “I’m sorry, Maria!” my bottom was being swatted a stinging pink. Oh, but Maria spanks so hard!
“Ow! Oh, please, Maria!” I yelped, kicking my feet pathetically, looking and feeling every inch the naughty little girl over her authoritative lover’s knee. “I’m s-sorry!”
“That’s Miss Sharapova to you, brat!” she scolded.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Ow! Yes, Miss Sharapova! Ow! Ooh!”
That afternoon Maria taught me a badly-needed lesson in obedience, and I thanked her humbly and attentively when she gave me permission to kneel at her feet and make amends.
“Ohhh... what a good little slut you are,” she purred, stroking my hair as I hungrily worshipped her. “I’ll have to give you a good girl spanking for this...”
I think Miss S. would make a wonderful gym teacher at the community college, with a huge glass window to her office that allowed her to watch you and the other girls shower everyday.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're not shy, Penny. For the showers are large, open, and very brightly lit.
Her professional obligations would force her to keep a close eye on you all, of course, to make sure there was no horse-play, and you washed all those hard to get areas.
No matter how high little Penny jumped, or how fast she ran, Maria always thought she could do better. A few well placed swats accross her shorts would urge her on during class, but AFTER the showers, the girls who didn't do their best would be called into the office, where Miss S would deal with them in a more leisurely way.
You always wondered if she selected the girls based on their performance on the field, or their appearance in the shower. For no matter how hard you tried, at least once a week you found yourself over her knee, staring at the cement floor.
That girl needs a good spanking too for her grunting at tennis matches.
ReplyDeleteGasp! Not my lovely Maria! You'll have to get past me first!
ReplyDelete(And quite possibly spank me) x
@imreadonly2: Ohhh! That sounds delightfully humiliating!
ReplyDeletePoor little Penny... groped and spanked and leered over and spanked... and all by my gorgeous gym teacher!
Goodness knows what she would do with me if I did give in to my urges and play with my favourite classmate in the shower... I think I might have a hard time sitting after she had finished with me :(
Where do I sign up? :)
Miss S does allow the girls to wash one another's backs, and soap each other's hair, although she draws the line (usually with her cane) when the touching exceeds the bounds of team spirit.
ReplyDeleteMiss S has an eagle-eye, and stares closely at each of the girls, but it's still so easy for a hand to slip where it shouldn't. That's why the workman are installing video cameras next week, so she'll be able to review the tapes at her leisure, and you'll never know exactly where she'll be looking.
Don't drop the soap, Penelope! (Or do.)