Susie Learns the Hard Way Read online

  Then he snarled, like a wild beast that has tasted blood, and leaned swiftly forward, pushing his large and oily head between her legs, snuffling in triumph as his thick lips tasted and kissed her and his wildly writhing tongue slithered across her opening before burying itself between the delicate pink lips that opened so hungrily to let it in, deeper and deeper, hot and wriggling, flexible and firm.

  She climaxed in her sleep, calling out in a series of soft moans that woke her, flat on her back, knees high and wide, both hands crammed between her legs, fingers probing and stroking.

  But that final orgasm must have been the relief her aching pussy had craved, for it finally allowed her to sleep in peace for the rest of the night, waking the next morning drained, still needing a good night’s sleep before she could face a day at school. It had all been so vivid and detailed that she felt as if she’d lived through it all in real life; a feeling given extra realism by the puffiness of her pussy, which felt extra sensitive, tender and used. As well it might, she thought, gently exploring with experienced fingers. Almost at once she discovered she was neither too tired nor too tender to ignore her morning ritual, and spread her legs a little wider so she could reach every part of herself.

  But this morning it wasn’t the same. Though her rescue was dramatic and her rescuer suitably rugged and handsome, she found his polite and gentle manner less arousing than usual, and the feel of his lips on hers was soft and inconclusive. He touched her breast with sensitive fingers when she wanted him to pinch her nipples harshly, and he trailed a knowing hand lightly between her legs, almost asking permission before he continued, right at the very moment when he should have been masterful, commanding and certain. He should have known she was ready to be taken.

  Which was all a bit strange, since he was entirely a figment of her own imagination and ought to have been whatever she wanted. How could a dream figure have a personality of its own, especially one she couldn’t control?

  But he did, and he was exerting his will over her right now. As his fingers peeled back the pink folds and traced unasked around her nut-hard little button, she felt her body respond, her actions dictated by the throbbing centre of sensation between her legs. She watched as her own hand reached brazenly out to undo his trousers, pushing them down and then resting where he rose hard and thick inside crisp white boxer shorts that contrasted with the dusty scruffiness of his outer garments. She grabbed him through the cotton and pulled him towards her, spreading her legs wider and arching her back as her unusually wanton behaviour finally brought her to the peak of arousal and allowed her body to gain its release.

  And so that afternoon, bored stupid in a double period maths lesson, Susie found her daydream taking the shape of the nightmares which had kept her awake, and she found the mixture of fear and helplessness to be incredibly arousing, creating sensations in her lithe body which were far more powerful than those she had experienced that morning, or could remember feeling in her daydreams before. But she was very sure of how she felt now, and of the fiery gush in her knickers as the Prince pushed her roughly back, pinning her to the leather seat with a powerful hand, driving her thighs apart with one irresistible shove of his knee and reaching down into the valley he had forced open, grasping firmly between her legs, squeezing her tender pussy as if he was testing a ripe fruit on a market stall.

  Far in the background she heard a distant voice droning on about Pythagoras.

  ‘Perfect,’ the Prince hissed over his shoulder in foreign dialect to the monstrous bodyguard, whose tiny eyes glittered as he stared greedily between Susie’s legs, watching his master squeeze and feel her. ‘Young, fresh, and ripe for the plucking.’

  Somewhere far away her conscious mind made a firm decision, and immediately all hopes of rescue faded into the distance. Susie placed herself willingly at the disposal of the evil Prince, and the creamy brown erection she knew was straining to burst from his robes and penetrate her...

  ‘So shall you be plucked!’ he roared, and laughed his satanic laugh.

  Susie squirmed in fear, but that only made her body vibrate in his hand like the fluttering of a trapped bird, which roused him to greater heights of passion.

  ‘Ah yes, my sweet, you are ready now, and you won’t have to wait any longer.’ He drew a small but wickedly sharp knife from under his loose gown and deftly cut her panties away with one sweeping movement.

  Bared to his gaze, Susie’s fear made her wetter than ever, and the bodyguard leaned forward, waggling his hooked nose as if he’d caught the scent of her in his nostrils, but his eyes never moved and his stare was fixed on her groin.

  ‘You want her too, my fine Igor, I see you do.’ The Prince smiled encouragement and Igor raised his head and nodded, still staring intently at the object of his desire. ‘And why not, eh, why not? A cat may look at a King, and a King’s bodyguard may look at a pussy.’ He laughed uproariously at his own wit and cleverness, but Igor only wetted his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  Susie lay perfectly still, waiting...

  ‘Take her, then, my faithful Igor, take her. And, I charge you, use her harshly.’

  The piggy little eyes flickered away to look at his master for just a fraction of a second, and then fastened again on the trembling body beneath him.

  ‘I don’t give away sweetmeats like this one very often, so ensure that you cause me to feel it a worthy gift, as delightful in the giving as in the taking.’ Maintaining his grip and keeping her hands raised together above her head, the Prince eased aside to make room for the bulk of his creature, to which he had made a present of the firm young body that lay between them.

  Susie was indeed a teenage beauty; slim, lithe and pretty, pert breasts tipped with cherry-red nipples, firm thighs long and slender, joining together to frame her succulent pink pussy beneath a frizz of golden hair.

  Igor was a huge and ugly creature, well past forty years and well past forty inches at the waist. Worse still, he was swarthy, greasy and sour-smelling, with a pockmarked face, rotten teeth, bad breath, and dirty fingernails. He undoubtedly intended to treat Susie roughly, penetrating her with a penis she imagined to be like the rest of him; big, ugly and misshapen, perhaps like a twisted and knotted piece of old wood.

  The very idea made the delicate pink lips of her pussy twitch in frightened anticipation, and brought new floods of warm moisture seeping from between them to dribble onto the leather seat.

  Igor’s stubby fingers were thick and brutal, forcing her apart when they could have slid between the two halves of her peach so very easily, sending the breath hissing from her nose. ‘She’s ready for me,’ he growled in guttural dialect.

  ‘Then take her. And be sure you make her suffering please me.’

  Igor grinned, showing off his black teeth, while his other hand released a thick leather belt from beneath his baggy blouse. He pushed his trousers down, and up sprung a great club-headed shaft, longer and thicker than Susie’s forearm, brown and mottled all the way up, with a pink and purple tip that glistened in the light and dribbled sticky strands of fluid onto her thighs.

  She could see it was too big for her, but as Igor shuffled forward with the huge thing swaying about in front of him, there was no doubt he was going to push it into her and equally no doubt it would kill her when he did. But his fingers were still toying with her, producing sensations she had never felt before. They made her open wider as she arched her hips towards the monstrous thing, unaware that the Prince had released her hands and was teasing her nipples with his fingertips, creating waves of pleasure that flowed from each breast and down into her groin, where it reached the little bud Igor was so artfully teasing. It was some oriental trick or other, but it was so nice, and it made her body crave to be filled. As Igor fitted himself between her thighs she arched her back and raised her hips, offering her fragile opening. He grasped the thick shaft and tilted it until its slimy purple tip pressed against her,
spreading her wider and wider as Igor leant forward and, putting the weight of his massive body behind it, urging it irresistibly into her.

  Without warning Susie climaxed, suddenly and loudly.

  Both hands were gripping the edge of the desk, her back was arched and her thighs tensed as the spasms swept through her body. She knew everyone had turned to look, but there was nothing she could do until her body was released from the contractions that were gradually easing and getting further apart. Ordinarily she liked this bit the best; the longer slower waves of relaxation that seemed to bring her more relief than those first few seconds of hectic pulses. But now she tried to conquer them, and act as if they weren’t happening, trying to judge from the expressions of those around her whether she’d been quick enough getting hold of the desktop, or whether the whole class had seen her with her hand in her knickers.

  ‘Sorry,’ she gasped feebly, hoping to play the period pain card again.

  Miss Piggy – who taught maths as well as gymnastics – looked at her for several very long seconds. Susie’s life hung in the balance.

  ‘Would you like to see nurse, for some aspirin?’ she asked considerately, a knowing look in her eyes.

  Susie shook her head, and looked down at her open book.

  ‘Right, we’ll carry on then, where we left off. If we’re all paying attention?’

  The lesson began again and Susie breathed a long sigh of relief; she’d had the narrowest of escapes. And although she was pretty sure Miss Piggy had understood what was going on, she was equally certain that the other girls hadn’t been able to turn around quickly enough, and she’d been able to pull her hand free in time. As her breathing and pulse steadied, she picked up a pen and began writing furiously, racing to fill several pages with notes and hieroglyphics so it would seem she’d been paying attention all along. Finally the torment ended as the bell signalled the end of the lesson, and the school day.

  ‘Right, that’s it, off you go,’ announced Miss Piggy. ‘Homework by Wednesday morning please, on my desk. Make sure you remember, because I won’t be coming to find you to ask for it.’

  The class packed its briefcases and rose noisily to depart.

  ‘Behave yourselves on the way out of school, not too much noise.’

  They streamed noisily out through the door, jostling at the exit.

  ‘I’d like to see you for a moment, Wills.

  Susie’s heart leapt out of her chest and then crashed back inside, hammering furiously.

  Miss Piggy continued stacking paper neatly into her briefcase, ignoring Susie until the room was empty.

  ‘Shut the door, please. I think this will be better in private, don’t you?’

  She was trying to be friendly, but brusque and curt was still what she did best, and her attempts at relaxation made her seem awkward.

  ‘Now, about this afternoon.’ She shuffled some things on her desk. ‘Young ladies all have, ahem, hormones, and that, er, can make life difficult, even surprising, for you. Them. Us.’

  She attempted a smile and must have seen from Susie’s expression that it served only to make her look grotesque instead of welcoming and confidential.

  ‘I know it’s sometimes difficult to, um, control, and I sympathise. We all do.’

  She gave up trying to be confiding and reverted to type.

  ‘But you can’t carry on like that all the time. It’s bad for discipline and bad for you. What do you think lessons would be like if the whole class was doing something under the desk that was far more interesting than whatever work they’d got on top of it?’

  She must have been watching for some time, Susie realised with a shock.

  ‘The rest of the girls manage to control themselves, and they’ve got exactly the same hormones as you have.’

  Privately, Susie doubted this was true, but wisely said nothing.

  ‘I could report you to the headmistress. In fact I probably should. That would be the proper course of action. Then she’d tell your parents, get the school doctor to see you, and perhaps arrange some counselling. That would be the normal way to handle it.’

  There was silence while Susie considered the enormity of such a course of action.

  ‘But I don’t always believe the proper way is the right way. Too much mollycoddling these days. Too much wet-nursing and namby-pambying. What you girls need is two years’ National Service. If you lot were in the army under my command I’d soon sort you out.’ She cleared her throat before continuing.

  ‘I’m offering you a choice. Either I shall report the disruption in my class to the headmistress in the proper fashion, or...’ the pause was a long one ‘...or you can choose to have it dealt with here and now, by me.’

  Susie realised she was on the brink of something, that Miss Piggy had led them both to a precipice, and that a fall from here would damage both of them. This was as vital and difficult a moment for Miss Piggy as it was for her, except that Susie knew she didn’t have a choice, and Miss Piggy knew it too.

  ‘Okay,’ she whispered.

  ‘Okay, what?’ Miss Piggy’s voice was almost as hushed and tremulous.

  ‘I’d rather deal with it now.’

  ‘Just the two of us?’

  Susie nodded.

  ‘It goes no further than this room.’

  Susie nodded again.

  ‘Wise choice. You won’t regret it. Doctors: waste of time. Counselling: bigger waste of time. Quick reminder, that’s all it takes. Short, sharp, shock.’

  Susie wondered what she’d agreed to.

  ‘Lift your skirt up.’

  She thought her eyes might pop out of her head; deep down she’d been expecting something like this, but the sudden bluntness of the command was a shock.

  Miss Piggy was watching closely, and Susie did as she was told, gripping the hem in each hand and lifting the skirt a few inches, exposing her thighs.

  Miss Piggy nodded. ‘Properly,’ she said firmly. ‘Right up.’

  Susie took a deep breath and raised her hands some more, bunching the pleated black material around her waist, exposing her slim thighs and the vivid slash of white cotton that dipped between them in a neat V.

  Miss Piggy swallowed, twice, apparently finding it difficult. Her voice was harsher, almost hoarse, when she spoke again.

  ‘Over the desk,’ she instructed, nodding towards the row of desks across the front of the classroom. ‘Bend over the desk.’

  Bend over? Susie must have looked blank. Certainly she felt blank, and more than a little confused. Deep down she’d suspected Miss Piggy wanted to grope her like she had in the changing rooms, and she’d been prepared for that to happen. If she was honest, she’d been mildly curious. But bend over? That could only mean...

  Her heart jumped again as she realised what Miss Piggy had in mind. Fear made her body react in its usual way, and she felt herself getting wet again. Her knickers were already damp, she knew, and this would only make it more obvious. She really didn’t want to bend over and let Miss Piggy see her like that. But the mistress pointed sternly at the nearest desk and looked Susie in the eye. ‘Across that one, please,’ she said, her voice thick and heavy.

  Slowly, reluctantly, Susie turned her back on Miss Piggy and shuffled the few feet to the front row of desks, feeling self-conscious and exposed with her skirt hiked up around her waist. She stopped in front of the desk, still wondering how to get out of this, but not finding an answer.

  The chair scraped noisily as Miss Piggy stood up; two strides and Susie could sense the heavy bulk behind her. A large hand pressed gently but irresistibly between her shoulder-blades, bending her forward. Instinctively she bent her knees as well, as if about to crouch, but a light tap across her thighs made her stop and look down. Miss Piggy was holding a thin bamboo switch in one hand, and she was tapping it across the front of Susie’s thighs as she pushe
d into her back with the other hand. Her intention was clear, and Susie obediently straightened her legs so she was bending forward from the waist in a pose that thrust her bottom back and up.

  ‘You may hold on to the desk.’ Miss Piggy’s voice was low and sibilant, and she was breathing through her nose.

  Susie let go of her skirt, but it didn’t fall now she was bent over. The desktop was uncomfortable as she rested her forearms on it, fingers curled over the lip, trying not to think of what she looked like to Miss Piggy, standing close behind her with a perfect view of her bottom and the white knickers stretched across its smooth curves.

  ‘Feet apart.’

  She shuffled them an inch or two.

  ‘Further... And again.’ The bamboo switch rattled from side to side between her knees until they were planted a couple of feet apart. She knew the posture had tensed the cheeks of her bottom, and separated them too. She’d looked at herself in the mirror often enough, as she knelt on the bed copying the poses of the girls she saw in the Sunday papers, and she was well aware that in this position there was a prominent swelling between her thighs, a very sexy swelling, where the white of her panties was pulled taut across her opening. She was also aware that when her body had responded to the excitement of the pose, she’d been able to watch the material darkening as her juices soaked into it, until it was wet and opaque, framing and outlining the swollen lips, almost more revealing than nakedness. Today she was already aroused, her panties already wet from her earlier excitement, and as she felt the trickle begin again she knew Miss Piggy was looking into the heart of her private body.

  She risked a look back over her shoulder and knew she was right; Miss Piggy’s face was almost purple, her mouth open and her tongue lolling out. The effect was of someone concentrating very hard on something. Following the direction of her eyes, Susie knew exactly what.