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Nice Spanking for Shy Student
I had been doing piano tutoring for around a year, on and off… a little hobby between jobs, just to keep my skills up, and, I guess, meet new people. A friend of mine taught music full time and would occasionally refer students to me, if she knew I was free, and although I wasn’t as knowledgeable or experienced, I was mostly taking on k**s practicing for grade 1 or 2 and, not really needing the money, didn’t charge much.
Anyway, sometimes the customer base was a little more interesting.
Kitty actually came to me via an online ad I had posted and called me one morning. She said she could play a bit when she was younger but had become rusty, and was just needing some practice time and a few pointers. I told her my fee, which naturally delighted her and arranged for her to come round the following afternoon.
I take my lessons at home and have a vintage Steinway upright piano… I inherited it from my Grandmother… a really nice piece which I look after well.
Kitty seemed pleasant when she arrived, nervous, but smiley. I took her coat and showed her into the main room. My apartment is modest, but has a stunning view of the river which shone like a streak of silver and gold in the bright sun.
-Wow! She said, standing at the window.
She was dressed in jeans and a button up blouse, casual shoes. She was pretty, in her thirties, quite petite, blue eyes; something made me think, Catholic girl.
Our first lesson proceeded without incident, she obviously had played before, but her finger work was clumsy and she was hesitant reading the music. I let her play without much comment and she constantly looked up at me for reassurance, I simply told her to play on, and gave her more music – all simple stuff. I thought she had potential but she had two main problems.
-You are easily distracted, I told her, -maybe, it’s a confidence thing, but you are losing focus on the playing, looking for external clues. They don’t exist, the clues are in front of you, in the music sheet and on the keys.
She looked a bit crestfallen, confidence it is then. -You’ll be fine, I soothed, you know how to play scales? She nodded -Good, practice C and G scales and have a review of the circle of five..
-Can I come back next week? She asked.
-Yes, or later this week, if you prefer…
-Yes! She was keen. -Yes, I’ll come back this week.
-Friday morning, 11 o’clock?
-Can I make it one? I’ll take the afternoon off work.
I raised my eyebrows at her request, not intending to deny it at all. -Hmm, one? I guess I can fit you in then, but one other thing?
-Wear different shoes, those trainers aren’t helping… ballet flats maybe… pedal control.
I watched her go from the window, strolling down the street; sweet girl, cute, malleable…
* * *
The next couple of days passed nicely; I got a quarter of sensimilia brought ‘straight from the Rastafarian farm in the blue mountains, none of yer homegrown shite’ or so my dealer told me… and I had a date with my part time girlfriend, Suzie, on Thursday night, which kind of took the edge off me a little because she was in a petulant and whiny mood, but after a few wines she softened and let me take her back to mine and fuck her hard, doggy, pushing my thumb up her arse as I blew my load into her wet minge.
We slept in the next morning and I had to hassle her out of the door, telling her I had things to do. She acted grumpy, but I knew she had things to do as well… like get her hair done, go shopping, shave her stubbly twat and sort out who was getting to fuck her over the weekend.
The flat was a bit of a state, but I gave it the rapid clean treatment and had a quick shower.
We both brushed up ok, and I realised, as I was putting on a freshly ironed shirt, that I was making a special effort. It was true that Kitty had been fluttering through my thoughts since I’d met her, there was a vulnerability there that I wanted to expose…
* * güvenilir bahis *
The door bell rang at Bang On One, and when I answered, there she was. Fuck me, she looked terrific, wearing a green summer dress, with a fitted bodice and floaty skirt, strapped shoulders bare (although she was carrying an emergency cardigan), bare legs and ballet pumps. She smiled up expectantly. -Hi!
I smiled calmly, hoping to mask my delight at this wonderful specimen. -Hi. I said, -Come in.
I ushered her through and followed, watching the spring in her step and the curve of her calves.
-I see you’ve followed my instructions about the footwear, anyway… I said, -Did you practice those scales?
-Yes, she said -I don’t think I’m very good.
-What do you play on?
She hesitated, -A Yamaha keyboard.
-Ok, so it’s not going to be the same is it? It’s difficult to practice one instrument on a different one isn’t it?
-You wouldn’t practice trumpet on the trombone, would you?
-No. She blushed and bowed her head.
I needed her to buck up, the girl was too easily cowed, -I can help you, none of this is a test, lets hear what you can do.
She sat at the piano and played the c scale competently, but when I asked her to do it again, then again, she started to make mistakes. -Sorry. she said.
-What are you scared of? I asked.
-Nothing… I’m not scared…
-Ok, lets try something different… stand up.
She stood, at the the piano, pushing the stool back with her legs.
-Not there. I told her, -come into the middle of the room.
-What’s this all about? She asked.
-I’m going to help you like I promised, you need to focus and for that you need to stop searching for the fear… you are constantly checking yourself… you want awareness and control to replace your high alert anxiety.
She stood up taller. -I’m not anxious. She asserted, well kind of asserted.
-Good. I said. -Now, I’m going to put my hands on you, is that alright? She just looked, I continued, -Nothing can be done without your consent, ok? I want to adjust your posture, you are familiar with the Alexander Technique?
-I’ve heard of it.
-Well then you may know that it’s a series of exercises you employ whilst standing, sitting, moving to ensure you maintain a posture which puts the least strain on your body. Stand up straight! I commanded.
Smartly, she did. I slowly circled her once. -Ok, we’ll start at the head…
Soon we were correcting her posture; head up, head down, shoulders back, breath awareness, lumbar spine curvature…
-Engage your abdominal muscles. I said and she pulled her belly in. -I think you are doing it wrong.
She wasn’t fat by any means, like I said, petite, and that bodice dress was keeping her svelte, but I could tell it was her upper abdominal muscles she was tensing; the core muscles into her groin, the ones that make her stand up, were being underused. I picked up an antique wooden ruler from the coffee table and stood behind her. Placing a hand on her shoulder I placed the ruler on her lower right belly, just above the pubis. -Now cough, I whispered. I felt the ruler jolt. -Press your finger there… do it both sides… cough again. You feel that? She nodded. -That’s the muscles to engage. All day, every day. Do it now.
She stood a little taller. -I’m doing it. She said.
-Check, press and cough.
Next, I brought over the piano stool and had her practice sitting down and standing up without using her hands and she seemed to be getting the mastery of it, -Keep those abs engaged. I warned.
-How do you feel? I asked her, standing still in front of me now.
-I dunno, she said, -I feel like I’m on show, but I feel like I’m doing well… uh, I know this stuff, I just need someone to help me do it…
-You’re not doing that well yet.. I sighed with fake exasperation. -Ok, turn around. She did. I slapped the ruler into my palm a couple of times, playfully, -Stick your ass out.
-What?! No! She didn’t not do it, though.
-What are you scared of?
-I’m scared you’re gonna hit me with that ruler.
-Only if you want me to. Why are tipobet you scared of that? I moved in, putting my left hand on her hip and dangling the ruler between her legs with my right. -Why are you scared, huh?
-The pain, obviously…
-Don’t worry, I’m not going to hit you with this ruler. I edged the ruler up between her thighs, bunching her skirt up, until I felt it rest against the crack of her buttocks through her panties and neither of us moved for a full minute. We synchronised our breathing and slowly she started to edge herself against the worn smooth wood. I had my own worn smooth wood in full force by now, deliciously straining against my undershorts.
-Why don’t you take your dress off, I asked, -It looks most uncomfortable.
-Can you help me with the zipper? She asked.
After unzipping her, she made a big show of attempting to fold the dress neatly, but it wasn’t the kind of dress to fold so she was getting a bit flustered. -Would you like a hanger? I asked, amused.
-Lets get back to the matter in hand, I said, once everything was to her liking, -your piano lesson. Stand in the middle again, you’re back on show. I gestured her back into the room. -Legs shoulder width apart… that’s it… you look nice.
I wasn’t lying, she was a pretty thirty something, with a real charm, lovely body, slim and soft and pale, and lo! and behold! she’d decked out in her nicest set. I produced a double length of soft rope, natural colour, from a drawer.
-Lovely lingerie, I said, fingering the edge of her panties. -Lets see what we’ve got here… I started tapping the ruler lightly on her mound. -That’s not painful is it? She shook her head, -Nothing to be scared of? Head shake again. -Ok, stick your arse out.
Making no complaint, she bent forward slightly pushing her legs up straight. I looped the rope lightly around her waist and left the ends hanging. I ran the ruler again between her thighs, more forcefully this time, insistent and she responded by moving her feet apart and leaning further forward until I had the ruler jammed up against her snatch through her gusset, I grabbed the ropes to steady her and lift her up onto her toes…keeping constant pressure on her vuvla, I let her down, dropped the ruler and smacked her buttocks in quick succession, not hard, but sharp and she gasped. -Owww!!
-I didn’t hit you with the ruler… what are you scared of? The pain? it wasn’t that sore, was it?
I was right, I didn’t mark her, and you know, I prefer not to… she shook her head. -It wasn’t that sore. She admitted.
-Ok stick it out again. This time I used my fingers between her legs, gently stroking up her thighs, then running lightly up either side of the V her underwear made… Without talking I pulled her panties down and left them at her ankles, when she tried to step out of them, I told her -No, leave them, but spread your legs further, I want to see your cunt!
-I want to see your cunt. I don’t want to see your flower, or your foo-foo and I don’t want to see your pussy! Remember! Bend over more.
She did, and I tightened the ropes around her waist and pulled her hands behind her back and secured them with a single simple hitch. -That’s you now. I said, standing to her left and holding the ropes around her, -Lets see it then.
She didn’t answer.
-Let’s see it, I repeated, -what do I want to see?
She hesitated. -…my… cunt?
-She can be taught! I exclaimed.
She turned her toes in and her buttocks parted slightly allowing me the glorious sight of her downy slit. -Not shaved, eh?
-Sorry, Sir. I had to laugh, ‘sir’.
-I’m no Sir, young lady, you can call me Mister.
There was a hint of fire about this Kitty, that was for sure and I ran my right hand over her buttocks. -Not sore now?
-Not at all, Mister.
-How about now? And I gave another two the same.
-Spread your legs more!
-I can’t, I’ll have to take my feet out!
-Ok. I relented and allowed her a second to free her ankles, keeping the panties still around her left. I took the opportunity for a grope of her tits, quite beautiful tipobet giriş in her well made bra and then I put my index finger to her lips. Our eyes met.
-What now, Mister? Then she opened her mouth and took my finger teasing it with her tongue, before giving the tip a little kiss.
-Back to where we were, of course. Focus, Kitty!! Bend over, spread your legs, what do I want to see?
-I want to see your cunt.
This time she was able to bend and spread and show me her goods. Already her labia were softening and parting, I could smell the heat… I opened her arse cheeks with finger and thumb. -Mmm, lovely holes.
Then I smacked her cunt, catching her with my fingers, a real good livener and she sprang up. -Shit! She yowled.
-That wasn’t that sore, was it?
-Let’s see it, then.
-Let’s see your cunt, that’s what it’s all about, this piano lesson.
-No. You’ll hit it again.
-Let’s see your cunt.
I waited for a few seconds. -It’s not that sore, is it?
She shrugged, smiled -It’s not that sore.
-Let’s see it then.
I found her to be soaking wet and really receptive as I groped and fondled her, running up and down her slit, teasing her anus, sometimes focusing on her clit, sometimes two, then three fingers, fucking her, holding her, bending her, for many minutes and she was wriggling and writhing and making all the right noises, I had opened up her wet clam nicely and I told her I wanted to hear her scream.
Luckily my apartment is concrete, so the neighbours don’t really hear what is going on.
I pulled my fingers out of her delicious hole and smacked it again, this time with a wet slap, not hard, then started tapping her cunt firmly, repetitively, and with steadily greater force. I stopped to untie her hands and pushed her over to the couch. -On your back, I told her, -legs up and out. I pushed a couple of juicy fingers back into her mouth and she sucked them greedily. -Are you ready? I asked her. She nodded. I grabbed her vulva firmly, -It’s not gonna be sore. Only ten, OK?
-Ten? Make it three.
I like a good stingy smack and the first one was under hand, my middle finger getting right in her crevice, cunt juice seeping out. Second and third much the same, landing plum on her peach. She was squealing and laughing and bringing her legs together. -No more, that’s three! she complained, but only half heartedly, because her cheeks were flushed and beaming and she was grinning from ear to ear.
-Two more then, Kitty. I said.
-You’re a good Mister. She blushed.
-Let’s see that cunt.
When she opened her legs, I was overcome and I dropped down to drink from that sweet source, I had to push my tongue all the way up inside her vagina, and I sucked hard on her little bud which rose and fell rhythmically, I had her on the edge again and she was urging me on to eat her, lick her, tongue her, taste her, and I slapped her again, more awkwardly due to the angle, then again, hitting her hard, then I dived back in, frantically tongue fucking her, one knuckle deep in her asshole, she didn’t seem to mind at that point, and I’m sure I could smell and taste and hear and feel and see her coming all at once…
* * *
-God I want to suck your sweet cock! She was on her knees, tits out over the top of her bra, scrabbling at my belt, and my cock was rock was rock hard, leaking precum… god, my cock wanted her to do it as well. But sometimes the big head has to rule the little head and I thought she’d done enough for today.
-Next time perhaps, I said gently, pushing her hands from my crotch and lifting her chin, urging her to stand. -Go get your dress. I’m gonna save that.
She looked a little disappointed, I guess, and little Fun Guy was spewing, but he’d get his chance, that was for sure.
-Same next week? I asked her, helping her with her zipper.
-You’re a funny guy, Mister.
-Remember your homework; engage your abdominals, shave your cunt completely smooth and practice those scales! My god!
She was about to go when she remembered. -My panties! Where are they.
Crumpled on the floor where she dropped them, I stepped over them. -My fee, I think, I said. -You better go without, you could do with a cooling breeze up there. She pecked me on the cheek and I closed the door.
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