Sarah's Tutorial: Corbin's Bend, Book 2 (12 page)

Chapter 16

"I came to say good-bye, Professor. I'm leaving." It was the day after graduation. Sarah stood in his living room, attempting to be cheerful, he could tell instantly, but behind the cheer was a dullness–a sort of disinterest in anything or anyone–that made him want to scream. He remembered the expression on her face when they had their very first conversation about the tutorial that never really happened–the one about Livy's early history of Rome–how her face had glowed with passionate interest that he knew he had partly been responsible for kindling, and how captivated he had been, how much he had wanted to know more about who she was and what she wanted out of life. Had she given off a submissive vibe there? He thought probably. The way their erotic energies had fed off one another, in October and November, certainly made it seem they must have had something D/s going on beneath the surface from the beginning.

Christ, he was supposed to say something, wasn't he? She looked at him, with a face that was somehow both hard and dull, now. He could barely recognize her, or at least he wanted barely to recognize her, if that was what she was going to be like for the rest of her life. The scream impulse became, of its own accord, a weeping impulse.

"Leaving?" he asked. "Where are you going?"

"San Francisco, I think. I think I need just to go hang out somewhere. That's all. This place is over for me. And, you know, San Francisco..."

"I do. It's lovely. You'll like it." He tried to put tenderness into his voice. It was nearly all he could do not to cry, though.

Her false cheerfulness seemed to wink out like someone had turned out the lights behind her eyes. "Why the fuck do you even care, asshole?"

Before he could even think about what he was doing, he grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her over the arm of the living room sofa.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Sarah yelled, turning her head to meet his eyes, where he stood next to her as she lay there, not trying to get up at least for this moment when all her attention focused on her rage at him. "Don't even think about spanking me. You gave up that right when you fucked me over on Christmas Eve!"

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady, let alone that language. I don't think there's anything you need right now quite as much as you need to be punished. Pull down your jeans and your panties." He ripped off his belt, and doubled it in his hand.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to obey you now, Professor Dunn," she retorted, turning his name and title into a mockery. She started to rise.

Not knowing what part of himself–his desire? his authority? his love for her? –the words were coming from, he said, "Am I going to have to tie you down, Sarah?"

"God, if only you meant that, John. If only..." To both their surprise, she burst into tears, there, half-up and half-down over the arm of the sofa.

The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. He put his left arm out, and encircled her waist, pinning her down to the sofa, while with his right hand, he just started to spank her with the belt, as hard as he could, through her jeans.

"Oh, God, John... oh, please."

"Please what?" he said, raising his voice in a way he never, ever had with her before, and not ceasing to punish her.

"Ow! Please... want me..." she was sobbing, now. "Please–please... make me..."

He kept bringing the belt down, over and over. "Make you what, Sarah?"

"I don't... ow! I don't know–make me feel real again, God damn it!"

He stopped the spanking, and said, "Sarah, if you think I don't want you, your powers of self-delusion are much, much too great. But that doesn't matter now, because what's happening now is that I'm going to stop you from throwing your future away. Will you pull down your jeans and panties, young lady?" he asked, through his own tears.

"Yes, sir," she said. His cock had leapt when she called him "sir" for the first time since December, but he didn't let it distract him. He put his belt back on and went to his office for the cane. When he came back, carrying both the cane and some of his nylon rope, Sarah's jeans and panties were around her knees.

"I'm going to cane you as I've never caned you, Sarah," he said, as he tied her wrists together, then secured them to the couch. "You have to learn that your future matters. It's going to hurt, so it will be kinder to you to tie you down." He bound her ankles to the legs of the couch. Even with the rope, he finally had to push her waist down with his left hand, because after twelve she began to flail about so much that the couch itself was in danger of tipping over. Holding her that way, while she screamed and squirmed, he finally got her past all her resistance at twenty, and proceeded slowly to twenty-four with her making only little Sarah-noises between her yelps of pain and lying still.

He was as hard as a rock, but that didn't matter at all. What mattered was her, and making sure she really, really understood.

When she realized he was done, she said, softly and timidly, "John? Aftercare?"

He picked her up off the couch, and carried her to his bedroom, and laid her in the bed, and lay down next to her, both of them still fully clothed except that Sarah's jeans and panties were around her knees. He snuggled her close into him, trying not to touch her bottom, which he was sure was terribly painful.

Sarah still sniffled a little bit, but she was much calmer. As he looked into her eyes, he thought he saw some kind of a spark returning. "Moisturizer?" she asked.

"Is that a good idea?" John asked in reply.

"I'm not positive I heard you right, but I think you might have said a little while ago that you want me."

He tightened his embrace. She had her little arms gathered up in front of her, as if in prayer, and with her right hand she stroked his cheek.

"There is nothing in the world that I want as much as I want you, Sarah. The question is whether our relationship is a good thing for you."

"John Dunn, if you didn't just have that question resolved over the course of the last half-hour, you're not the brilliant man I thought you were."

John laughed, and the weight of several worlds seemed to pass from him. "Do you feel real again, then?"

Sarah looked up into his eyes, requesting a kiss in nearly the same way she had in his office at the end of September. Now, as then, John gave it to her.

"Oh my God, John," she said, when he broke their lips' contact. "Please fuck me. Right now."

"I think someone needs a little lesson about topping from the bottom."

"But this is aftercare. You have to do what I tell you." She pouted.

"That's a rather liberal interpretation of the rules, I have to say, but alright, young lady. If you're the one in control, though, you'd better undress me."

"Lie back," Sarah said, and started on his shirt buttons. For a girl who professed a need for immediate fucking, she certainly took her time. She kissed each bit of his chest that she exposed, and she licked extensively as well, especially around the top of his jeans. He groaned, and made what he supposed were John-noises.

Then she unbuckled his belt. "Nasty belt," she murmured. "I can't wait until John uses you again on his little Sarah's poor little bottom."

John groaned, "Sarah, oh my lord..." for after that she had unbuttoned his jeans, and opened his zipper, and stripped his jeans down, and she kissed the front of his boxers.

"Sir," she said, "I need to confess something." She had not stopped kissing, in and among her words, as she said this.

"Yes, young lady?"

"I was very bad at the end of the year."

"I know you were. Marilyn called me."

Sarah stopped kissing for a moment to laugh.

"How many guys did you sleep with?" John asked, in a matter of fact way.

"Only two, sir." It seemed so strange to say "only", given that those two had increased her total by 200%. "They... they weren't like you, sir."

"I should hope not."

"One of them pretended he was a Dominant, but... he didn't really understand what it even meant, I think."

"Hmm," John said. "Well, I think you are going to have to face some disciplinary consequences, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Definitely."

"We're still in aftercare, though, for as long as you need, sweetheart. And I don't think your bottom is in a state to take more punishment right now. On the other hand, I can think of some other disciplinary measures I could take. Why don't I get the moisturizer?"

With a wonderful little coo of delight, she snuggled down on her tummy into the bedclothes. Now clad only in his boxers, John went to the dresser for the familiar plastic bottle. When he returned, he said, "I also think you should return to your natural state in this house, Sarah," and assisted in the removal of her clothes. Seeing her there, naked in his bed, her bottom flaming, after all these months, nearly made his heart stop.

"Sir?" she said. "Is my collar around, anywhere?"

"It is, Sarah, but this topping from the bottom is getting a little out of hand."

"Yes, sir."

He began to rub the moisturizer into her bottom cheeks. The Sarah-noises came louder, and longer.

"Sarah?" he asked.

"Yes, sir?"

"Did either of the guys have you here?" He emphasized the spot he meant with the tip of his middle finger.

"No, sir!" she exclaimed, as if hurt by the suggestion. "My bottom is yours."

"I think I need to fuck it now, if that's perfectly alright with you, for the first part of your discipline."

"Oh, sir. Green."

"And then your face, as a special disciplinary measure."

"Green, sir."

"I wasn't asking, young lady.”

"I'm sorry, sir."

* * * * *

Much later, in front of the fire, with her collar back around her neck, Sarah asked, sleepily, "How much penance did Father Henry give you for having an affair with me?"

John laughed. "None. But I got three rosaries and memorizing this devilishly complicated prayer of St. Augustine for not standing up for myself with your father."

"Seriously?" Sarah asked.

"Seriously. I think Father Henry thinks every one of us fucked up royally. I have no idea what he gave to your parents–assuming that they even mentioned it."

"I think my Mom probably got a lot of lashes. I mean, she did go to your lectures." Sarah giggled.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm going to have to spank you for that, I think."

"Promise?" Sarah asked.

"I promise."

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Rome?"

"For our honeymoon?" Sarah was nearly asleep, and John said it, really (at least in the immediate moment) just to see what she would do.

"What?" she asked.

"Shh. Rome, yes," John said, and held her tightly.

Emily Tilton

I, Emily Tilton, if I exist, am a human rights lawyer who resides in Greenwich, CT. It's more likely that I'm actually someone else, who wishes she were as free to play out her real fantasies as Emily Tilton is.

EXPLORATIONS is a narrative version of my nearly lifelong quest to reconcile my submissive erotic orientation with my ethics. See this post on my blog for a frequently updated guide to the series:

http://etiltonexplorations.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-explorations-series-so-far.html

Over the many years since I became aware of my sometimes unbearable craving for ravishment, spanking, and above all anal domination, I have tried to come to terms with that craving in more ways than I can count. The first of the ways was by reading, voraciously, every piece of good BDSM erotica (and of course also a ton of bad BDSM erotica) I could find.

Eventually, I read Story of O. As is reflected throughout EXPLORATIONS, it changed my life, though the change has been gradual, and continues to this day. The idea that other women might share the lusts I have by turns been ashamed of and defiantly proud of, that a woman like the real Pauline Réage might write so beautifully of those lusts, and work them out so thoroughly and even pitilessly on a character, put Réage's famous pencil in my right hand. Or, to put it in the terms of EXPLORATIONS, it put my left hand on the keyboard of my laptop and my right hand in my lap, if you know what I mean. I started to write spanking stories.

Friend her on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/emily.tilton.98?viewer_id=0

Don’t miss these exciting titles by Emily Tilton and Blushing Books!

Explorations: The First Notebook of Emily Orn Wilkes, Secret Countess of Wessulk

Explorations: The Second Notebook of Emily Orn Wilkes, Secret Countess of Wessulk

Caroline's Rocking Horse

Caroline's Little Friends

Caroline's Little Club

Ebook Offer

WOULD YOU LIKE A FREE SPANKING STORY EVERY MONTH?

At
http://www.blushingbooks.com
, we provide our visitors with a free eBook every single month! That's right, every month we choose an eBook to give to our customers at no charge, both to show our gratitude for your business and to provide a sample of the content we offer.

Can you read this free eBook on your Kindle? Yes! Once you’re logged onto our site, it’s easy to send a book right to your Kindle.

Can you read it on your iPad? Yes! Your Kobo? Yes! Your Nook? YES!

We provide all of our books on BlushingBooks.com in several formats so that you can read our stories on virtually any reader! Membership at BlushingBooks.com is free, so sign up today and get your free story right now!

DO YOU NEED A TRIP TO THE WOODSHED?

Since 1999, Bethany's Woodshed has been publishing the best romantic and erotic BDSM and spanking fiction on the Internet. Before there were eBooks, there was Bethany's! More than a decade later, The Woodshed is Blushing Books exclusive preview site, and it is still going strong delivering the best, original stories - now with two updates a week. We guarantee at least 40,000 words of brand new, professionally written stories each week by all your favorite authors, plus at least 20 completed books when you join. Carolyn Faulkner, Maren Smith, Starla Kaye, Paige Tyler, Joannie Kay, Abigail Webster, Sullivan Clarke, Fiona Wilde, Breanna Hayse, Korey Mae Johnson, Melinda Barron, Courage Knight, Loki Renard ... they're all here, plus many more.

Embrace the spank!

See the stories first at The Woodshed!

http://www.herwoodshed.com