East Northport

Chapter 6
Three on a Match

The following Tuesday was a real eye-opener. All five of us reported to the Larson's as ordered. Lord Larson directed the boys downstairs. Lady Larson ushered Judy and I to her bedroom.

She pointed to the packages lying on the bed. "Take your clothes off and get dressed in those things."

Judy and I inspected the contents. We couldn't believe what we saw. In the bags were the shortest black leather mini-skirts ever made. If they were more than six inches from waist to hem, they were a mile and they certainly weren't that!

I looked around for panties. There weren't any. I asked Mrs. Larson, "Lady, do you want us to wear our own panties?"

"No dear, you have a garter belt. That's all you need."

I was shocked. I never wore a garter belt. Mrs. Larson had to show Judy and I how to put it on. We had better luck donning the black fishnet stockings and clipping them to the belt.

I pulled on the skirt and adjusted it around my waist. There was about a half inch from the bottom of my naked crotch and the bottom of the skirt. The cool air licked tantalizingly at my pussy, and the leather felt great on my ass and thighs.

Next, Judy and I inspected the bras. They were made of the same black leather as the skirts, and had holes cut out where our nipples should be. I've never had leather touch my body there before. It felt -- funny.

I read where people in primitive tribes would wear the skins of the animals they killed. The belief was that they inherited the soul and spirit of the animal as well as some of its characteristics. This supposedly imparted wisdom or courage to the wearer. I believe it. Not only did the leather make my skin feel good, it made my whole body feel -- well -- powerful. That's really the only adjective to describe it.

The last item of our apparel was a pair of knee-high, shiny leather black boots. They pulled on like storm trooper boots. There, all resemblance stopped. Although the toes were very tapered, they were surprisingly comfortable. The extremely high spiked heels, however, ended in an almost needle sharp point.

Judy and I put on the boots and stood up. I should say, tried to stand up. I could feel my calf muscles cramp under the stress of having to arch my foot so much and putting so much weight on the ball of my foot. How I longed for the Keds I had on minutes prior!

The height of the heels caused other difficulties as well. Each foot was balanced very unstably on two precarious points of contact: a very small patch at the ball of my foot and a pencil- wide heel. It was almost like trying to stand on one's toes while wearing ice skates. Judy was no better off. Of course, Judy and I had worn heels before, but they were nothing like this. The heels on the boots made a sharp clicking sound every time they hit the floor.

"One more thing before we are ready," Lady Larson said, "You girls need to make up your face. Come with me to the bathroom."

She supervised our makeover. She had us spend a lot of time on eyeshadow and the lipstick. I remember those early days as 13-year olds when Judy and I first experimented with makeup. We tended to overdo it. We never put on this much, yet Mrs. Larson knew what she was doing. Instead of the "clownish" effect that Judy and I used to achieve, the Lady made us look dark, mysterious and haughty. Instead of looking cheap, Judy and I took on an evil, sinister and dominating appearance.

I looked at the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I didn't recognize the person looking back at me. The sweet, almost innocent-looking teenaged girl that walked into the room was replaced by an intriguing leather-clad mistress. I looked at Judy. I've seen her at her best -- when she was out to tease cock, but I never saw her look so sexy.

The Lady dismissed us with, "Go downstairs and join the Lord and his subjects."

We got downstairs in time to watch the boys move the last of the blue saw horses into the exact spot indicated by Lord Larson. Lady Larson came down a couple of minutes later wearing an outfit similar to ours.

In her leather clothing there was no doubt that she was in charge. She, at least, was used to wearing the boots. She strutted with a powerful confidence. Her whole posture broadcasted dominance. If there were an antithesis of purity, innocence and virtue, she was it. She put down an overnight bag she brought with her.

I recovered from my shock long enough to notice that the boys were looking at us with mouths open and crotches bulging. The Lord said, "Lady, this is your show. I shall sit back and enjoy. Please don't disappoint me."

"Very well, my Lord." Turning, she snapped at the boys, "Take your clothes off. All of them. NOW!"

The boys gave a quick glance at Mr. Larson who ignored them entirely as he sat inspecting a fingernail that might have had a slight imperfection. They knew that there would be no reprieve from that quarter. Nonetheless, they tried to protest.

At the very first utterance, Mr. Larson raised his hand to indicated he wanted silence and proclaimed, "Let me handle this, Amanda." He turned to the boys. "Don't be impertinent, young man. There is never an excuse for impropriety with your superiors. You seem to forget why you are here. You are here to atone for your lack of discipline. If you can't discipline yourselves, We shall do it for you."

"Also, you must consider your future. I am aware of the basketball team's fifteen-and-one record. It's the best record the school has seen in decades. The chaps on the sports page predict a state championship. I believe them. There will be other boys on other teams in other years. They won't have the chance you have."

"There is also the possibility of scholarship. I am certain you wouldn't enjoy explaining to your parents the circumstances of your getting booted from the team and from school. I'm sure they won't like being reminded of it every time they write a tuition check."

"Now, surely, all this is worth preserving. All you have to do is indulge Lady Larson and the girls in this little whim of theirs."

Mr. Larson quickly shut down any resistance the boys might have thought of raising. Hesitantly, they started to get undressed. Jim tossed his shirt over one of the horses. Lord Larson exploded, "What are you doing, young man? This is a disciplinary action. You will not treat it as some sort of holiday. You will fold each article of clothing neatly and place it on a chair."

The other boys didn't need to be told to do the same. Pretty soon we had three very neatly folded piles of clothes on three chairs, and three naked teen-aged athletes standing in front of us each with his penis at full attention.

Judy and I had seen naked boys before, so I don't know why this felt so exciting. My head felt giddy, my stomach was cramping and my legs were wobbly. All of this, added to the instability of the sky-high heels, made me lose my balance and I had to grab hold of a piece of furniture to keep from falling.

In all my previous sexual experiences, I felt so sure about myself. Now, a little girl's voice within me was crying, "I'm only sixteen. I'm too young for this." This voice was in an argument with another, more powerful voice that said, "Don't worry about it girl. You've seen this before. It's time you grew up and became a woman. You're entitled to some fun."

I watched as Lady Larson took each boy by the hand and led him to stand in front of a saw horse. She assigned each of us a boy. She was responsible for Jim, Judy took care of Jay, and I was to be in charge of Carl.

She handed Judy and I each a silk pillow and showed us how she wanted it placed over the horse. "Now, take your boy and have him bend over the pillow like this," she said, using Jim as a prop to demonstrate. Instead of having him lie along the length of the bar as I expected, she had Jim bend over the bar. His legs were on one side of the horse, and his arms were in the other.

I could see how cleverly Mr. Larson had the boys customize their own horses so that their mid-sections could be raised comfortably. Each spanking frame was perfectly matched the boy's stature.

"Next," continued the lady, "you fasten the boy's wrists and legs to each leg of the frame like so".

Soon we had three boys tied in a bent-at-the-waist, spread-eagle position over the frames, their butts being the highest elevated and most vulnerable part of their bodies.

Lady Larson had Judy and I survey the three gorgeous "boy butts" hiked on high for our pleasure. Being athletes, there wasn't a trace of flab on any of them. They were perfectly shaped, and so muscular -- a prime example of the male gluteus maximus.

Lady Larson reached into her bag and pulled out a riding crop. "I call this toy donder -- thunder, if you will."

"You girls must learn the proper way to disciple boys. These," she said using her crop as a pointer in a sweeping motion to indicate panorama of male posteriors, "have been bad boys. They deserve a spanking. You will be taught how to give them one."

"The most important thing to remember is 'Safety first. Although the boys are in good physical shape, we still have to take care to spank them only on the proper parts of their bodies. Don't get on the legs."

Here she whacked out at Jim's butt. It was so sudden it took me unawares. I saw her pull her hand back. There was a blur, the air sizzled, and she planted the crop at the very bottom of his cheeks with a sharp cracking sound. Thunder was right! The sound was exactly like the first startling crack of thunder before the rumbling starts, and it was just as loud. I jumped back and tightened my body in surprise. Jim yelped and tightened his body in pain.

"See. Don't get any lower than that," she said, pointing to the vivid red stripe to show where she had struck him.

"Likewise, you don't want to get too close to the boy's back." She cracked down on the top of his butt and added a second welt to his ass.

"Anywhere else in between," she said, flagellating him with rapid but not as hard stokes, "is fair game." Jim was beyond screaming now and was grunting as the blows landed.

After Lady Larson made several dozen red sting marks on Jim's ass, she stopped. She continued her tutoring, "Above all, stay away from the kidneys and testicles." She demonstrated by rubbing and tapping the end of the crop over the areas to avoid.

The next thing you girls will have to learn is how to handle the crop. "Here, take it in your hand," she said handing it to me. I felt uncomfortable holding it. "Get a good grip on it," my instructrix continued, "and take a couple of practice swings. Use the end of the saw horse as a target."

I got a lot more confident, and felt a lot less silly after I actually got a couple of "hits" under my belt. Mrs. Larson had some more advice for me, "That's pretty good, but you have to put more wrist into it. Pretend you're swinging a tennis racket. Just before you make contact, snap your wrist."

She was right. I could feel the extra power in my stroke as I attempted to accelerate the whip through the board.

Judy's turn came next. She was a lot more athletic than I was. She played handball with her cousin quite a bit, so not only were her muscles better developed, she also had her timing and aiming down better than me. She caught on really fast.

"Now it's time for you try it 'for real'," Lady Larson said as she handed me the crop. I took up my position over Carl.

"Show me the lower limit," she commanded. I swatted Carl.

"You have the right place, but you didn't hit him hard enough. Do it again."

I raised the crop again, and brought it down again. This time Carl yelled. Jesus, I had gotten so much into my technique that I forgot I was spanking a real boy! I started to feel that funny inner sensation that being in a position of power over a male brings out in me.

"That's better. Now show me the lower limit."

I took another swipe.

"That's too high. Do it again. Lower."

"Not bad," she commented, "but you have to learn to hit more squarely. A glancing blow loses some effectiveness. Are you afraid to hit him?"

"No, madam!" I said firmly.

I certainly hope so. Don't forget, the boys deserve what they are getting. It's for their own good. You're really doing them a favor. We'll just have to build up your strength. You'll catch on in time. I'll teach you some exercises you can practice at home. Right now, practice on Carl. Give him a good dozen swats."

When I had watched Lady Larson spank Jim, it was with an absorbed fascination that kept my mind off of what was really going on. I had wondered if I could really do it myself. Now that it came down to it, I found out not only that I could do it but that I really wanted to do it. I still felt unnatural doing it, but it excited me. Half of my mind told me it was perverse. The other half argued how much fun it was doing it.

My mind was swirling. I was getting drunk on dominance! It was hard to tell which excited my inner sexual urges more: getting a spanking, or giving one. I was dimly aware that I was spanking Carl. I wasn't really paying attention, swat-for-swat. It was the idea that I was spanking a boy that got to me. I was so lost in my role as his disciplinarian, that Lady Larson had to wake me from my reverie.

"That's enough, dear -- Susan, do you hear me?" I heard her say as if from a great distance. I slowly came out of my dream. I could hear Carl sobbing. I looked at his ass. There were red stripes everywhere. I looked at Judy, her eyes were wide in disbelief.

Lady Larson came over to me, put her hand on my arm, and gently said, "Hand the crop to Judy. Let her do Jay."

I watched Judy in action. I wondered if she got the same fire inside her as was still smoldering in me. Soon Jay's ass had stripes just like the ones on his friends' asses.

Lady Larson gave us a rest before continuing the lesson. "The crop is a good toy to make them scream, but you can't use it too much. We don't want to damage them. We just want them to remember how to behave. Let me show you how to use the paddle."

She brought out a large, but very light-weight wooden paddle. "This," she said, "is blitzen -- lightening. You can swing with all your might." She took a roundhouse swat at Jim's ass. The paddle landed with the sound of an exploding fire cracker. The impact left a red mark over a third of his ass cheek, but it wasn't as dark as the marks left by the crop.

She administered five more well-aimed, full-armed swings to his butt. By the time she was done, there wasn't a white spot on it.

"Here, I have a paddle for each of us," she said as she distributed our new toys. "Now, you try it on your boys."

I swung my paddle at Carl like I saw her do Jim. It felt funny wielding something that had almost no weight, but landed with such force. It took a while to get used to the sound it made. It was so loud. My eyes blinked every time I made contact, yet I could see Carl's skin reverberate with every spank.

This was better than sex -- or maybe it was sex. It was all new to me, but I felt the same kind of control I got when I masturbated a boy. Dominance of this type was something I craved. It was like a drug. I was hooked, and I knew I had to keep coming back.

I found myself breathing heavily. I don't think it was from the physical exercise either. Yes, I knew that my arms would get tired if I had to keep this up for long, but I put in nowhere near the physical exertion that was needed to make my heart pound and race the way it was. I was sweating, my hair was lank, but I didn't care.

Lady Larson watched Judy and I and coached us carefully. After we each planted about a dozen swats on our punishees, she said, "Feel his butt." I did. It was hot. The heat was just radiating from every patch of his skin. I put the back my hand to my face. It felt the same way.

I couldn't believe that I'd actually liked doing this. Power like this was like an aphrodisiac. I was getting off on this. I felt my insides doing those same crazy things it does when I masturbate myself. I could feel a trickle of moisture running down my leg.

I tried to collect myself as I watched Judy finish metering her punishment to Jay. I never saw her so excited about anything. She was whacking away with such enthusiasm that Lady Larson had to slow her down. She, too, was flush when she finished. She looked at me and grinned. The only way to describe her expression was "evil."

Lady Larson gave us the keys and we unlocked the boys. All of them had pulsating erections dripping copiously with precome.

Lord Larson broke his long silence, "Well, girls, you've done a smashing good job -- if you pardon the pun. The boys look properly chastised. Now I want you to go back upstairs and get back into your street clothes. When you have accomplished that task, report back here."

I felt weak, but very satisfied as I climbed the stairs. Nonetheless, it felt good to splash cold water on my face after washing off the make up. Lady Larson showed us where to place our new clothes. Judy and I transformed from our evil mistress personas to sweet sixteen again.

Lady Larson also changed into more casual garb. She looked very much like an ordinary middle-aged woman you'd see in the super market on any afternoon. When we returned, we found the boys still naked, and the benches put away.

Lord Larson had a new task for us. "You girls will show Lady Larson the things you do to boys to make them come. I've taken the liberty of having her procure the necessary items."

Lady Larson emptied out the bathing caps and rubber balls from her bag of tricks. She looked at her own besneakerd feet and purred, "Mmmm this promises to be fun. Lord Earl, we are going to have fun tonight!"

It seems the lord had his own secret pleasures.