APHRODITE ACADEMY by Lindsay Lockwood Chapter 2 - An Introductory Course
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following chapter contains sex between a transgender girl and a cis man, and features chastity devices, light BDSM, leather, and spanking. If this isn't your bag, feel free to skip this chapter.
As mentioned last time, each chapter revolves around a different fetish or combination of fetishes starring the students and staff of Aphrodite Academy. You can send feedback to lockedlittleslut@proton.me, and yes, I do take requests!
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I used to think only sickos loved pain, and that sadists were monsters. If only I'd known way back then a teacher like Sir Stewart.
Sir Stewart was generous with His time. Though He only taught classes on Introductory Pain Play to juniors, and Advanced Degradation to seniors, He spent a lot of personal time giving first and second year girls a taste of things to come.
He was tall and handsome, but older than the kind of guys I usually like, and wore leather all over; not just boots, pants and jackets, but His shirts and ties were leather as well. With His age came experience, and with that experience, power of presence. Sir Stewart was as much fire as He was ice; as terrifying as He was arousing.
It was my roommate who'd convinced me to see Him. She told me that it was more fun than it sounded, that I didn't know what I was missing, and that nobody who'd shared a scene with Sir Stewart ever regretted it. I told her that there was always a first, and I'd probably be it. The only way to prove her wrong would be to actually do it.
An involuntary shiver ran through me the moment I stepped into His room. It didn't matter that I was fully clothed, I'd never been so naked as I was when He assessed me. He searched my expression, my stance, for signs of vulnerability; and though I tried to hide them, He probably saw them all.
"You're going to tell me everything," He said, dispassionately.
I stammered. "About what?"
"Your sins," He said. "Every kiss, every touch. Then you'll be `punished' appropriately."
Sins', He said, like everything we did wasn't encouraged by the Academy. A smart' girl might have kept her mouth shut, dodged the pain, but a man like Sir Stewart probably had ways of drawing out the truth; not to mention the likely tortures that followed secrets and lies.
He took my hand, sat on the bed, and guided me to His lap. His leather pants crunched as I lowered my weight. The briefest flash of warmth soothed my nerves, and though I knew it would pass I didn't stop from melting.
"Have you blown any of the other girls?" He asked.
I nodded. "A few."
"Tell me their names."
That wasn't a short list. I counted at least half of my dorm, including my roommate; a laundry list of sophomores, juniors and seniors, not to mention the instructors who insist on `hands on' methods of tutoring. Head was practically a hobby at the Aphrodite Academy, shared by every student there.
Sir Stewart lifted my chin with a finger. "I'm glad we can be honest with each other, Ellie. It'll save a lot of time and pain if you're always as forthright." He guided me to my feet again, and gestured for me to lay across His legs.
My thighs clasped together. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to spank you," He said. "One strike for every lover you've gone down on. I think that's only fair."
No, I didn't think it was fair; but I didn't say it out loud. I tried not to think about my clit pressed against steel, running hot with fear and anticipation.
Sir Stewart grimaced. "Come now, Ellie. Don't you want to be a good girl? The sooner you receive your punishment, the sooner it will be over." He tone iced over. "You wouldn't want me to force you."
Slowly, I lowered to the floor and sat on my knees. He beckoned me across His lap, and to make myself vulnerable. I did. Sir Stewart then lifted my skirt, peeled my panties down, and with a gloved hand took firm handfuls of my cheeks. He made no attempt to fuck me with His fingers. All He did was measure how soft I was against how hard He could be.
He reached from behind and pulled my pearls over the cage's steel ring. I yelped, but only because I was surprised. I could feel the muted delight in His eyes that raked over me; a reminder that His control was absolute.
"Are you ready?" He asked, except He wasn't asking.
The first swat made me jump, but didn't ache. He was testing my limits. After all, some girls are more sensitive than others.
"Count," He said.
I lowered my head. "One."
"Very good."
He didn't wait to land the second. It came hard and fast, breaking the air with a snap, and stung my ass with blunt force. Already I could feel the tingle.
"Two," I said, wavering.
I didn't have to see His smile to know it. Something in the way He breathed, the way His hand circled the growing redness, said it all. What the other girls had told me was true: he'd enjoy hurting me just as much as he'd enjoy making me enjoy it.
A third swat cracked against skin. I arched from the twinge jolting up my body. He didn't allow a moment of rest, and encouraged the fire under flesh by massaging my bare ass. People really got off on this? And yet, despite my confusion, I was determined to see it through.
"How many?" He said.
"Three," I whimpered.
He hummed in approval, and the spankings continued in quick succession. Four, five, six, seven - my ass grew more swollen the moreHe struck. My endurance waned the more He tenderized with His hand.
Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two - all those dicks in my mouth, and all those loads swallowed lead to this inevitable conclusion, shaking my body and filling it with pain. I squealed and writhed, as though I had any hope of escaping Sir Stewart's grasp; as though there was any avoiding the brutal sting of His glove.
I choked on sobs as tears ran down my cheeks. It was too much, and I could barely count! That alone was enough to slow Sir Stewart, allowing me the mercy of a moment to collect my words. Or perhaps it was His way of drawing it out; the ache didn't cease with the rhythm we'd found.
In that session I learned that I'd swallowed at least sixty-three different cocks in my first semester, who knows how many times! At any other time I would have been proud.
It was only once the punishment was over that I felt the comforting wave of endorphins. My body burned from head to toe from the fire throbbing in my ass. Pain sizzled in my nerves, shaking as my limbs processed it. It was only then that I realized that maybe, just maybe, I kinda liked it.
Sir Stewart hushed me and stroked my hair. He lavished soft praise in words I couldn't comprehend. All I know is that they made me good, made me beautiful, and that I'd served Him well.
"Don't get too comfortable," He said. "We're not done."
My heart froze with the words, and beat wildly again when He guided me to my feet.He led me, shaking, to the middle of the room, once again for inspection. He bent down, lifted my feet one by one through the legs of my panties, and stood to unbutton my blouse.
He took His time removing my uniform, and I was exposed one piece at a time. Button by button, He made sure that I swam in the anticipation of I didn't know what. Someone less brave would have run, not trusted the experience of His hand, but I couldn't, even if I wanted to.
Next He unclipped my bra, slid the straps down my shoulders, and let my small breasts fall free. He allowed Himself a flash of lust as He cupped one, and tweaked my nipple between His index finger and thumb. I jumped. Even the slightest sensation was amplified beyond their limits.
He walked me to the other side of the room, to where an X-shaped cross stood mounted to the wall. In each corner was a shackle on a chain; the sight of which caused me, involuntarily, to hug my hands to my chest. If I thought I was exposed before, Sir Stewart would soon correct it.
"Give me your wrists," He commanded.
Shakily, I did as instructed. The leather bands closed around my wrists. I flopped, halfway to being a ragdoll, causing them to bite into my skin. It was enough to prompt me to stand, even if my legs were about to collapse.
Sir Stewart raked His fingers up the back of my thigh, homing on the redness under my skirt. I tensed. My cheeks begged to be spared more pain, but they wouldn't refuse if He had more. I burned against His touch, flaring into the cup of His hand, and whimpered.
The satisfaction in His voice was as rich as honey. "I've been taking things easy so far. You've a long way to go if you ever want to be a good pain slut."
He gripped me, sparking new fires, new whimpers.
"What do you say, Ellie?" He asked, dispassionately. "Do you think you've been punished enough?"
His tone left me starving of the approval I craved from anyone else. I was a slut, born to please; to please Him I would have to go deeper, harder - for Him I would have to hurt.
"Answer me," He said.
I shook my head.
Sir Stewart smiled audibly and stepped away. That morsel was enough to spurn me on. It was so sweet that I would have done anything for more.
Something soft flapped in His hand. He leaned close and ran leather strings between my shoulders. I bristled at the touch, lost somewhere between helplessness and arousal. No matter how much I flinched, the cuffs wouldn't give. My clit strained against steel, pulsing almost as wildly as the welts.
"Tell me what you are," He said.
I searched for words, but found none. The strands whipped my back, softly, but that doesn't matter when your senses are standing on a knife edge.
"You're a slut," He said. "Say it."
My breath wavered. "I... I'm a slut."
The whip landed again, lashing the expanse between shoulders. I convulsed, pulling myself up, like fighting an electricity as it sizzled my nerves; but I quickly tired, and drooped.
"What kind of a slut?" He asked, and lashed again, then again, bringing the whip down in a steady, criss-cross rhythm.
I mumbled through the haze, "a dirty slut..."
"You are a dirty slut," He said, never missing a beat. "And what do dirty sluts deserve?"
Left, right, left, right, my shoulders gave like meat. Their resistance had gone, and I was open to the full sensations inflicted by Sir Stewart.
"They... deserve to be punished..."
His voice hardened, as did the next blow. "One more time. Get it right."
"Deserve to be punished, Sir!" I gasped.
He teased and He taunted, prompting clumsy, half-formed confessions about everyone I'd fucked, everyone I wanted to fuck; my secrets and fantasies, along with those I'd never acknowledged out loud. If this was what easy looked like, I dreaded what else lingered in that imagination of his.
Sweat poured down the aches and stings as thick as freely as the tears running down my cheeks. I could feel streaks of pink etched onto the skin between my shoulders, and the furious reds and purples on the back of my thighs and swollen ass.
Sir Stewart was tender as He unshackled my wrists, and supported by weight as I dropped. He guided me with a hand at the small of my back toward the edge of the bed, and lowered me to the floor.
"You took your punishment like a good girl," He said. "I think it's time for a reward."
I'd barely registered the words before He unzipped His leather pants and unleashed the beautiful thing bulging inside it. All that were left of my inhibitions had been annihilated, so there was nothing to stop my mouth from collapsing over it. It was a lazy blowjob that had His cock resting at the back of my throat; Sir Stewart twisted my hair to manually fuck my face.
I gasped and I choked, but did my best to accommodate. I was top of my class in Oral Sex 101, and had a reputation to maintain. What would the other girls think if they thought I couldn't finish?
He came moments later, taking no time to savor my throat. At that moment I wasn't a person; just a sex toy in the shape of a girl, and no less disposable. Once leaving the bitter taste of His cream, Sir Stewart shoved me to the carpet where I collapsed in a heap.
"Pick up your things and get out," He said, "and be sure to drink plenty of water. You're going to need it."
With that, Sir Stewart stood and left the room, leaving me alone to stew in what I'd endured. My chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and I was a while away from standing. I'd been used before, but never like that; never with so little care. The humiliation was glorious! Maybe he'd punish me again for swallowing an extra cock.