Hard Corps (15 page)

I started to lap her shoe, carefully cleaning the blob of dirt from the sole with my tongue. I tried to swallow it quickly, as I continued my oral homage to this woman. I had to admit that, even though I hated her, she had a style about her. She had a commanding presence. If only she could get past the bully phase, she might someday be a worthy dominatrix.

My jaws were aching and my tongue felt like raw sandpaper when at last I felt a tug on my hair. I thought at first it was Dr Wellington, granting me a reprieve at last. But when I looked up, I saw it was Jean herself. She actually patted my head and smiled at me.

‘See,’ Dr Wellington said, obviously pleased. ‘That wasn’t so bad. For either of you. You both have shown real potential to be a part of the life. And now girls, I get to have some fun. I like to watch. I want to watch you two sexy things kiss and make up. Oh, and to quote my little friend Jean here, do it like you mean it.’

I knew exactly what she wanted, though Jean seemed a little slow on the uptake. Dr Wellington prompted her a little bit more as I kneeled up and back on my heels. ‘Let this slave girl help you off with your corset, Jean, dear. Don’t forget you are still a novice, too, and as such, at my command. Let’s even the field a bit. Get naked and then kiss this lovely blonde girl. Like you mean it.’

Jean stood, a little shakily, and for a moment I almost felt sorry for her. I was used to being naked and exposed at this point, but apparently it was something new to her. She blushed prettily as I stood behind her and untied the satin bows and released the little hooks that held her tightly in place. She leaned forward slightly, allowing the corset to fall. I took it and laid it carefully on the couch near Dr Wellington, who smiled sweetly at me. Then I unzipped Jean’s little leather skirt and she stepped out of it, still in her stiletto heels. I placed the skirt with her corset and returned, waiting for direction.

‘Don’t forget the shoes, though you do look lovely like that, Jean, naked in your spike heels. But I want you both naked, and facing each other.’ As the professor spoke, Jean stepped out of her shoes and kicked them toward me. I took them and set them neatly standing on the floor by the couch.

I had actually seen her naked before, in the showers, but somehow I had never noticed her petite figure, or at least I hadn’t appreciated it. Her breasts were small and high, with dark-brown nipples standing out against her tan skin. Her hips flared slightly from her small waist. Her little pubic patch was lush with short, black curls.

Dr Wellington settled back, clearly having a good time. ‘Now, the fun begins. Start with a kiss, my darlings.’

Jean seemed almost shy as she approached me. Gone was the tough-girl swagger, gone was the competitive cadet. In her place stood a naked young woman, though admittedly one who had just beaten me. My flesh still stung from her crop. And now we were supposed to ‘kiss and make up’. I had never kissed a girl before. She leaned toward me, her hands clasped protectively around her own waist. I leaned down, as scared as she was, until our lips met. Her face was so soft against my own.

After a moment of chaste kisses, her lips parted slightly and her tongue licked across my lips. I parted my own, finding myself curiously eager for her kiss, for the invasion of her tongue. We were still only touching at the mouth, our naked bodies held away from each other by our uncertainty. A word from Dr Wellington changed that.

‘Yes. That’s right. All wrongs between you are righted now, my little girls. Now make love to each other. Girls can be so tender where men are so rough. Let your bodies come together. Taste that special sweetness of female flesh.’ Her low voice was even lower than usual, husky with her own apparent lust. Still, she made no move to come to us, or to have us serve her directly. As she said, she liked to watch.

Perhaps it was the freedom of having been given a direct order. Neither of us had to wonder if we were gay or if we wanted this. We simply had to obey orders. Both of us certainly understood that concept. I wondered briefly how this girl, who had called me a ‘dyke bitch’ back at the beginning of the term, was going to handle being forced to interact sexually with another girl, to make love to her.

I forgot to wonder as she reached out and gently fondled my breasts. Her hands sent an electric current of pleasure through me. As if in a dance we’d practised many times before, we leaned forward into each other, falling slowly together to the soft carpet. Our arms wrapped around each other as we continued to kiss.

Jean’s hand crept down my belly to my blonde, pubic curls that covered my dark-pink and now swollen labia. I felt her fingers reach out to touch and explore. I moaned with pleasure as she found my clit. I was soaked with desire by now.

Leaning my own head down, I found her dark nipples already stiff with need. Gingerly, I took one into my mouth. It felt wonderful, at once soft and erect. I rolled it with pleasure between my teeth, eliciting a little moan from Jean. She lay back flat on her back and I followed her, my mouth unwilling to let go of that perfect little marble of feminine flesh from between my teeth. After several moments Dr Wellington again intervened.

‘Jean, you’ve done this before. You take the lead. Pleasure this young woman as if she were your mistress.’

The idea at once frightened and excited me. As I lay back, Jean dutifully crawled between my legs, which she spread far apart. The Oriental carpet felt rough against my still-tender skin. I forgot any discomfort as her tongue crept out and licked my outer lips. I stayed still, but I was very aroused. I wasn’t sure how I was allowed to react. Should I stay still and quiet, as with the beating, or let myself go? After a second, her hot little tongue darted out again, and this time she didn’t stop, but began to explore the folds and secret places of my sex.

As the pleasure washed over me, I was struck by Dr Wellington’s remark that Jean had done this before. Perhaps a part of learning to dominate involved submission as well. An intriguing idea that was quickly forgotten as Jean’s tongue and fingers shut down my conscious mind, turning me over to complete pleasure and lust. It didn’t matter how I was ‘supposed’ to react: I could no longer control myself. I was in heaven.

Just as I was about to come, I heard Dr Wellington’s commanding voice from the haze of my arousal. ‘Stop now, Jean. We don’t need to let the little slut come. She hasn’t earned that right yet.’ Oh, God. Shades of Jacob and his constant denials were brought back and I almost cried out in frustration. My pussy was on fire and so swollen I could barely close my legs as Dr Wellington commanded me to get up and stand at attention.

While I stood, forcing myself not to whimper with frustrated need, she said, ‘Come over here, Jean. Let’s let the slut girl service us both at once. Sit here on the couch with me.’ As she spoke, Dr Wellington lifted her shapely little ass from the cushions and slid off her underwear. With a kick, the little, red-satin panties landed at my feet. Jean eagerly sat next to Dr Wellington, who at once took her in her arms. They were so well suited to one another, both petite and yet curvaceous, though Jean’s body was strong and angular, where Dr Wellington’s was softer and more feminine.

I would have again felt too big and awkward, except that I was too busy drinking in the sight of those two lovely women caught in each other’s arms. They both spread their legs wide. I trembled slightly as I kneeled before them. Dr Wellington’s pussy was shaved bare, something I had never seen before. Her labia were a lovely dark pink, and already swollen with lust, spreading prettily so that her entrance was exposed. The contrast was striking: the pale, white skin and naked pussy of the professor, and the darker, honey-brown flesh of Jean’s thighs, with the dark, silken pubic curls partially obscuring her pussy. They were both beautiful.

For the moment, they ignored me completely. Jean unbuttoned Dr Wellington’s blouse, pulling it open to reveal two perfect, little round breasts tipped with rosy, pert nipples. The two women seemed comfortable together; I got the distinct impression that not only had Jean done this before, but with Dr Wellington.

She disentangled herself from Jean’s embrace long enough to say to me, ‘Get to it, slave. You may worship my pussy with your mouth while you use your hand for Mistress Dillon.’ She pulled my head forward, grabbing a handful of my hair, mashing my face into her hot, open crotch. For a moment I was paralysed. It was one thing to allow another woman to kiss me there, but to do it myself? To lick someone’s spread pussy? To suckle and kiss the hot little folds of flesh? I didn’t think I wanted to. I was scared; I was shy. What if it tasted funny?

A sudden thwack to my back startled me enough to cause me to yelp. Dr Wellington had used the crop on me and at the same time she said, her voice less patient, ‘Slave, obey orders. Now.’

That was that. I had no choice. Licking my lips nervously, I opened my mouth, and allowed my tongue to cautiously taste the musky scent of her pussy. In truth, she didn’t have much of a taste at all. But there was a heady, spicy scent, mingled with her perfume. I liked the feel of her silky lips against my mouth. As I started to lick and suckle her the way Jean had just done to me, she let out a soft moan, which was muffled by Jean’s mouth on hers.

I remembered that I was expected to pleasure Jean, too. Reaching out my right hand, I found her delicate little pussy and pressed my finger into her opening. It was so hot and tight as the muscles clamped down on my finger. I continued to kiss Dr Wellington, exploring the folds of her hot pussy with my mouth.

Dr Wellington fell back, opening her legs further for my access. She took my head in both her hands and held me in position as she gyrated on my face. Jean leaned over her, suckling her nipples. Faster and faster Dr Wellington moved, mashing my open mouth against her very hot, swollen pussy. I could feel the little nub of her clit against my tongue. But I wasn’t kissing her; she was using my face and mouth, fucking herself on me. After a few more moments she tensed and shuddered, crying out with passion as she came. She let go of my head and let her own fall back against the back of the couch.

I leaned back on my heels, watching as her spasms subsided. Her face and neck were flushed. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked down at me, giving me a lovely smile. Then she said, ‘Not done with your duties yet, slave girl.’ She pointed toward Jean, who smiled like a cat as she lay back, spreading her legs wide.

I moved over toward her. My jaws were aching and my face was smeared with my own saliva and Dr Wellington’s juices. But I didn’t even have a chance to wipe my mouth against my shoulder when Jean grabbed my head and forced me down on her lap. At once I started to lick and tease her pussy. She tasted different from Dr Wellington: slightly salty but not at all unpleasant. I concentrated on the task at hand, hoping she would come soon so I could rest.

I wasn’t disappointed. After only a few moments, Jean’s breathing quickened. She started to shudder and moan and I continued to lick her hard little clit. Suddenly she pushed my head back and rubbed her own pussy with her hand. With the other hand she slapped my cheek, hard.

Tears leaped to my eyes and a hand flew to the spot where she had struck me. Jean ignored me, coming hard and long, with Dr Wellington cooing over her and kissing her breasts as she did so. As her orgasm ebbed, Dr Wellington held her in her arms. I felt very alone and naked at their feet, confused and frustrated.

At length, Dr Wellington noticed me there. ‘Oh, look at our poor little lamb. Are you worried that you somehow offended Mistress Dillon here? Don’t worry, it’s just a little quirk of hers. She likes to slap someone when she is coming. Such a pervert!’ They both laughed, Dr Wellington with a low, throaty chuckle, while Jean’s laughter was higher-pitched and girlish.

I wasn’t particularly amused, but I was relieved to know I hadn’t done anything wrong. My own pussy was still throbbing with denied release. I wondered if Dr Wellington would allow me to repeat the performance of the initiation night.

But no. She was sated and no longer interested in me or my desires. She stood slowly, stretching like a cat. Then she beckoned toward me. ‘Help me out of this, slave. You’ll find my “day” clothes in that wardrobe over there. Jean’s army-issue monstrosity is in there too. Get them.’ I did as I was told, my head still fogged with unrequited lust.

The professor allowed me to help her dress, turning gracefully to allow me to zip her up, and lifting a dainty foot for me to slide on her conservative pump of fine leather. I started to stand after putting on her shoes, but a touch of her cool hand on my bare shoulder kept me at her feet.

Jean dressed quickly, looking again like the familiar clone cadet in the uniform of the day. It was almost hard to remember the hot little girl in her leather corset and stiletto heels.

Dr Wellington spoke to me for the last time that day. ‘Remy. Once again I congratulate you. You are a slave. You’ve made it. I am taking Mistress Dillon out to celebrate now: she’s made it too. You stay here, on your knees, until we are gone. Then you may play with yourself if you like, dress, and get back to classes.’ She consulted her watch. ‘You have about fifteen minutes.’ With that, they were gone.

Part of me was angry. Angry to have been left alone, naked, on my knees, while they went off to celebrate. But then, wasn’t this just right? Wasn’t this just where I belonged? All my life I had striven to be the best and the toughest. Right now I was just a slave girl. One who had made two beautiful women come. And my mistress had given me permission to come as well.

Need overcame any false pride and I lay back to rub my hot little pussy. In a very short time I came hard, images of Jean and Dr Wellington filling my head. What a lucky little slave girl, indeed.

W
ell, it’s one thing to watch other slaves up on the little stage, going through their carefully choreographed routines. It’s quite another to be up there yourself! But Dr Wellington had decided it was time for me to get up like the rest and give a little demonstration of my supposedly acquired grace and discipline. I was assigned to perform with two males, one submissive and one dominant. We were to coordinate our own programme.