Of course, I hadn’t realized that with Doreen, there was always a way.
“I’ll give you to three,” she said, standing there like a queen regarding an insubordinate subject. “And if you aren’t out of the bathroom by then, I’m going to spank that lush ass of yours until you promise to behave.”
Jesus Christ, lady, I said—in my head—where did you come from? I knew the answer to that: Vegas. But my query went deeper than that. How had she known the buzz words to say to me? How had she guessed what I thought about at night, long after my roommate had dropped off to sleep, when I finally gave in and touched myself. Doreen wasn’t a queen. She was an X-rated fairy godmother. And now I had to decide whether to do what she said, or get what I wanted.
“I’m not walking naked down the hall,” I heard myself tell her, taking a stand. It was a test. Would she pass? Would I?
Doreen shook her head. “Here I am, trying to help out a poor girl in need, and all I’m getting is lip.”
She was towering over me in seconds, dragging me by the ear to the wooden bench in front of the showers. Then she sat down and hauled me over her lap and her hand came down in a series of supremely stinging slaps, blows that had me squirming and kicking from the start.
I’d been fantasizing about being spanked for longer than I could remember, but I’d had no idea of what the actual pain involved might be. The pain and, of course, the pleasure because both came together. I could hardly wrap my mind around the fact that this gorgeous woman, who I’d never even been formally introduced to, was now heating my curvaceous hind end. But she was, talking darkly as she spanked me.
“Bad girl needs a bit of a tune-up, I’d say. Lose some of that haughty attitude. Next time I’m going to send you out to cut your own switch.”
I almost came right then.
Doreen shoved me off her lap.
“Now,” she said, “I’d suggest you follow me to my room.”
I went meekly, aware that I was sporting blush-red rear cheeks as I followed the stunning minx down the hall. To my complete relief, we ran into none of our fellow dormmates. Perhaps Doreen had known all of the rest of the clan would be out—at parties or on dates. Far more likely was the fact that she simply didn’t care.
I sighed as she shut the door to her room, and then I waited, realizing that although I had safely walked unseen down the hall, I was now locked into a small square room with an extremely unpredictable female. I looked around wildly. Doreen had the room to herself—the other girl, beset with homesickness, had dropped out to move back to Chico. There was no chance we’d be interrupted.
Doreen regarded me with those dark, gold-flecked eyes. “Panties,” she said, “pretty ones. And a simple camisole. Do you a world of good.” She headed to her own dresser drawer and started pulling out different items, until finally she’d spread out a whole array on her bed. “Try them on,” she said. “I know we’ll find something that suits you.”
I hesitated only long enough for her to come to my side and set one firm hand on my still smarting ass. “I wasn’t kidding about the switch, sweetheart. You’re begging for me to get angry.”
I moved quickly after that. Slipping on a white lace camisole and a matching pair of lace bikinis. Doreen admired the view for a moment before shaking her head and offering over another. She had me in scarlet lace, then a swirl of lavender, before ultimately settling finally on a dove-gray chemise. The material felt luxurious against my skin. Why had I robbed myself of this sensual sensation? Why had I always insisted on the no-nonsense menswear fabrics, from plain cotton to scratchy synthetics?
Doreen was beaming at me, and then she turned me so that I could see my reflection in the mirror on the back of her closet door. “Pretty,” she said, “right?”
“The slip is,” I observed, hesitant. I couldn’t agree to anything else. That not only was the nightie pretty, but that I was, as well.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, spinning me around once more, then pressing her full lips to mine and kissing me. A shudder worked instantly through my body, an intense rush of pleasure that had me breathless when we parted, but desperate not to stop. I reached out to her, and she grinned and swatted my hands away, her dark skin against my light. “Not yet,” she said. “You wait.”
“For what?” The words escaped before I could stop them. I could tell already that Doreen had to be in charge. But my legs were weak from the kiss and I didn’t want to pause. Not even for an instant.
“Sit down.”
I perched on the edge of her bed, staring up at her. She came closer to me, stroking my hair off my face, running her fingertips over my cheekbones, resting her thumbs on my bottom lip.
“You’re pretty,” she said again, softly this time. “You’re pretty, even in the baggy clothes. Hidden, maybe, but still. I’ve watched you since I got here. I’ve seen the way you hide yourself. The problem isn’t what’s on the outside. It’s in here—” She tapped her fingertips against my temples next. “Let me show you.”
While I stared, heart racing, she reached for a heavy-handled wooden brush. Then she sat down on the bed, and motioned for me to climb over her lap. I knew what was coming now, and I knew how wet I was. Still, I felt embarrassed. But one look in her eyes let me know not to hesitate.
Over her lap I went once more, and now she lifted the silky chemise in the back, revealing my naked, blushing rear. This was sexier than in the bathroom. The feel of the sumptuous fabric rustling over my skin, the sensation of her pressing the smooth back of the brush against me once before she started. Started for real.
&
nbsp; She didn’t go slow. She didn’t begin with a pat-a-cake type spanking to warm me up. Doreen punished me with serious strokes, the heavy wood bouncing against my bare skin, and I was crying out by the time she let go of the brush. But this time, she didn’t push me off her lap. This time, she dropped one hand between my legs and slowly began to touch my pussy. Wetness immediately enveloped the tips of her fingers as she stroked up and down between my nether lips. I was drenched.
“My bad girl likes that,” Doreen crooned, continuing to touch me just right. She made dangerous little circles around my clit as my hips twitched on her lap. I was begging, softly, crooning nonsense words to her, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t stop. And this time, she didn’t. She teased me with the tips of her strong fingers until I came, shuddering over her lap, my body on fire with the power of the orgasm. It was just what I’d dreamed of. Just what I thought about late at night, my fingers making similar rotations as I tried my best to come quietly in my bed.
Doreen held me after that. Sat me up on her lap, so that we were pressed together, the chemise sticking to my sweat-sheened skin, her arms firm around me. My face was tear-streaked, but I didn’t care. My heavy bangs were in my eyes, hair a jumble of midnight curls, when Doreen finally stood me up once more, led me back to the mirror.
I looked different now. I had to admit that.