A Trip to the Principal's Office (Jana's Journey, Part One) (2 page)

“Will it hurt,” she asked. “The spanking, I mean?”

She felt his whole body seem to
expand as a huge smile broke out on his face. “Only a little, Jana.”

She nodded shyly, wiping tears from her eyes. “Okay, the spanking.”

“Very well. Lie across my lap here.”

“
Yes, sir,” she said, her lips trembling and the tears beginning to flow
more freely
now.

“Don’t cry, Jana, it will be okay.”  He stroked her hair again.

She leaned over him and moved her breasts across his lap, feeling a thrill of heat and sensation there as they encountered something hard there. She heard him gasp as well.

She settled into place, her stomach across his legs and her ass in the air, her breasts smashed against the sofa. She continued to weep quietly, her mind whirling with humiliation, fear, excitement.

“Are you ready, Jana?”

“Yes sir,” she said through her tears.

“You have to pull up your skirt for me,” he said, firmly.

She reached back and bunched up her skirt behind her.

“That’s it,
Jana. Higher … a bit higher …
”

“Yes, sir,” she felt as if she was watching herself from far away, as if she was not in control of anything anymore. Her world had changed so completely, in such a short time.

“Your panties are completely white, at least. That’s good. Are you ready?”

She nodded, afraid to speak now. She clenched her
butt
muscles and braced herself, feeling like she couldn’t catch her breath.

The first smack came like a thunderclap, sending a wave of heat and pain across her ass. She cried out.

“You can scream, Jana, this room is soundproofed. Nobody can hear you.
Nobody’s around here anyway.
”

Before she could answer, more smacks came, and her ass felt like it was on fire. She howled, wiggling across his lap, again aware of the heat spreading to her breasts and now
aware
that there was moisture between her legs.

She felt his hand wrap in her hair, holding her in place. “Do you like that, Jana? Are you a good girl?”

“Oh god! Please stop! It hurts!” she begged.

“Ask me nicely,” he said.

“It hurts! Please, stop spanking me!”

“Say, ‘please, teacher, stop spanking my ass’
.
”

She was shocked to hear him say the word ass. She started to cry harder. “Okay, please, teacher, stop spanking my ass!”

More thu
nderous smacks came down on the hot tight cheeks of her
burning ass. She cried out again.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Are you going to be a little tease?”

“No! No, I won’t!”

More spanks.

“Oh, god, why? I said no!” she begged, her head pulled back as he twisted his hand in her hair. “You’re hurting me!”

“You didn’t say sir,” he said, spanking her ass harder.

“No sir! I promise I won’t be a tease! I promise I will be a good girl! I’ll be more careful with my uniform, I’ll wear a white bra, I won’t be a tease, PLEASE
, SIR
!” she screamed.

Finally the spanks stopped. She felt his hand on her ass still, rubbing it gently, a
nd
he was stroking her hair as she sobbed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re a good girl, Jana, you did fine. Shhhh, shhhh
. I’m proud of you.” 

“Oh, god,” she moaned, wiggling back across his lap and sitting up, crying out when her reddened ass touched the sofa again, he
r
skirt still bunched around her thighs, her makeup running down her face, her hair
falling into her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I’m so so sorry.” 

“Shhhh,” he said. “It’s okay.” He put his arm around her and she cried more heavily, leaning into his chest, smelling his masculine smell. She felt her heart pounding, and her body felt so hot, the fire in her ass spreading between her legs, up her back, to her breasts.

“Now, I need to see your bra, before I can let you leave,” he said softly.

“But you saw it down my shirt already,” she sobbed. “You can see down my shirt now!”

“All of it. Come on, Jana. Be a good girl,” he said firmly. “You promised not to be a little tease again.”

“I know, I know,” she said. She leaned away from him, wiping her tears away.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl, Jana? Don’t you want to take your blouse off?”

“No,” she said miserably. “I want to go home. I’ve learned my lesson, I have,” she said, plaintively.

“I need to see your bra, all of it, and you need to do what I tell you. You showed some of it to me when you came in with those buttons
open;
you need to show me all of it.
A good girl finishes what she started, and a good girl obeys.
”

“But, I didn’t understand
… I can’t …
” she said, eyes down. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Are you ashamed of your body? Is that it?”

“No
…
“ she whined, drawing the word out. “I don’t know, you’ve got me all confused
…”

“And a good girl obeys her principal, too. Take off your blouse and show me the bra you wore today. It’s what you want, isn’t it?
”

Jana didn’t answer, her body trembling.

After a momen
t
, she leaned back, facing, him, and
unbuttoned two more buttons of her shirt, opening it to show the lacy cups of her bra. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she did so, felt her heart speed up again.

“Like this?” she asked softly.

“Yes, Jana, just like that.”  He was leaning back, and his hand was moving in his lap now. “Good girl. Stand up, take off your blouse.”

Closing her eyes, obeying without a protest, she unbuttoned the white blouse, stood up and dropped in on the floor.

She stood, breathing shallowly, almost panting, feeling the red flush on her face and her chest radiating heat. So hot. She was sure he could feel it even from a few feet away.

“You like it when men look at you, don’t you, Jana?” he asked, in a low voice.

She hesitated, then nodded.

“You know that you’re one of the most beautiful girls in this school. Such a body
…
36 C?”

“38,” she said.
She had her arms crossed below her breasts.

“You wore that bra so you could let boys look down your shirt today, didn’t you?”  he said, standing up.

She shook her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek. 

“It’s okay. You can tell me, Jana.” 

“I thought it looked nice when I put it on,” she said, opening her eyes and looking down at herself, her breasts heaving as she struggled to control her breathing.

“It does. It does look nice.
You like it when they look down your shirt, don’t you?
”

After a moment, she nodded her head again.

“But you don’t let them touch, never.”

“No, sir.” It was true. Her mother had warned her that touching would lead to other things.

“Very nice, Jana. You look very nice.” 

“Thank you, sir. May I go now?” she asked.

“No, not yet. You’re not really ready yet. You haven’t really learned your lesson yet, have you?” he asked, walking around her in a circle as she stood shyly in the center of the room in her bra.

“I don’t know
…”
she said, feeling another tear splash on her chest.

“You’re not a tease, are you?”

She shook her head violently, tossing her honey-blonde hair.
“I’m not, I’m not, stop saying that.”

“You always do what the teacher says.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, more firmly.

“Okay, take off your skirt, now,” he commanded.

Almost panting now, knowing it was wrong, but feeling a powerful jolt
of pleasure
pass through her
in surrendering
, she slipped out of her skirt and let it fall to the floor.

“How do you feel, Jana?” asked Principal Stevens.

“This is wroooongg,” she whined.

“Don’t you feel like you deserve it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Turn around, Jana. Show me your body.”

She obeyed without question now, raising her arms and doing a half-ballet turn.

“You never let the boys touch you, do you?” he asked again.

“No sir.”

“Don’t you like to be touched?”

“It’s
…
bad
…
bad things can happen.” 

He laughed at that. “Bad things. Bad things don’t happen to good girls, do they, Jana?”

He looked at here for a moment, his hand moving between his legs.
“Do you like to touch yourself?”

She shook her head again, standing still, back straight, looking down at her breasts. She couldn’t look at him; it was too powerful, she felt like she’d explode if she looked at him.

“Don’t lie to me, Jana.”

“Just
…
sometimes. In the shower, only. How can I wash if I don’t touch myself?” she asked, pleadingly.

“I mean, touching yourself for pleasure, Jana. Not washing.”

She bit her lip.

“Answer me, Jana. Where do you touch yourself for pleasure?”

“My . . . “ she
looked down at
her chest.

“Say it.”

“This seems wrong, I
…
I can’t
…
” 

She felt a stinging slap on her ass again, and she yelped.

“On the breasts! I touch my breasts sometimes, okay?” she said.

“Sir,” he reminded her.

“Yes, sir,” she sobbed.

“Say it again.”

“I touch my breasts for pleasure, sometimes, sir.”

“Just the breasts? Nowhere else?”

“
No, sir. Only the breasts.
I don’t want to . . . if I touched myself somewhere else, than I might start wanting to . . .  do bad things.”

He made a sympathetic sound behind her. “Oh, poor Jana.
Such a good girl,”
he said, and stroked her hair.
She leaned her head back into his hand and
sighed, relieved.
She was a good girl.

She was shifting nervously from foot to foot now, standing straight, eyes down, still almost panting, still feeling a wetness and heat between her legs and in her belly like she’d never experienced before.

“But nobody else has ever touched them, hmm? Wouldn’t it feel good to be touched, Jana?”

She was trembling again. She couldn’t answer him. God, it would feel so good.

“Answer me, Jana,” he said into her ear. She felt the warmth and heat of him behind her, but
he still wasn’t touching her
.

“It would feel good,” she said in a rush.

“Do you want to touch them?”

“No, it’s dirty, I don’t do dirty things,
it’s not safe,
I’m a good girl, PLEASE. . .” 

“Would you rather I touched them? Is that it? Do you want me to touch them?”

“No, please! I can’t think, you’re
…
” she had her arms crossed in front of her now, looking down at her breasts as more tears fell.

“Do you want to touch them now?” he asked into her ear, his warm breath on her neck.

“Yes,” she whimpered. Her breasts ached, the nipples so hard, it was all she could do to keep her hands off them.

“Ask me,” he said in her ear.

“Can I touch them, sir?” she whimpered.

“You may,” he said, after what seemed an eternity.

Her hands slid up her ribcage and cupped her breasts through the soft lacy bra, her small hands barely able
to cover them.

She
sighed, breathing heavily, and after a pause, she began sq
ueezing them gently.
She moaned,
feeling herself grow weak in the knees, feeling more tears flow down and splash on her cleavage.

“Shhh,” said Principal Stevens. “It’s okay, don’t cry. It’s all right.” He moved closer to her and kissed the tears off her cheek gently.

“It’s dirty,” she said, miserably. “
It’s not safe.
This isn’t right . . .” 

“Do you feel like a bad girl?” he asked, gently.

“I do,” she said.