This story is a sequel to A the Hard Way, but you don’t need to read that series to enjoy this one. Just know Professor Deacon set her sights on Emily, a first-year student she judged might be seduced by discipline. Her successful corruption of Emily was assisted by Ffion, the captain of the university’s women’s rugby team and a former student of hers. In gratitude for her help, Deacon has gifted Emily to Ffion for the weekend.
Ffion’s task is to hurt and humiliate Emily. She’s discovered Emily enjoys pain, but she’s also found out it’s difficult to humiliate someone who puts her most initimate moments online. She’s still trying, though.
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 —Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6
Saturday Afternoon
Ffion
“You are going to eat lunch.”
Emily rolls her eyes. “I’m not hungry.”
She said that when I made breakfast, so she’s survived the gym on caffeine alone. I could order her to have lunch, but she’d probably disobey, hoping for a painful punishment. Luckily, while we were working out I messaged a man with the power to change her mind.
“You need to line your stomach. We’re going to a party tonight.”
“Now I’m hungry! Whose party?”
“Alisdair. You know him: big lad, captain of the men’s team, fucked you at the Fresher’s Week party.”
“I fucked a few guys that night.”
“Well, he was the blond one with the broken nose. There’s a piss-up at his place tonight, mostly rugby players, hopefuls, and hangers-on so it will be wild, so you do need to eat something. We’re all going to Fit Birds for chicken bowls, and you’re going to eat one if I have to force it down your throat.”
She grins. “I’d let Alisdair force it down my throat.”
Emily should be careful what she wishes for. I had to make Alisdair a promise in order to persuade him to throw a party at short notice, and while I’m certain Emily will be happy to deliver on at least part of my commitment, he will invite a lot of his friends.
* * *
“What are you planning to wear?”
Emily’s eyes light up. “I bought a new microdress last week! I was going to save it for a stream, but this thing would be a full-on guarantee at any party. It’s filthy. Flaming red, slinky, and so short no boys are even gonna be looking at my boobs.”
That sounds about right for her. “What underwear?”
“It’s a G-string dress, definitely. On a stream I could wear it without panties, because I’d be in control of where people were looking. But at a party? No way. It’s too short to wear nothing.”
I’ve found Emily’s limit! I should push it. “Cool, cool. Except tonight you’re going commando. That’s an order.”
She smirks. “Will you punish me if I wear a thong?”
“I’m going to punish you anyway, for not eating breakfast. But you don’t know where the party is, so if you put underwear on I’ll just leave you here.”
She pouts while she considers her options: stay here, safe and bored, or go to the party and risk exposing herself to dozens of people.
She doesn’t take long to reach a decision. “Okay, no thong. Just don’t blame me if I get drunk and flash all your friends.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t.”
Well, she won’t get drunk, anyway. I want her making conscious, reasoned decisions tonight; decisions she’ll have to own tomorrow. So she won’t be drinking at all.
* * *
Saturday Evening
Ffion
“What do you think?”
Emily raises her arms and pirouettes, so I get the full effect of The Dress.
“It’s fine. And your ass looks perfect, which reminds me… I promised to punish you for skipping breakfast, so I will have to mar that perfection. There’s a cane in the bottom of my wardrobe. Fetch it.”
She seems more pleased with the prospect of punishment than she was with her new dress, practically skipping to the wardrobe. When she has the cane, she kneels in front of me, head bowed, to offer it up. That’s exactly what I taught her to do yesterday with the crop, but being a good student won’t get her any discount on her punishment. It won’t get her any extra, either.
I love this cane; I loved it so much when Professor Deacon used it on me, I bought my own. A wicked length of thin rattan, it can deliver sting and thud in one stroke for a welt immediately and a bruise later.
“Stand up! Lift your dress!”
She leaps to her feet, turns her back, and tugs her dress up to present her bare ass.
“Should I bend over?”
She’s never tasted the cane, and I imagine she’ll be disappointed by it because she’s only getting one stroke, hard enough to leave a good mark but without the intensity of a riding crop applied to her engorged clit.
She does get the intensity of surprise, though.
When the cane suddenly cracks across her ass she stumbles forward with a curse. “Motherfucker!”
“The correct response is, ‘Thank you, captain.’”
She twists, craning her neck trying to see the red tramlines I left across both buttocks. They almost match her dress, though they’ll be purple soon enough. Either way, they’ll be unmissable every time she bares her ass.
Emily
“Thank you, captain.”
I don’t know how something so thin can make my whole ass sting, but I don’t care. I just know I need more.
What I get is disappointment, briefly.
“That’s it: one breakfast missed, one stroke of the cane. You can put your dress down again… for now. But while we’re at Alisdair’s, if anyone you met at the Freshers party asks how you’ve been, tell them you’ve been a bad girl. And show them the proof. Understood?”
Oh, yeah! “You want me to flash my ass at all the guys who fucked me last time?”
“Not just them. Anyone who asks how you’ve been, how you are, who you are, or even what you’re studying, they all get a variation on the same answer: you’re a bad girl, who’s been bad, or you’re learning how not to be such a bad girl. And you prove that. Every time. Clear?”
“Yes, captain! Clear, captain!”
What’s clear is that showing my caned ass to everyone is meant to humiliate me. It’s also clear that Ffion is bad at humiliating me, and she’s not learning a thing.
This is going to be even more fun than Freshers week.
* * *
Ffion and Emily’s story will continue in Loosehead Prop:
. . .
“Oh. Emily. Hi. I, um… I did mean to call you after, um… yeah, but the thing is I’ve been so—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it, …Jack?”
“Zack.”
“Right! Zack. Don’t worry about it, really. I had fun, and you don’t have my number anyway.”
“So… How have you been?”
“I’ve been bad, Zack. Ffion had to cane me. Look!”
. . .
Author’s note
Regular readers of this series may recognise the teaser for part 8 above, because it’s the same as the teaser for this part, last week. But this section of the story grew, and my time shrank, so the chapter was split and the party postponed.
I want to be at that party... you know, fly on the wall and all that 😉
(and I cringed when I read about the cane...)
"It’s also clear that Ffion is bad at humiliating me, and she’s not learning a thing."
There is clearly an implicit rivalry between Ffion and Emily.
My thought from last week -- Emily tries to turn the tables on Ffion -- is reinforced. But then again, Marsha Adams always has often other cards up her sleeve.