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Marisa at School (magic, spanking, young) Part II
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Marisa at School (II) (magic, spanking,young)
This is a fantasy for adults. If you are underage or don't like this
sort of thing, don't read it!
II.
Marisa arrived at Miss Cowperthwaite's School for Girls the day before
the fall term officially began. It was an impressive campus. The best
residence was reserved for the principal, Mr. Barrington-Smythe; he had
a detached house suitable for the family he hoped someday to have. All
other faculty members lived in apartments on floors in the student dor-
mitories. Marisa's English teacher to be, Miss Purity Goodheart, lived
in the best of these apartments in the newest dormitory. Other faculty
members believed that she obtained the apartment due to her unspoken,
but widely known, engagement with Mr. Barrington-Smythe.
Marisa's room was on Miss Goodheart's floor, and it was a fine room.
Still, Marisa wanted the apartment. It was the work of but a few moments
to move Miss Goodheart and a few of her belongings into the room which
had been intended for Marisa; the best of her belongings remained in the
apartment. A few more moments, and everyone forgot that Miss Goodheart
had ever lived in the apartment -- *of course* it was more logical for
Marisa to live there! Miss Goodheart felt vaguely disoriented in her
new quarters, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong.
Marisa had arranged that her very first class would be Miss Goodheart's
English class. For the first few minutes of class, Marisa observed.
Miss Goodheart was an experienced and knowledgeable teacher, but her
manner towards the class was imperious, and her students did not warm
to her. Marisa felt it was time for some fun.
The next time Miss Goodheart turned toward the blackboard, Marisa left
her seat, walked up behind the teacher, pulled her head backward by its
long blonde hair, and dunked the hair in an inkwell. Miss Goodheart
was furious! And not only because an appreciative titter went around
the classroom at the teacher's embarassing situation.
"Young lady, you and I are going to the principal's office right now!"
said Miss Goodheart. "This is not an auspicious start to your career
here at Miss Cowperthwaite's!" Marisa felt that, on the contrary, it
was quite auspicious, but it did not seem feasible to explain why to the
teacher. The two of them marched down the hall and into the principal's
office.
"John, it seems that young Marisa here has decided to set a new school
record for how quickly she can learn first hand about our disciplinary
procedures," announced Miss Goodheart. "As you can see from my hair --"
and she paused for a moment as she realized that ink was still dripping
down onto her clothes. How could there have been so much ink in the
inkwell? But then she continued, "As you can see, she does not seem to
understand the respect which a student owes her teacher. I'm sure you
can set her straight about this! Now, if you'll excuse me --" And she
set off to clean up the ink as best she could.
Mr. Barrington-Smythe was momentarily taken aback by this assault upon
his office. Hadn't all of the inkwells in the school disappeared at
least as long ago as Miss Cowperthwaite herself? But discipline was dis-
cipline, and his responsibility in a situation such as this was very
clear to him. He opened his mouth, intending to explain to Marisa the
seriousness of her offense, and how it was now necessary for him to use
corporal punishment.
But before he could utter a word, Marisa told him, "I'd like you to lie
down across your desk, Mr. B-S. My, what a nice paddle you have hanging
on the wall over there! I'm sure you enjoy using it so much! But today,
you will be on the other end of the paddle!"
"What -- what --" blustered Mr. Barrington-Smythe, noting out of the
corner of his eye that the door to his secretary's office was ajar.
"You *have* to do what I tell you to do," she continued. "And I'd like
you to take your pants down!"
Mr. Barrington-Smythe couldn't understand it, but he felt himself com-
pelled to obey the commands of the young offender. Despite his own
wishes, he did indeed take off his trousers and lower his underpants,
and then he lay across the desk. Marisa moved her chair forward, raising
the seat, and then lifting her skirt to reveal that she had no underwear!
"What a convenient arrangement we have here, sir," Marisa said, with just
a touch of gloating in her voice. "It seems that your tongue is now in a
position where it can be of great service to me." Meanwhile, Mr. Barring-
ton-Smythe's paddle apparently removed itself from the hook on the wall,
moved toward its owner's unprotected rear, and gave it a good swat!
"Great service indeed," Marisa mused. The paddle once more slapped Mr.
Barrington-Smythe's posterior, apparently without human assistance.
"Perhaps it will go easier for you," the young wanton continued, "if you
show me how well you can use that tongue!"
Mr. Barrington-Smythe was sorely puzzled -- both at the behavior of his
paddle, which had never before acted on its own, and at the nature of
his student's request. School gossip about the engagement of Mr. Barr-
ington-Smythe and Miss Goodheart was correct, but the widespread assump-
tion about the coming marriage having already been consummated was as
wrong as it could possibly be. Not only was the principal a virgin, but
his education in matters sexual was as minimal as his parents could possi-
bly make it. And now Marisa's genitals were in front of his face, and
she seemed to expect him to do something with his tongue. It didn't make
any sense to him at all.
Marisa realized that she would have to compel the principal to do what
she wanted directly, and she proceeded to make him extend his tongue be-
tween her pussy lips to the spot where she desired. "That's better,
sir," she encouraged him. The paddle continued to swat the man's bottom
very vigorously, for Marisa found Mr. Barrington-Smythe's repeated excla-
mations of pain as arousing as his clumsy ministrations to her clit.
Further adding to her enjoyment, she saw his secretary, Miss Danforth,
watching the proceedings, as if spellbound, through the doorway from
her office.
"Ah, yes, the virtues of discipline!" said Marisa. "Don't you agree, sir,
how necessary it is to the efficient functioning of a community such as
ours? It underlines one's duties and responsibilities." It was hard for
Mr. Barrington-Smythe to respond, engaged as he was; and under the cir-
cumstances, he was most unsure of what he would have said, had he been
able to speak. He agreed with the tenor of Marisa's words, but he felt
somehow that their current respective positions did not provide a suitable
example of what she had said.
Adding to Mr. Barrington-Smythe's bewilderment, as the blows from the
paddle continued, was the way his body was beginning to respond to the
stimulation he was receiving on his rear. Despite the pain and the
stinging, he felt his manhood beginning to stir. And it was becoming
harder to perform his duty for Marisa, because she was beginning to
jerk around in her chair in a completely unpredictable way.
Of course, the combination of Mr. Barrington-Smythe's humiliation, pain,
and subjection to her will was a powerful stimulant for the young girl,
and it is not surprising that she soon had a very satisfying orgasm.
Watching Miss Danforth's hands, Marisa suspected that the secretary
was on the way to an orgasm of her own. Marisa returned the paddle to
its designated place on the wall, and she was satisfied to see that the
principal, despite his condition of erection, had *not* achieved release.
"Now, this has been a most instructive session, sir," said Marisa, as
she adjusted Mr. Barrington-Smythe's memory of the last few minutes. As
far as he was concerned, Miss Goodheart had brought Marisa to his office
to be paddled, and he had paddled her appropriately. He didn't notice
as his hands pulled up his trousers and rebuckled the belt, but he did
feel quite uncomfortable as he sat down again in his chair.
"Indeed!" said the principal. "It would be a shame if this morning set
the pattern for your years to come! Your record seemed so promising --
and now you seem to be following the erroneous path of some of our worst
offenders ..."
"And who might those be?" Marisa asked innocently -- a question which
would not have been answered under normal circumstances.
"I'm thinking about Tamara, Patti, and Lindsay," the principal responded,
before he could stop himself. "But I'd rather talk to you about *good*
examples to follow --"
Mr. Barrington-Smythe suddenly realized he was speaking to no one; Marisa
had immediately gone out to Miss Danforth's office. "You will remember
what happened," Marisa told the secretary, "but you will not be able to
tell anyone anything about it! Now, could I see the files on Tamara,
Patti, and Lindsay?" Marisa had big plans for them.
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