The School of Hard Knocks-Part 3
Miss Blake sat in the office of Mistress Prin, her hands nervously tapping her laptop. The venerable Headmistress was something of a legend within the Slave Institute. A woman with over forty years of experience as a dominant, a trainer and an educator. She was the leader of the Slave Institute for an unprecedented four terms in office, before moving into this role.
Mistress Prin was a stickler for timekeeping, and sure enough the door opened exactly as the clock struck for their appointment. Miss Blake immediately stood and bowed her head in deference. She waited until Mistress Prin reached her chair, before curtsying and taking the ladyâs gloved hand, kissing it with reverence.
Mistress Prin was still in magnificent condition, her auburn hair was still full and flowed like a mane, and although her face was showing more lines than before, she had the look and vitality of someone twenty years younger.
She sat, her leather trousers and boots creaking with the quality of the hide she insisted on wearing. The corset and opera length lace up leather gloves gave the Mistress an austere elegance. Miss Blake first met her mentor almost thirty years ago, when she was an aspiring young Domina. Mistress Prin in her prime could lay claim to being the most physically and mentally strong dominant in the world. While she had trimmed down her physique in recent years, the now lean frame was still reminiscent of the Amazon that Miss Blake admired and respected.
Mistress Prin smiled warmly at Miss Blake, she was fond of her former student, even in some tough times. But the business to be discussed today, would test Mistress Prinâs indulgence. As Miss Blake begun to speak, she was silenced by a hand raising before herâŚ.
âI have had the chance to review your request, Miss Blake. It is unheard of to propose a student that is currently under reassignment review, to be given the opportunity to assist in running classes with her teacher. I fear your judgement here is flawed.â
Miss Blake expected to be told that, however, she bristled at the idea that her judgment was wrong. She picked up the laptop and showed it to Mistress PrinâŚ.
âMistress, you can see here how she punishes. Her instincts and technique belie her lack of experience. I realise her psychometric results seemed to indicate otherwise, but the girl is a natural dominant. She is calm, but utterly ruthless when the situation calls for it. There is no lack of focus, she seems to change in an instant.â
Mistress Prin shook her head, and placed a hand on Miss Blakeâs knee.
âThe rules advise against it, Nadia. There has only been one instance of a failed student making such a stark improvement. The governors of the Institute do not want to risk repeating what happened in that situation. You understand this of course.â
Miss Blake clenched her fists. A misjudgment after such triumph almost ruined her career. She was indeed the student who escaped being trafficked to one of the many Madams in the country. But her indiscretions with a member of the faculty following her salvation nearly ended it all.
âWhile I agree that the girlâs abilities seem to be better than first thoughtâŚâŚ..I have also seen her around the school. She is very much your type, Nadia. Perhaps you are letting some feelings get in the way?â
Miss Blake spent years reclaiming her reputation, only to now have her thoughts infatuated with Rebecca. Miss Blake turned to the Mistress, expression earnest and heartfeltâŚ.
âPlease attend the lesson, Mistress. Let her prove she belongsâŚâŚ.I have no feelings for the girl, other than the fact she will be a great dominant. Either teaching here, or becoming a Madam. I will respect your decision of course, but you above all know how important it is to give people opportunities.â
Mistress Prinâs face hardened, but she nodded her assent and ordered Miss Blake to leave, but with a warning ringing in her earsâŚâŚthe teacherâs own career was being scrutinised too.
Rebecca stared at her reflection. Squeezing into the tight riding breeches and jacket felt amazing, but of course, it was the towering thigh boots that gave her the sensation of power. The crisp white blouse barely contained her generous chest, but she stoodâŚ.preening and admiring the outfit and her ass in the breeches. She heard the boot heels thunder behind her and Miss Blake was thereâŚâŚ
âMmm, you look sensational, Rebecca. A most apt look for our lesson today.â
Miss Blake was dressed identically, with the exception of her riding breeches being a dazzling white. Her boots were similarly high and she was a true picture of statuesque dominance. She was carrying a pair of leather riding crops and handed one to her student.
âGiven your skill with the cane, I would imagine wielding this crop will not pose a problem. Practice.â
Rebecca swished the crop in the air and watched her technique in the mirror. She widened her stance and imagined the tool was cracking over the flesh of a slave. Miss Blake moved behind Rebecca and grabbed her arm gently. She began to guide the strokes and pressed against the girl to hold her stance steady.
âThe rule is to conserve your energy as well as delivering power. Your legs are too far apart. Wearing such high heels, you need to stand slightly more narrow. Any exaggerated movements will unbalance you and make striking inconsistent. Donât be too still, as you will need your body weight to move behind each hit. Bend over.â
The girl did as she was told and bent over the nearby pommel horse. Miss Blake began to issue a series of short, sharp taps with the cropâŚ..finding the same place every time. Rebecca grimaced with each hit, but she knew the Miss was going easy on her. It was also shameful that the student was getting wetter as the lesson continued. Eventually Miss Blake stopped and gently rubbed Rebeccaâs ass cheek.
âYou arenât hurt I hope? Iâm too used to punishing with the crop, not demonstrating.â
Rebecca got up and smiled, before suddenly kissing Miss Blake on the lips.
âIâm not hurt, Miss. I enjoyed it, and thank you for the lesson.â
Miss Blake was slightly stunned, but then she moved in and returned the kiss, this time longer and more passionate. Her hand went down Rebeccaâs breeches and she moaned with approval when she discovered the girlâs wet cunt. It wasnât long before Rebecca came under the touch of the Miss. The expert finger fuck left our protege breathing heavily and once again leaning in to kiss Miss Blake. Rebecca dropped to her knees and pulled her teacherâs breeches down, exposing the hot, neatly trimmed pussyâŚâŚshe looked up, eyes asking for permission. Miss Blake moved over to the pommel horse and leaned back, gently pulling Rebecca towards her clit.
The girl began to eat her Mistress out, tongue lapping her fragrant cunt, tenderly kissing and nipping the Missâs pussy lips. Miss Blake opened her legs further and eventually a mind blowing orgasm hit like a thunderclap. The elder lady had to put her hand to her mouth to muffle the groans of orgasmic pleasure. Rebecca kept on going, bringing Miss Blake to another climax.
With the urgent sense of lust out of the way, both women sat facing each other. More boot teasing and oral pleasure followedâŚ..as Miss Blake smiled at her young lover and pointed a mock, admonishing fingerâŚ.
âYouâre a bad girl, Rebecca. But you and I both know that. But we still havenât seen how good you are with this crop. The lesson is later this evening and we havenât practiced fully. So, show me if youâve learned anything.â
Miss Blake got up and bent over the horse. She pulled her breeches back down again and bared her toned backside. She ordered the girl to crop her. Rebecca took up the weapon and delivered steady, controlled blows. Precision wasnât quite there, but the level of movement was much improved. Miss Blake moaned, her breathing heavy and her voice desperateâŚ..
âHarder. Mark me. Make me your property.â
Rebecca faltered, shocked at Miss Blakeâs sudden submission, but she continued until the welts began to appear. Then she stopped, hand trembling.
âI canât hurt you, Miss. Please say thatâs enough.â
Miss Blake grabbed the horse and began to finger herself. She looked at the marks on her ass in the mirrorâŚ.and came again. Rebecca moved over and took Miss Blakeâs hand tightly. The teacher soon recovered and stood up, hissing in discomfort as she pulled her breeches back up. She turned to Rebecca, her detached deportment once again in placeâŚ.but with a look of embarrassment.
âI apologise. I seemed to have lost some composure, girl. I will need to change into something else. You will stay dressed like that. Mistress Prin will no doubt want to know of any practical cropping examplesâŚ.you will say that the bull slaves were used. I marked them earlier, and sufficiently enough to corroborate that story. Oh, I trust this afternoonâs activities stay between us?â
Rebecca nodded and Miss Blake swept out of the room without another look or word. The atmosphere in the air was extraordinary and Rebecca briefly thought about going after Miss Blake. Instead, she turned toward her reflection once again. She gripped the riding crop and flexed it, her expression darkened and her eyes black as night.
