A Seeker's Sexual Pilgrimage Ch. 04

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I continue my sexual rampage with the help of the Internet.
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Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/25/2010
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A few days later, Jeannie and I are kicking back after an afternoon of fucking good fun when the doorbell rings. Jeannie ran into the bedroom and I pulled on some cotton pajama bottoms. It's my house and I was feeling pretty good about nudity at the moment so I didn't bother with a shirt. I opened the door and it was Freddie. Freddie was Jeannie's friend that came with her to drawing group that first night.

"Come on in."

"Don't mind if I do. What else is cuming in these days?" she asked with a smirk. Turned out all of Jeannie's friends were naughty little girls with dirty minds.

Freddie was one of those big girls. The kind that R. Crumb used to get so worked up over. Not a BBW, just large bones, a big frame and the muscle to carry it. R. Crumb had fantasies about getting naked piggyback rides. There is no accounting for kinks. So, Freddie was one of those kinds of girls.

The thing about big girls is that they have big tits and big asses and Freddie's were spilling out of her clothes as she sashayed through the door. She wore a brassiere that was supposed to contain her breasts, but only had enough room in it to support the bottom two thirds. The tops of her funjugs pillowed out, framed nicely by a white blouse with the top three buttons undone. It was all I could do not to bury my face in there instantly. She smiled as she slid by me and then headed for the living room like she knew just what she was doing. My eyes were drawn to her bouncing bottom as she walked away from me. If those tits needed balance, they found it in her ass. Her firm round butt stuck out so far in back that you could have stored a beer on top of it. Her little plaid mini-skirt barely covered the critical areas. That ass needed a spanking and I needed to be the one to give it to her.

Then it came to me, she was dressed as a schoolgirl and she wasn't dressed that way as a game. That's just the clothes she chose to put on.

Freddie went into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

"Man, that was a boring meeting. I need a drink. Got anything to drink?"

"Well, sure, I've got wine and I've got vodka."

"Yeah, bring me a vodka on the rocks." She laughed and put one foot up on the coffee table.

I got Freddie her drink and sat down in a rattan rocking chair that had belonged to my parents. The chair was covered in an orange fabric that featured surrealistic fish skeletons and stylized plants. It was easily the strangest piece of furniture my parents ever bought. I still remember being scared by the fish skeletons when I was a little kid. Now those piscine bones swam through my living room somewhat more worn for the decades that had passed.

"What kind of meeting did you go to?" I asked her for something to say. Jeannie was taking her time back in the bedroom.

"Oh, It was the monthly meeting of the art co-op I belong to. Those bitches can never do anything without a yearlong argument." Freddie still had a leg up on the coffee table and as she rotated around more towards me, I was able to see farther and farther up her inner leg. "Let's talk about you though. Jeannie tells me that you are quite the lover."

"Uh, does she?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well what exactly does she say?"

"She says, you can keep it up for hours and pound her so hard that she has trouble walking the next day."

Every guy likes to hear bullshit like that. "I do my best."

"She also says you have a beautiful cock."

"Jeannie said that?"

"Oh yeah. Actually, the word she used was 'magnificent.'"

She rotated a little more and my eyes were drawn up into the dusky depths of her crotch. I glimpsed a hint of red panties. My helpless cock began to engorge at the mention of its existence and the peep show I was being treated to. All I had on was some pajama bottoms, which did little to disguise what was happening inside them. Freddie wasn't shy about staring at the action in my pants.

She said the word again, "magnificent." I popped up to half-mast.

"Oh, I really need to see that thing," she said, her eyes glued to my bulge.

"Honey," I called to Jeannie, "can I show Freddie my cock?"

"Oh wait a sec," Jeannie sang back. "I want to watch this." Quickly she was in the living room with us. All she was wearing was a top that looked like loose chain mail and a pink thong. Her tits were clearly visible although obscured. My penis was already about as erect as it could get, but the sight of Jeannie nearly naked and clearly enjoying the moment of sharing me with her girlfriend still made my testicles jump for joy. I gulped and stood up.

Freddie opened the vee of her legs up to make a catch basin for me. The gleam in her eye made it look a little like a bear trap as well. I had a fleeting glimpse of being led by her thighs to the mouth of her pussy which would snap at me with the hunger and voraciousness of a supersonic Venus flytrap. I was almost scared. You get what you wish for and then it frightens the hell out of you.

I began the long short walk, following my erection to her grin. Freddie grabbed my ass and gathered me in for the last step. She took a second to look up into my eyes as if to tell me that she was alpha for this moment and my cock was hers, then she turned back to the business at hand. Her fingers slipped between the elastic and my stomach and, leaning in with her head at nearly a ninety-degree angle, she slowly opened a space to look through. She didn't have to look far.

The rosie warhead emerged from it's earthly cavern into the sunlight. For a moment that was all that could be seen. Then, with exquisite grace and great deliberation, Freddie slid the single piece of cotton fabric down my hips and allowed the shaft and scrotum to be unveiled gradually like a sculpture at an art exhibit.

I was hard as porcelain. Each vein tunneled just below the skin yet stood out with muscular definition and purpose. My pubic hairs tangled electrically. My testicles were braced and slightly throbbing, yet loose and relaxed. They hung with the right one slightly lower than the left. Though no one could see it, my asshole clinched spasmodically.

The proud and defiant warhead sat atop the missile-like shaft. It existed as the Platonic form of the dichotomy of hard and soft, war or honey or of good and evil. It was ready to do battle.

Both girls leaned in for a close look at the slit, the tiny opening perched at the very apex of the whole machine, the entrance to my body, and as they did, a drop of moisture jeweled magically into existence. A small noise escaped Freddie.

"Okay," said Jeannie. "That's enough of that," and she took the waistband of my pajamas and pulled them back up over my ass and unit.

"Hey, I was looking at that."

"You had your look."

"Well, I thought maybe you would let me give it a little kiss, right on the end." Freddie reached for my waistband but Jeanne slapped her hand away.

"That's all. I said look."

"What do you mean you said look?" I was a little confused by what was going on here.

"That was the bet," Freddie explained to me. "She said I could have a look at your 'magnificent' unit if she lost the bet. And she did." That settled it in Freddie's mind.

"You guys were betting on my cock? Jeannie, what is going on here?"

"Nooo, silly. We weren't betting on your cock."

"What?"

"I bet your cock. I didn't bet on your cock. If I lost, Freddie got to see your huge member. It's really your fault. It's so big it just made me brag on it."

That's all a woman really has to ever do in any kind of conflict situation with a man, start praising his manhood.

"And exactly what am I supposed to do with this thing in my pants now that you've shown it off?"

"I don't know. Maybe give yourself a hand."

"What the hell were you two betting on anyhow?"

"Maybe Freddie will give you a hand."

"Don't distract me. I want to know what you two were betting on."

"Freddie, come help me in the kitchen."

"Oh no you don't. Both of you have been very naughty. You have teased the Headmaster's cock. You have talked about me when I wasn't there. You will be punished."

I should explain here that Jeanne and I had refined the spanking game. In our role-playing, I am Doctor Deucel, Headmaster of Doctor Deucel's Finishing School for Naughty Little Girls. I have achieved the high honor of 'Master Headmaster.' My specialty is spankology. I believe that stern but necessary punishment is the road to turning naughty little girls into proper young ladies. All of this started as demerits and spankings with Candy, but has grown over the years into a refined persona.

As "the Doctor," I have spanked hundreds, nay thousands of naughty bottoms. (In real life I have not been that lucky. But then the Doctor is somewhat satiated and that may interfere with his total enjoyment of his profession.) The Doctor sees the world as a sea of buttocks, each needing it's own proper degree of tending to. The Doctor has made a study of it. He has notebooks filled with his observations of little girl's bottoms. He has invented tools for measuring the curves and a system for the written recording of his findings. He estimates the density of the muscle matter and calculates the swing speed needed to produce the desired result.

He is able to categorize assholes by type, (winking star, the pucker, whirlpool, Gordian knot, ring, double ring, disappearing, supernova, etc.) as well as size, hairiness and color. (Yes, the Doctor must study assholes, as they are included within the area of his expertise, so to speak.) The Doctor his discovered that twenty eight percent of all little girls have a skin flap that rises for no apparent reason, from either the perineum or the opposite end of the anal corona and wiggles it's way down into the opening. The most likely reason for this that the Doctor has deduced is so that there is plenty of skin there if the Doctor decides he must punish the little girl with the most extreme of all punishments, sticking his rod of power as far as possible up her rearmost sphincter. This study of naughty bottoms really is his legacy and life's work, which he intends to donate to the Kinsey Institute at Indiana University upon his demise.

I wrote a Handbook the go along with the idea. It's on Literotica.com as "Finishing School Handbook." I had to shorten the name to make them happy, but the proper name is "Handbook for Doctor Deucel's Finishing School for Naughty Little Girls." Everything you need to know is in the handbook. I've devoted years to refining and embellishing it.

I also want to make it clear that while I derive great enjoyment from spanking naughty bottoms, I don't want to hurt anybody. I never use canes or rods or leave any marks other than a healthy red glow. Okay, maybe a handprint. Fucking them from the back and then a nice bright handprint right before I get off. That one will often work. I'm sure that I partly enjoy it because I want to punish all the women that have ever rejected me and especially my ex-wife, but on balance, I really love women and have no desire to hurt them. It's just, that view of the mechanism at work and a shiny asshole riding up above, oh my, and that sweet rounded buttock begging to be cupped and popped. What normal man could resist?

So anyway, I instantly reverted here into the Doctor Deucel character. If you are at all dominant and the lady is at all submissive then usually, they love it and do whatever you command or else they intentionally disobey just to get demerits, which can be fun too.

I stood up, got a stern expression on my countenance, pointed my finger at Freddie and commanded, "Little girl! Stand up and move over there." I pointed at the corner.

Freddie hopped to her feet and bounced over to the corner. In her mind the odds of excitement had just gone up. I grabbed a corner of the couch and dragged it out perpendicular to the wall. Luckily, couches are cheaply made these days and I moved the couch instead throwing my back out.

"All right little girls, into position!" I pointed at the back of the couch with my pointing finger.

Jeannie knew what was coming but Freddie was a little uncertain what to do so Jeannie demonstrated by spreading her feet shoulder width apart, leaning over the back of the couch and presenting her ass.

"Oooo," said Freddie. "We're going to get spanked. I love to be spanked."

Now something like this could either amuse the Doctor, secure in his abilities to punish adequately, or infuriate him and raise his ire and spanking hand to new heights. This time, he just chuckled.

With the girls both in position, the Doctor took a moment to assess the situation. The two bottoms confronting him could hardly have been more different. Jeannie's butt, which he knew intimately, was small. It was barely covered at all by her chain mail top. There was adequate padding, which was rounded into two small lumps. There was virtually no hair until one came to the crotch area. The fold at the bottom of the buttock was well defined. One could see the cord of the tendon as it ran up the inner thigh.

At the moment the anus was obscured by the cord of fabric which connected the back of the pussy pocket of her thong with the back of the waistband. The Doctor knew it well though and could picture it in his mind. Her asshole was a button shape with minimal pucker tucked inside an irregular corona six shades darker on a scale of ten than the cream of her posterior. The button itself was small about five-eights of an inch across and basically containing four wrinkles forming a cross and an extra wrinkle built into the Northwest quadrant. A typical skinny girl ass, but a very unusual type of sphincter. The Doctor classified it as a "Northern Star."

Freddie, on the other hand, possessed an ass built for spanking. It was generous in proportion, like a large canvas, flexible and sturdy as a World War Two jeep, with the resiliency of spring steel.

Doctor Deucel got down on one knee to study her anus. His penis was quivering like the E string on a bass fiddle.

Her asshole was perfect. I mean it was a combination of everything that the good Doctor found delightful and most aesthetically pleasing in the female bunghole. For starters, the corona color was a rich dark brown, like Colombian coffee. The perimeter of the corona halo was full to the boundaries of the posterior cleavage and formed a point at its top where it exited between the tops of the cheeks.

Her hole was well haired. I like a goodly amount of hair. Never understood the propensity towards hairlessness in modern porn. Of course, too much hair and the hole is obscured and I don't like that, just enough to tug on when you are fucking the pussy and stimulating the backdoor.

The sphincter itself was formed of seventeen evenly spaced radiating lines which all disappeared together in unison into her body. The external ring stood proudly as the wrinkles humped over it on their way to the edges of her lickable anal halo. The Doctor was pleased to observe a classic anus of the "Rising Ring" variety.

The most unusual part though was that there was a raised line of skin that ran from her anus down into her twat like the stem of a flower. Usually, the perineum stands like a wall between the lady's holes. This time, the connection between the two made it into a composition. The labia minora lay over each other like petals, wrinkly and convoluted. The vulval vestibule was only visible at the very top of the lips where it opened slightly like the darkness inside a hooded sweatshirt. The whole thing looked like an iris plant with a radiant daisy on top tucked into the ground cover of her tangled pubic hair. Carefully I opened the lips right by the root of the flower and exposed her throbbing clitoris. Gently, gently, I flicked it with my tongue.

I was going to have to fuck that cunt and that asshole. I just had to.

Now, I would have liked to have spent some time arranging those two luscious asses into different compositions. I would have enjoyed probing them with toys and truly wish I had taken some photographs, but the Doctor would not allow it. These asses needed to be spanked and we might as well get on with it. On the other hand, two such dissimilar bottoms could not be tended to at the same time. Since Freddie's hind end would require so much more effort and determination (especially after her "I like to be spanked" comment) it seemed correct to begin with her.

"Little girl number one!" The Doctor intoned, directing his comment at Jeannie, "since the Matron is not here today, I will require your assistance as I administer the punishment to this pupil here." He indicated Freddie's ass.

"Yes sir, Doctor Deucel sir," Jeannie intoned as she popped up into the matron character. "What can I do to help you?"

I will have to admit this is my favorite way to be addressed. If you want to make the Doctor happy, just say, "yes sir Doctor Deucel sir. "

So I said, "adjust this pupil's posterior so that it is in correct position for the punishment procedure."

Jeannie grabbed Freddie by the hips and yanked her higher and forward. Now remember, Freddie is twice Jeannie's size so she couldn't have done it without Freddie's assistance.

"That's good," I said. "Now hold her feet." Then I came around to the left and took the command position with my right, my power hand, directed at the bottom part of the arch of the buttock. Jeannie looked up at me from her place on the floor holding the feet. We locked eyes for a second. She smiled at me. The corners of her eyes crinkled and indentations of her lips tended upwards. The whole muzzle of her face raised as the center of her eyes remained motionless.

I looked back at the target area. It was as calm as the clouds stretched over the ocean. It was peace itself. It was quiet in the night and the blankness of a chalk wall, a moment when the chaos settles before all hell breaks loose and my hand contacts the tiny hairs that reach out like warning towers from her skin to presage of the crashing of doom upon her ass.

I settled my palm upon her curve in calming circles allowing the energy to seek the cosmic center of the strike zone. It was a Zen moment for both of us.

Then the center was found and we rested in the perfection of the instant. Slowly, as the moment passed, I brought my hand back along the arch that led most naturally away on a line from where I most artistically hoped to draw my stroke. Truly it was an art form to me. I sought the apex. One doesn't want to over-stroke and lose both accuracy and momentum. I paused for one more millisecond.

There is a beauty to the blossoming of a alizarin hand painting on the cream of a lady's bottom that is like the coming of Spring. It is like birth and rebirth. It is the Big Bang. The reverberation of the concussion shook the space around us and the sexual essence of all our beings. Freddie sank into the forgiveness of the couch but it was not enough, nothing really. The muscles of her ass absorbed the blow with grace and forgiveness. My hand rebounded away from her like from a taunt drumhead. The sting split into two sections. The smaller part ran into my palm and the greater part surged straight down the radius of Freddie's largest curve and into the center of her center.

Since the strike was to her left buttock, Freddie instinctively tried to flinch with her left leg. She almost succeeded in yanking her heel out of Jeannie's hand, which would have been very bad news for Jeannie. Woe betides the Matron who loses control of a pupil during punishment session. Fortunately for her though, she held on and rode out the instant of reflex.

My hand was still stinging, but I couldn't let anyone know that.

"How was that?" I asked Freddie, ever solicitous of the student.

"Fine, thank you sir. May I have another?"

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