Julie's Christmas Tasks

Even when I am away from Professor Doyle he keeps me on a tight leash so when I went home for Christmas he set me a list of tasks to perform during the holiday and he set them out in an email. I was not at all happy when, after Christmas, he said that I had to copy my reports of my tasks onto Lit for all to see. I did write an email to him pleading with him not to make me tell everyone what I had been doing but I never sent it to him as I know that trying to disobey him always leads to painful and humiliating punishment so here are the emails for you to see. I hope you enjoy reading how he made me humiliate myself and violate my family's trust for his amusement and for yours.

To Julie:

You must not imagine that when you go home for Christmas you are out of my reach. You will have a number of tasks which you must perform and be warned failure will lead to a penalty which you most definitely will not like. I am setting out your tasks here and make sure you read this mail very carefully as each task must be completed to the letter.

Task One

You will send me regular reports on how you are completing your tasks. These must be detailed, complete and accurate.

Task Two

Over the Christmas period your reading matter will be The Story of O which I have already given you. It is a classic of control and submission and I expect you to ensure that you learn from it.

Task Three

At no time during the holiday will you sleep with any clothing below your waist. This is to ensure that you remember that girls like you are entitled to no privacy at all so that even when you are alone in your bed you are under my control.

Task Four

At some point in the holiday you will have a masturbation session with your leg over the arm of the sofa. This session must be prolonged and wanton and you will write a report setting out not merely what happened but also every detail of the naughty thoughts which you had while completing the task.

Task Five

At some point you will conduct yourself in such a way as to cause your mother to utter her catchphrase, "Cover yourself up Julie."

Task Six

You will obtain a pair of your sister's knickers. You will ensure that you choose a pair which she has recently worn and, of course, they will not have been laundered. You will then use this garment for masturbation.

As you complete all these tasks you will remember that you are totally under my control, you are allowed no consideration, no rights and certainly no appeal. Your only two choices are to humiliate yourself to my orders or face a very painful and even more humiliating punishment.

To Doyle:

Task One

I arrived home at around 7pm and am now set up on my Dad's wireless LAN so I will not be using his PC. If the wireless had not worked I would have had to use the excuse of having college work to do and asked to use his PC. That would have made me feel even dirtier that I was using his computer to betray his trust and give a stranger the intimate happenings inside our family home. At present I am sitting in the lounge with my laptop on my lap and the family sitting around me. I have told them I have a shedload of stuff to do for college. How do you imagine I feel about having to type this mail while my sister, my Dad and my Mum are sitting so close watching The Royal Variety Performance? Sister Gemma is curled up in the chair next to me with her legs pulled up underneath her. She is wearing figure hugging black slacks and a floppy green jumper. Her socks are white with red stripes (just so you can picture the scene). What would they think if they knew that I am sitting among them giving an account of our private family Christmas to someone they have never met and what kind of girl would do that to her family? I am burning with shame as I obey your instructions.

To Doyle:

Task One. Another routine report.

This is my second report from deep inside Julie's family home. Actually I am in my old room sitting up in bed naked with my laptop which is using Daddy's wireless network.

I arrived here just after 7pm as I told you in my last mail and we all had dinner together just like the old days. I have read some of the Story of O and will, of course, read it during the holiday. I like the opening where O prepares for her ordeal and makes her way into the house. I have also read some of what happened to her inside. Of course my knickers had to come down while I was reading this and I was able to produce a lovely orgasm made all the better by having to keep the noise right down. It has been some time since I had the restriction (or is it an extra stimulus?) of knowing that Mum and Daddy were in bed just the other side of the wall.

Of course I was back to rubbing my hands over lovely girlish smooth flesh after I shaved back at home before setting out. I have rubbed the appropriate secretions on my boobs after pushing my bra up so that the cups were somewhere under my chin but above their normal position. Can you imagine what I looked like with my jeans and top on the floor beside the bed, my bra in disarray and my knickers around my wide open knees as my hair was all over the pillow and my face was scarlet and hot?

When I packed my bag to come here I put a print of your email inside and, after the above session I read it once again. The way that your long arm is able to control me at so great a distance set my pussy tingling all over again and I immediately stripped completely without leaving the bed and threw my remaining clothing to the floor before getting under the covers nude on my belly. My head dug into the pillow, my bum pushed the covers up into a sort of tent and my fingers found my pussy in the dark just like an 18 year old Girl Guide at camp in the dark tent trying not to be heard by the girls sleeping around her. I pleasured myself with an image of my old Guide leader in my mind as she tried to deal with the situation.

"This is really too bad Julie. What would we say to your mum if we had to send you home from camp?" (No that never happened but I have to tell my professor the fantasies which come into my mind at these times.)

Before I finally try to sleep I will tell you my plans.

I want to read some more of O tomorrow morning (I mean later this morning) before leaving this room. I intend for task four to happen in the small hours of one morning downstairs. Task five will probably involve running from my room to the loo in my knickers and nothing else. If I do it in the morning the house will be busy with folk getting organised for breakfast. I don't quite see how I can arrange to be caught by Mum but I will think of something. I intend to leave the theft of Gemma's underwear until soon before I go home as I don't want to be here if and when she misses them but I am hoping that she will not notice her loss.

Tonight I am naked and thinking of you. Perhaps you might think of me.

To Doyle:

Task Four

This mail is being sent as I sit up in bed Sunday morning.

I went to bed last night and did my compulsory reading of The Story of O (like a little girl who has to do some of her reading book every night), wearing only my pyjama top. This is more tingly that wearing a nightie as obviously a pyjama top is meant to be worn with the bottoms so I was being made to leave something off. I am not even allowed the freedom to wear what I like in bed.

I am normally able to wake up in the night if I intend to do so just like some people can plan what time they will awaken in the morning. And so it was that I was awake in the dark at just before 3am. I listened for any sound, took a deep breath and removed my pyjama top then I left my warm bed. Of course the house is unheated at this time. The addition which I had made to this task is that I have to make my way downstairs to the lounge completely nude. If I am discovered I will have no robe to grab for, not even a towel. I will just have to stand there and nervously say "Oh Hello."

I eased open the bedroom door and left it ajar then I felt my way downstairs. As my eyes adjusted I found that it was not pitch black and I could find my way. I went through the hallway and into the lounge. I had to open the lounge door and decided not to close it behind me. I pulled back the curtain just a little which let in some moonlight then I looked at the arm of the sofa. Well here goes. I was a little cold which is not the ideal condition for what I had to do but I sat on the seat of the sofa and slung my right leg over the arm. One hand went to my breast and the other began to rub between my legs with the pressure building steadily. Of course every sense, especially hearing, was working at full alert. My leg began to twitch as my hand rubbed that small, very sensitive little spot. My internal muscles began to clench and I moistened. Now the tip of a finger began to enter and leave the aperture, I deliberately delayed ramming it straight in which is what I wanted to do.

I was imagining myself standing before a panel of Professor Burbidge and Ray Doyle while you gave your evidence. I know that you have the power to condemn me or to release me. What will you say? One word from you and I know those thick leather straps will be bound around my arms and I will be loaded into the back of that van to be taken away to the place where bad girls go.

My fingers were inside now and my head was going back. I could not suppress little moans; would the sound carry upstairs? By now it was no longer possible to listen for the tread on the stair and then my passions released and I slumped back on the sofa exhausted and smelling the rank smell of hot Julie. My fingers were soaked so I wiped them on my nipples and then sucked them clean tasting the salt in my mouth.

The task was completed and I so hoped I had satisfied Professor Doyle but, of course, I can never tell. I still had to get back upstairs without being detected. I would not meet Mum or Dad going to the loo as they have an en suite. Closing the lounge door without making a click was nerve wracking then I crept upstairs and along the landing. I made it into my room with a mixture of relief and disappointment and climbed into bed dragging the covers over my naked body.

To Doyle:

Task Five

I had been unsure how I would complete this task. I had a vague plan of running from the loo back to my room wearing nothing at all but it would have needed precise timing to ensure that I met my mum on the landing. Actually I think the reality turned out better than the plan. After my disturbed night it was predictable that I would not be awake very early this morning and I had a deadline as the family had to be ready for church. As I made my way to the bathroom in just my robe a plan popped into my mind.

I had a lovely shower and washed my hair then I tied a large beige bath towel around my waist and a pink bath towel just above my little boobs. Wearing NOTHING at all apart from two towels I made my way downstairs where my family were at breakfast. I apologised for being a bit late and said that I thought I had better get downstairs quickly for breakfast then I would dress afterwards.

I think I detected a slight disapproval in the maternal eye but nothing was said. This was not a problem as I had only completed phase one of my plan. Phase two revolved around the fact that I had not fastened my top towel as carefully as the bottom one. The bottom towel was not likely to slip down as it was around my slim waist and supported by my pelvis. The top towel depended upon my boobs to keep it up and two fried eggs do not really offer much support.

As I sat at the table I felt the towel slip and I resisted the natural impulse to grab for it. I reached across the table for the marmalade and the towel gave up the struggle. It simply slipped away and I was seated at table with my boobs on full display. Gemma's hand went to her mouth and my mum uttered a shocked "Julie!"

My dad remained silent but could not disguise a grin. As I grabbed for my towel and retied it Gemma recovered her voice.

"I shouldn't worry. There's nothing much to see."

Mum then completed the task for me.

"Go upstairs Julie and put something on."

I have to tell you that I felt genuinely embarrassed as I left the kitchen. I think the embarrassment came mostly from being sent from the room like a naughty schoolgirl.

In the bathroom I put on my robe making sure to pull it fully closed at the top then I went back to breakfast. Later on at church my minister said that he did not see nearly enough of me these days.

To Julie:

To my vain, self satisfied little whore.

I have not deigned to answer your mails up to now as, of course, it is my choice whether I reply to you or not. The tone of your mails has a very unwelcome complacency which will not do. How dare you attempt Task Four in the middle of the night when there is not the remotest risk of discovery? Do it again and this time get it right. My patience is very short as your tender buttocks may discover very soon.

To Doyle:

Second Attempt Task Four

When I first saw that I would have to repeat this task I was horror struck but then I remembered that I had added something to the task when I attempted it last time. When I crept downstairs that night I was naked but the task as you originally wrote it did not call for that and this made it at least possible. I decided that I would wear a skirt or dress for the rest of the holiday in case I suddenly had a chance to perform my task.

Ever since reading your mail I have been on tenterhooks – would I get a chance to perform the task or would I have to confess to you my failure?

Well then an idea came to me which enabled me to push events in my favour and, I hope, give Professor Doyle some sexual tension and drama to enjoy. Nothing much is happening this evening except for Gemma who is still over at Pete's home. So I used the opportunity of a quiet time at home and I asked Daddy if I could use the seclusion of his study to write an essay on my laptop. Your task only stipulated that I use the arm of a sofa and it did not specify that the said piece of furniture be the one in the lounge. Daddy has an old two seat sofa in his study so in I went and, to give the task extra zest, I left the door ajar.

So there I was in that small room which is decorated in a masculine deep red and brown. Against one wall is Daddy's desk with his PC and along another wall is the sofa which is at right angles to the wall which has the door in it. Through the net curtains over the desk I could see the lights of the road. I had my laptop switched on and placed on the seat of the sofa beside me as I slung one leg over the arm. But I felt very vulnerable; my parents were in their slippers, would I hear if one of them approached? I wanted something to buy me an extra second of warning so I left the sofa and wheeled Daddy's black office chair in front of the door. It would not prevent the door from opening but the door pushing the chair may just give me an extra second to recover my decency. The door was still slightly ajar.

Then it was back to the sofa and my right hand went up my skirt with my fingers pulling aside my knickers so that I could reach my cleft. I could hear Moonlight Sonata coming from the lounge where Daddy was relaxing and Mum was sitting with him writing up her 2011 calendar.

Of course in cold weather it is natural for a lady to warm her hands in her muff and I did just that. I did not give myself any gentle build up but rubbed quite hard against my G spot the way that an impatient man would (assuming he knew what a G spot is). My head went back and my fingers pressed into my slit again being quite rough as they pulled against the flesh around my vagina. Those fingers were now moving in and out and squeezing my clitty hard, of course my hand was now slick with my juice and my legs were as wide apart as they would go.

My vivid, if not lurid, imagination conjured up a brutal man who was pressing his rough hands into me. I had to keep the noise to a minimum but I could not suppress the groans at the back of my throat. In my mind I was begging him to stop.

"Please. You're hurting me."

He put one huge hand around my throat just hard enough to constrict my breathing and scare me then he began to grope my boobs while his other hand was still squeezing the soft flesh around my pussy and ramming those fat fingers right into my most private area. Of course I could not keep my legs still and they were thrashing about. His hands were everywhere to make the point that he could do whatever he liked to me and I was powerless. Despite trying to resist my attacker my body betrayed me and a huge climax broke forth as I completely humiliated myself under his leering gaze.

I was left lying back on the sofa with one leg still over the arm. I was completely spent and my knickers were soaked and uncomfortable as they were scrunched up in the narrow space between my leg and my puffy, wet labia. For a time I just lay there getting my breath back and, once again aware of Moonlight Sonata which had earlier faded out of my consciousness. My attacker had fled with dark promises that we would meet again.

In time I pulled myself together and logged into webmail to write the report of my humiliation for Professor Doyle.

There is one more element to this task which I did not mention above as it would have disturbed the flow of narrative. When I was part way through writing this mail the door swung open pushing the office chair out of the way and Daddy came in carrying a cup of coffee for me. I smiled and thanked him and said I should not be much longer.

If he had been just seven minutes earlier..........

Still feeling tingly and wondering what my anonymous attacker will do the next time that he has me in his power.

To Doyle:

Task One

I don't really have anything to write about but you said you liked my morning reports so I thought I would write. I am sitting up in bed in my pink pyjama top; I did not wear the bottoms as of course that is not allowed. You can imagine what I look like with my hair all over the place as I have just woken up and my small, almost adolescent, boobs gently pushing against the cotton material. My nips are very much in evidence.

As I write I pull back the covers so that you can see my nakedness below the waist. My legs are slightly parted so you can see the pure white flesh with that little enticing slit between. I blush a little and avert my eyes to avoid your gaze. I know that you have a slight smile on your face at the knowledge that you can do whatever you like to this neat little body.

You ask if I touched myself in the night and I whisper that I did "a bit" but only when I was on my front like you said. You tell me to turn over which I do and you see my bum. My nips feel a bit tender as they are now pressing down into the mattress; my hands are beside me palms upwards. You push my pyjama top up so you can see and feel the sweep of my back and you pull my hair up so you can run your fingers up the back of my neck then your hands both run all the way down my back to my buttocks. Suddenly I feel your right hand lift away and I brace myself for what I know is coming.

The slap lands hard on the centre of my right buttock and I utter an "AAgh." The spanking continues on both cheeks and I begin to squirm but I stay face down. My poor bottom is now very sore and I know the whole household can hear the sound of your slaps and my increasingly loud responses. I am turning my lip inwards and can feel myself dribbling. I push my head into the pillow. Still the spanks rain down with you using all your strength.

And then it is over. You sit back and observe the small, quivering little heap that is Julie.

"What do you say Julie?"

"Thank you Sir."

"Very good Julie. Now I want you to spend today naked so you won't be able to go out. Take off your pyjama top and go downstairs to breakfast."