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Student uses roommate's things.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,507 Followers

You stick two eighteen year olds in the same room and tell them they're rooming together for the rest of the year and there are going to be tiffs between them. I don't care who they are. You may have two incipient Mother Teresa's in that room but, at age eighteen, they're going to have fights.

So it was with Debbie and me. We'd been allocated the room at the start of the school year and we were stuck with each other. Me, I'm dead easy to get on with, but Debbie can be a bit narky at time. And she's much more of a neatnik than I am, although that doesn't mean that I'm a slob.

Now I'm not saying that any little tiffs we had were always Debbie's fault. I'm woman enough to own up to having a few minor faults, and perhaps the blame for some of the fights rested on my shoulders. Still, I've always said that if Debbie wouldn't get so uptight over little things, things that don't really matter, we wouldn't be squabbling.

Take the current instance. I had a date lined up. I thought it was going to be a hot date, with interesting prospects at the end of it. Turned out that this guy was such a loser that I don't think he's even joined the human race yet. He's another story, though. I'll tell you about him some other time. The point is, I thought he'd be a real nice guy, and I had to dress to impress, now didn't I?

So when I was changing I spotted Debbie's nice blouse just lying on her bed, doing nothing. That blouse looks real good on me, so naturally I borrowed it for the date. I don't mind sharing my stuff and I didn't think Debbie would mind me sharing hers.

A little bit of a very nice lippy and a dash of perfume and I'd headed off, places to go, men to conquer.

Like I inferred earlier, the date was a wash. I couldn't believe that I let that guy talk me into a date. First and last one with him, I assure you. After giving him the shake I met up with some friends at a nightclub and hung out with them for a while before calling it a night and coming home early.

Debbie was already in our room when I returned. That was expected. She'd said she was doing some studying tonight and going out tomorrow night. What wasn't expected was the filthy mood she was in. She jumped me as soon as I walked in the door.

"Why are you wearing my blouse?" she demanded. "You didn't ask if you could borrow it."

"Hey, it was just lying on your bed and you weren't going out so I knew you wouldn't need it tonight."

"No. I just need it tomorrow night. And I especially washed and ironed it so it would be nice for tomorrow. Now look at it."

OK, so I'd managed to get a bit of grot on it. Geez. It'd wash, and then all you had to do was iron it again.

"Well, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll wash it tomorrow and have it ironed ready for your date."

"You're kidding, right? I've seen the way you wash and iron things. Just give it to me and I'll do it myself."

Suited me. I don't like washing and ironing my own stuff, let alone someone else's. I took off the blouse and tossed it onto Debbie's bed while she continued to give me a killer stare.

"What?" I said, spreading my hands in an expression of bewilderment.

"Nice lippy," she said through clenched teeth.

Um, yes. She'd got me again. She never liked me borrowing her lipstick, which is fair enough. I don't like people borrowing mine.

"Ah, yes, um, I sort of ran out and I didn't have time to go and buy some and I was going on this date. . ." My voice trailed off guiltily.

"Oh, I see," said Debbie, her voice all sweetness all of a sudden. "You were in a hurry. I suppose that's why you accidentally picked up my good perfume instead of your own stuff. You only have three bottles of your own."

But my perfumes were cheap stuff. Good enough for most things but not for what was supposed to have been a hot date. Debbie's perfume, on the other hand, was sensational. It probably cost more than all of my bottles combined. She really did have a taste for fine cosmetics.

All I could do was look guilty, which was easy, because I was.

"It's not good enough," railed Debbie. "You've gone too far. I'm going to complain and get another roommate. Someone who has a bit of respect for other people's property."

Now that I couldn't have. I'd get a big black mark against me if Debbie did make a formal complaint. What was worse, if the staff listened and agreed, guess which of us would have to move. I'd lay odds that, being the villain, I'd also be the bunny, and I quite liked this room.

So I grovelled. You know, mea culpa, and I'm sorry, and it'll never happen again, grovel, grovel, grovel.

The little bitch was adamant. She'd had enough of my wicked ways and she wanted blood.

"For crying out loud," I finally snapped. "What do you want me do? Bare my bum and get a spanking? I've said sorry."

"Yes, I do," Debbie snapped right back.

"Do what?" I asked, surprised.

"I expect you to bare your bottom and get a spanking."

I couldn't believe it. She had to be kidding.

"And just who is going to deliver the spanking," I asked sweetly. "Going to call on your boyfriend to help you deliver it, perchance?"

"No. I'll spank you myself. You just have to bend over and take it. And I'll be the one to decide when it's over."

"You're serious?" I asked incredulously.

"Dead serious," she said, and she sounded pretty determined. "It's either that or I go and make a formal complaint."

I glared at her, but she wasn't backing off. It was either let her spank me or she'd really go and report me. I capitulated, but with a condition.

"OK. I'll do it. But the next time that we have a fight and it's your fault, I get to spank you."

"Fair enough," Debbie said, a big smirk on her face. She always seems to think that any tiffs we have are my fault. That's because she always apologises fast if she knows she's stuffed up, and I'm a very forgiving person. Not next time.

Debbie sat on her bed and I dropped my slacks and panties and went to bend over, only to find her giggling.

"What's so funny," I asked.

"You, dressed in just that lacy little bra," she said.

I glanced at myself in the dressing table mirror and had to give a wry smile. She had a point. I looked ridiculous wearing just the bra. I unclipped it and tossed it to the side. Then I bent over Debbie's knee.

The first few spanks weren't anything. Debbie is quite a small girl, not that strong. Mind you, the spanks did sting a bit and I was feeling a little resentful. Trouble was, as the spanks kept coming, my bottom was getting sorer. The accumulation of spanks meant that the new ones were really starting to sting, and I'm quite sure my bottom was turning red.

Now, to keep Debbie happy, I'd been giving out squeaks and squeals while she spanked, making out it hurt more than it did. At first. Now I was making with the squeals because it was hurting.

I thought I heard a knock, but then my thoughts were interrupted by another spank and I squealed.

Someone had knocked and they assumed that the squeal was a call to come in. I heard the door open and close behind me and boy, did my face start to burn. Whoever had just walked in was staring right at my bare bottom. I did so not want to turn and see who it was.

"I heard some odd noises so I knocked. I thought someone said enter," came a very pleasant baritone, and I died.

I knew that voice. It was Mr Barton, the new maths teacher. Oh, god, I had the new maths teacher standing behind me and looking at my bare bottom and my pussy. What colour red was my face?

"Debbie, Michelle," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I hadn't realised that you were gay."

Gay? What was he talking about? Come the dawn. I was naked and bent over Debbie's lap while her hand was on my bottom. She hadn't shifted it from where it had just landed when the door opened.

"Gay? We're not gay," squealed Debbie. "I was just spanking Michelle for being mean. That's all."

"Really," came a disbelieving voice. "Just a little corporal punishment. Nothing sexy about it at all."

"That's right," said Debbie, and I could just about hear her brains rattling, she was nodding her head so fast. Me, I was frozen. What? I should get up and turn around to face the teacher? You've got to be kidding. I just lay there, praying that the floor would open and swallow me.

"You don't mind if I check that?" came the casual query.

Debbie just gave an odd sounding squeak and I didn't say anything. But what the hell did he mean, check it?

A finger poked me in the pussy. Just out of the blue, bam, there was a finger pressing against my pussy. It gave a little wriggle and then it was inside me. Mr Barton had stuck a finger between my lips and was moving it around inside me. He pulled it out after a moment to my intense relief.

It turned out he pulled it out because he wanted to stick two fingers inside me, to my intense horror. And he was pushing them in and out, getting a real good feel, the swine.

"Well, Debbie, it seems to me that Michelle is very much sexually stimulated. She's hot and wet and, the way she pushed against my hand, eager to get going. But you're just giving her a spanking? Nothing else?"

Debbie gave a squeak that seemed to be assent, and I could imagine her head nodding again. Me, I still had nothing to say. If I opened my mouth I was afraid I'd just scream with embarrassment. Naked, spanked and with a teacher poking my pussy. God, I'd never live this down.

"It seems to me, Debbie, that you're not being really fair to Michelle. You're getting her all worked up and then nothing. She'll be in a state all night long. You need to make sure she has some relief."

"What do you mean?" asked Debbie, sounding rather nervous.

Yes, what the fuck do you mean, and why haven't you gone away when you can see I'm naked?

"I'll show you," he said.

There was a noise and I heard Debbie give a gasp, and I'm wondering what the hell, wondering if I should get up off Debbie's knee, even if it does mean showing off everything. Hells bells, he could already see everything. I was all ready to get up off Debbie's knee when I got poked in the pussy again.

This time it wasn't by any frigging finger. A big fat cock was pressing against my pussy, already forcing my lips to yield. The squealing that had stopped when Mr Barton entered the room started up again with a vengeance when Mr Barton entered me.

I started going "Oh, wowowowowow," and my voice went so high you'd have thought I was yodelling, and while I was squealing Mr Barton's cock was advancing. It turned out he was right. I was hot and wet and his cock just slid down my passage as though it was going home after a long absence.

"There," I heard Mr Barton telling Debbie. "You can hear how eager she is. Now just give me a few moments to help her out a little more."

Eager? I was protesting, damn it. I was fishing around inside my head for the right words to tell him where he could take his cock, and what he should do with it, when he pulled back and drove firmly home again.

That initial entry had been a smooth and steady advance. Now that his cock knew the way, smooth and steady didn't come into it. Mr Barton was pumping back and forth in fine style, and instead of protesting I was responding, squealing my head off and bouncing my bottom as he took me.

I heard Debbie give a feeble, "Mr Barton," in a shocked tone, like that was going to do any good.

From that point on things got rather interesting from my point of view. Mr Barton was standing behind me, hands on my hips, driving into me, and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. I have to admit that things weren't too bad from my point of view. I was getting a very good fucking, and I wouldn't have to feel guilty about doing something naughty, because I didn't have any choice. So I was able to just relax and enjoy it.

I did enjoy it too. Mr Barton certainly knew what he was doing with that cock of his and seemed determined that I shouldn't feel abused. He slid in and out, pausing every so often for just a tiny moment, as though judging my reactions, before continuing to give it to me.

I have to admit that part of my enjoyment was knowing that Debbie was watching everything. How could she do otherwise when I was still draped over her knee? I was prepared to wager that she was getting all worked up as well, and she wouldn't have the relief that I was getting. And she was also probably feeling guilty, because she was the one who insisted on the spanking.

Mr Barton was still happily ploughing the field, and as the field concerned I had no complaint. My squeals were, admittedly, getting a little shriller, but that was simply because I could feel my climax coming on. Mr Baron judged it to a nicety, suddenly banging in hard at just the right moment, making me squeal louder than ever before spiralling away and dying in bliss.

I recovered pretty quickly. Mr Barton was still there when I started to snap out of the post-coital daze.

"I'll leave you to finish the spanking now," he told Debbie. "If she's been a bad girl, make sure you give her a good reason not to be that way again."

Would you believe that Debbie promptly began spanking me again. I was outraged. I tried to push myself off her knee but she told me to lie still.

"We agreed that I'd decide when the spanking is over," she reminded me, "so you just have to lie there and take it."

I lay there and took it, squirming and squealing and protesting, until finally Debbie was smugly satisfied.

I told her she was a bitch and she laughed.

There and then I decided that when I did have an excuse to spank her, I would arrange for Mr Barton to turn up. Preferably before the spanking actually started, so she would have time to truly anticipate what he would do.

Ashson
Ashson
8,507 Followers
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5 Comments
Traveller19Traveller19about 9 years ago
what a stupid sh*te

Apart from rape being rape, what was the Math teacher suddenly doing in the room? He sure doesn't like his job, does he? Geez, a little credibility, please. If he had business coming to the female students dorm, fine, but that should be explained. The writer is too lazy or lacks the fantasy to work out a way how the punishment situation can turn lesbian and sexual, so Mr.Dick has to barge in

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

I'd love to be Debbie, having her fucked across my lap, spanking her arse as Mr Barton's cock slid in and out... My lap covered in pussy juice... Then swallow Mr Barton's cock...lick it clean before burying my face in her cunt... Cleaning it out and making her cum again! Perhaps Mr Barton watching, getting hard and fantasising about her arse...his fingers rubbing Debbie's clit...keeping her keen...

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
yum

The only way this would be better is if the roommate got fucked as well:)213B

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
What???

I enjoy your style of writing, but sometimes your story lines are a bit unbelievable. This one is totally implausible. Too much is simply too much!

ThintriThintriover 9 years ago
Love your work

Mate, You're a machine! How many stories is that now?

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