The Program Ch. 06-11

Chapter 6: like mother like daughter, big-titted mother visits, office discipline

In September, at the beginning of Janice's junior semester, she informed me that her mother, Janine, was intent on visiting during Thanksgiving. I was dismayed, since a parent's visit meant lots of preparation and inconveniences. Janice assured me that her mother would not be dissuaded.

Seeing how disgruntled I was, she showed me a photo. I was surprised, to put it mildly. Although she was only 36, Janine looked more like an older sister of 26 than a parent. And the daughter was a spitting image. The mother had lustrous, straight short black hair, huge eyes and even fuller lips. Her expression was a combination of a sly smile and an enticing look. I wondered if a negative could be turned into a positive. . . .

I asked if there were more photos. After a moment, Janice nodded and brought me a stack of shots. They were made to post on online dating sites. Janice had been the photographer. There was a large variety: head shots, full body, casual and elegant clothing, light-to-elaborate makeup, indoors and out. Janice was naturally gifted and inventive with a camera. There was no denying that Janine was hot, with a bust that appeared even larger than her daughter's, voluptuous hips, and a tall, toned body. Then the shots became more interesting.

In one set, Janine was smiling or laughing while washing the car on a Saturday, wearing short shorts and a tight tube top that revealed her great tits and slender long legs. Holding a large, soapy and dripping car sponge, her chest was covered with suds that continued in a trail down her flat abdomen and onto the zipper of her shorts. To say it was suggestive does not do it justice. But her light expression kept it from being too tawdry. Following were shots of her bent over the hood, legs spread, and leaning backward over the hood, legs again spread.

Janice explained that her mother had drunk a double rum and coke before the series, and that she hadn't published the lewd ones on any Web sites. But the two of them had such a good time playing around that they proceeded with another session the very next day. Again fortified with a strong cocktail, Janine was lying on a chaise lounge in a brief black bikini that revealed even more of her incredible body. Intriguingly, in one shot her arms were stretched above her head, but the image ended before her wrists. To me, the pose was suggesting that her hands were bound.

In another set, she posed in her bedroom, wearing a sheer black baby doll and assuming various lurid positions. Janice explained the final image. Since she worked out almost every day, Janice had suggested a photo that would display her mother's buffed arms. Janine sat on a bench, propped against the scrolled ironwork railing at the foot of her bed. Large dark nipples tented the thin baby doll fabric. Her arms were stretched horizontally, the taut muscles plainly visible, but like the bikini photo, the picture ended before her wrists. I asked Janice if there was any tension on her mother's arms, and Janice replied that, in order to accentuate the muscles, she'd tied her mother's hands to the bedposts with stockings.

"How did she react when you suggested tying her?" I asked.

"She thought it was strange, but didn't object," Janice said. "I teased her about leaving her like that, but I didn't. After we finished, she was unusually quiet or subdued for the rest of the day." After Janice answered a detailed series of questions about her mother, I formed a plan.

On the last day of school before Thanksgiving, I dispatched the staff's car and driver – with Janice – to pick up her mother at the train station. As the vehicle approached, my driver was stunned to see the gorgeous, incredibly sexy woman who was waiting for them. When Janice climbed out of the car to hug her mother, the driver was even more surprised to see how remarkably similar they appeared.

The two women entered my office after the students had been dismissed and the faculty and staff had departed. In person, the mother was stunning, even better than she appeared in the photos. Above an elegant full skirt, she wore a short, tight waist-length jacket. Beneath the jacket, all that was visible of the blouse was a collar extending up to her neck.

After Janice took a position standing against the wall, legs spread and hands clasped behind her, Janine sat and I kept looking back and forth to compare the two. Janine laughed and acknowledged that my reaction was typical. She had a wonderful, throaty laugh, all the more appealing because of the wide mouth and plump lips. Since it was 4 pm, I offered her a sherry, which she accepted with pleasure and quickly finished.

We spent several minutes discussing Janice's progress – the usual stuff, including academics and sports. "She looks wonderful, Headmaster, more womanly somehow, tanned and fit. And even her legs look trim than I remember."

"Yes, she's doing well with soccer and lacrosse. Janice, raise your skirt and show your mother how fit your legs are." There was a moment of silence as Janice stood unresponsively. She knew exactly what I meant about how high to lift the short uniform. "You've just earned your first punishment."

Reluctantly, the girl moved her hands from behind her back and ever so slowly lifted the skirt to her waist, exposing her taut long legs and French cut, black lace panties. "Janice!" her mother gasped, shocked at the display and surprised that her daughter wasn't wearing some regulation, coarse and heavy plain white cotton panties.

"That's all right, Janine, I've coached plenty of teams in my time and am used to seeing student bodies." Janice continued to hold the skirt at her waist. "Besides, we're traditional at Ansonia but because we value sports and dance so highly, we admire the human form. It's nothing to be prudish and old-fashioned about." I refilled her sherry glass. Now uncomfortable, the beauty quickly consumed the second glass.

When I asked about Janine's journey, she said it was lengthy, with multiple transport segments and connections, but acceptable until near the end, when she waited a tiring half hour at the station.

"Was your train early?" I asked. That would be a first!"

"No, Janice was late," she answered. I turned to my student, at right angles to us, her hands clasped behind her, eyes lowered.

"Have you any explanation for that rude behavior, after your mother came across the country at great expense, time and effort?"

"No, Headmaster."

I turned back to Janine. "How would you have treated this inconsiderate behavior at home? Ignored or indulged it, like so many modern parents?"

"Oh no, Headmaster, as a child she was punished," Janine clarified. I waited, eyebrows raised. "She was spanked fairly frequently."

"I prefer that you, as her mother, administer the discipline yourself, rather than me."

"Oh!" she said, flustered. "Do you mean here—and now?"

"Why not? We find it's far better to deal with a discipline situation immediately."

"I see. . . yes, I suppose that makes sense," she said, acquiescing to my position and authority, her nervousness now beginning to be underscored with a tinge of excitement at the prospect of making her pouting and rude daughter submit before a stranger.

"Perhaps a cup of our special tea would fortify you?"

I went to my outer office, where the water quickly boiled in the electric kettle. I brewed a pot of strong English tea with milk, adding several shots of strong dark rum, and placed a large mug on the side table next to Janine's chair. She drank and, intrigued by the taste, swallowed more. "Headmaster, it's delicious!" Apparently she didn't realize it was liberally laced with rum. "How do you make it?"

"Oh, it's an Ansonia secret. Now, let's proceed, Janice." Grudgingly, the girl trudged to her mother and lay across her lap, automatically spreading her legs.

"You'll be much more stable, Janine, if you take a wider stance with your legs." Cooperatively, Janine spread her long strong legs until her daughter's mons was under one thigh. Without being asked, Janice raised her skirt in the rear. "Continue," I said to the prostrate girl. Deeply humiliated, but before Janine could object, my submissive pulled down her panties. Janine was not only surprised at this development, she stared at her nubile daughter's rump, stunned by the fading marks that extended across it. As if in a trance, she lifted her arm and extended her hand, tracing her fingers over the stripes. "Janine," I said, to pull her out of her shock. Slowly she lifted her eyes to mine.

"Spanking is for children, Janine. Here at Ansonia we're not afraid to use the proper instruments on young women. And why hurt your own hand with spanking? If it's the first time you're using an instrument, I suggest ten to twelve strokes with a leather tawse. It's easy to use when sitting and much more mild than a whip or cane."

"I see," she replied, hastily swallowing more of the altered tea, clearly affected by the caffeine and rum.

"And why don't you pull up your skirt. That way, Janice won't slip and slide on its fabric." Becoming ever more obedient, the now perspiring beauty and her half-naked daughter adjusted themselves while Janine raised her skirt, revealing lovely gray stay-ups that looked as if they might be French. The moment Janice settled back, her mother immediately felt the excited girl's wetness on her naked thigh. I waited while the dazed mother processed the fact that her daughter was literally dripping with excitement. I could only hope that the mother was now dripping as well.

"Janine, you appear to be over-warm. May I suggest you remove your jacket? Ansonia's heating system is ancient and the rooms are frequently overheated." I made no mention of the small, quiet black space heater under my desk, aimed at her chair. She appeared to be uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"That's not necessary, Headmaster."

I did not relent. "You'll become much warmer when you begin. I'm afraid I insist. We wouldn't want you to faint from exertion, would we?" Several seconds passed.

"Yes, Headmaster," she conceded. May I please have another cup of tea?" While she slowly unbuttoned her jacket, I poured another cup. Returning to my desk, I now understood her reluctance. While the high collar of the blouse gave the impression of conservative, the white blouse was actually the lightest silk, displaying a demi bra underneath in the traditional European style. Except that the bra was black, expensive black lace.

"What a lovely blouse. As is your daughter's expensive blouse, which will become soiled – or even ruined – during the discipline. Janice, remove it."

Panicked, Janine asked, "Is she wearing a bra?"

"Of course. A full bosomed girl such as Janice wears a bra whenever she leaves her apartment for classes, meals, athletics or events." Mollified, Janine avoided the embarrassing sight of her daughter stripping by turning to the side table and raising her mug as the humiliated Janice, still lying across her lap, unbuttoned and removed her blouse.

"Was Janice a screamer when she received punishment?" The mother nodded mutely, drinking deeply as Janice dropped the blouse on the table. "Open the drawer and you'll see something to quiet her, as well as a tawse." She slid open the drawer, seeing two black leather objects, a bridle-type gag (a four-inch wood dowel covered with leather) and the tawse. She held the gag in front of her daughter's open mouth and inserted it. I stood and refilled Janine's almost empty mug with a third serving. Since I'd drunk next to nothing, she would be consuming three liberal doubles of the disguised rum. "Drink up while it's still warm," I urged her. Dutifully, Janine swallowed more.

"Now there's only one more item and then we can begin." I removed a long leather strap from the same drawer as Janice extended her arms horizontally in front of herself, hands clasped. I bound them and began fastening the strap to the arm of a heavy chair near her.

"Headmaster, is that really necessary?" Janine asked in a quivering voice.

"Yes, of course my dear. Otherwise, Janice would be thrashing about." I sat down. "If you press down on the small of her back, it will also stabilize her and reduce the twisting about. Please begin." Hesitantly, the mother applied pressure to just above Janice's ass – which only forced the girl's pussy into the mother's thigh – and laid the first stroke into her daughter's ass. It was so tentative that upon impact, Janice neither moved nor made a sound.

Janine looked up at me immediately. "That shouldn't count, it was just a test." I nodded. Then I watched as mother struck daughter with increasing severity, as Janice began moaning, squirming her sweating body, abused ass and drenched pussy against Janine's thigh, as Janine's thin blouse became plastered to her bra. The girl raised her chest up, stretching the leather strap attached to her wrists. Finally, Janine saw that Janice's bra was a shelf bra, completely exposing her tits with their thick distended nipples. Infuriated at the lewd lingerie, Janine redoubled her strikes, expanding them to Janice's upper thighs, until the suffering girl's moans changed into guttural grunts of pain and arousal. At the twelfth blow, Janice lost all control and orgasmed, shaking feverishly and crying as her groin bucked obscenely on her mother's thigh, collapsing limply on Janine's lap as the climax passed.

Janine gulped her tea, amazed at how she'd just beaten her teen daughter to an orgasm. She turned back to me, dripping with sweat, eyes slightly glazed. "How dare she wear that bra?" she asked indignantly, apparently unaware that I'd been viewing every swirl of lace on her tight bra.

"Then finish her punishment," I said, daring her to continue. "The tradition here is to discipline the offending area. Janice, turn over." My well-trained student flipped over, twisting her wrist strap, naked tits heaving above the quarter bra, long legs kept wide apart. Now Janine realized that her daughter's pussy was completely shaved. "Place your hand on her lower belly to hold her." Unquestioningly, Janine put her hand on the sweating, lean abdomen, her long fingers covering the lurid sight of Janice's engorged one-inch clitoris. Enraged by Janice's indecent bra, sopping pussy and violent orgasm, Janine repeatedly struck the defenseless girl on her big tits while I watched the long fingers descend until they were first touching the surface of Janice's slick, wide labia and slit. Then Janine's middle finger sank into the opening. By the time Janine switched from hitting the tawse on Janice's tits to directly impacting the girl's obscene nipples, all three fingers had sunk into the slit and Janice arched up in a second shouting, shaking orgasm, finally sprawling on the slippery lap.

Janine was gasping, for she'd climaxed as well. Janice slid off her lap in seeming slow motion and landed on the floor, sniffling, arms stretched so tightly by the leather wrist strap that her marked and swollen tits with their inflamed nipples lifted completely off the shelf of the bra. The bridle gag slipped out of her slack mouth and slid down her sweaty chest to her belly. Since Janine's legs were spread as wide as possible and her skirt was bunched at the waist, I gazed at her thighs, liberally smeared with cunt juice, and her sheer black panties. Despite the lace, I could see – for she was also shaved except for a token, one-inch long and quarter-inch wide strip – her glistening pussy lips bulging against the imprisoning, stretched fabric.

Chapter 7: what's good for the submissive daughter is. . . .

I walked over in front of Janine, straddling the prone Janice, and lightly slapped both of the older woman's cheeks to bring her around. "You certainly pounded her tits with the tawse, didn't you Janine?"

"Yes, I suppose I got carried away," the sweating beauty admitted groggily, thirstily finishing the remains of her tea in several swallows.

I walked to her side, hands clasped behind my back. "You were so harsh that it looked as though you had no idea how it felt to Janice." She put on the blouse. "At this institution, we can only punish fairly and justly when we're aware of how much the other suffers. Janine, have you ever been punished like that?"

She'd been wondering where I was leading. "No. . . ." she said, puzzled.

"And you don't believe in a disciplinarian – or any teacher – acting from a place of inexperience or ignorance, do you?" I was now standing behind her.

"Of course. . . of course not," she said, warily.

"Then I think those lovely tits of yours should have some of the same treatment." I yanked her blouse down off her shoulders and wrapped it around the chair frame, imprisoning her arms. "And who better to administer it than somebody who knows exactly how it feels – your daughter."

Janine yelled. "No, you can't do this!" she said halfheartedly as I untied the straps from Janice's wrists and bound the mature beauty's spread ankles to the outside of the chair legs. I filled Janine's empty mug with the last of the tea, lifted a leather strap from the table's drawer, picked up the greasy gag from Janice's belly and helped the abused girl to stand, handing her the tea. Dehydrated, she gulped it all, her bruised tits still exposed above the quarter bra, her skirt till tucked into her waist, pussy completely visible.

Janine was seething, her chest heaving, struggling in the heavy chair, rocking it slightly, muttering about how "improper" our sordid scene was. To make it even more perverted, I shoved the spit-drenched gag into Janine's thick lips – curiously, she didn't resist – and fastened it with the new strap. I knelt between her legs and ever so slowly, pulled the bra straps off her beautiful shoulders, feeling the smooth skin. She looked at me beseechingly, the beginning of saliva appearing at the corner of her mouth, but she knew I could tell that she was very excited. Staring into her big eyes, I unfastened the bra's center clasp and lifted the lace cups off to the sides, exposing her large tits – 36C, I guessed, just slightly large than her daughter's – with their thick and elongated dark nipples. "Incredible," I murmured, first lifting the heavy tit flesh, then flicking the chocolate stalks back and forth.

I stared at her groin and she mewled into the gag, a sliver of drool extending from her gagged lips, while she shifted her butt on the chair, fearing the next step in her twisted debasement. "We don't permit double standards, so just like with Janice, we'll have to remove those pretty panties. But since we don't want to untie your ankles. . ." I removed a penknife from my pocket and slit the waistband, drawing off the damp garment. "Most beautiful," I sighed, stroking the thick labia, "but sitting there, I don't see how Janice can both beat your tits and also give your cunt relief, as you did for her. After all, fair's fair."

Saliva now dripping off her chin and splashing onto one of her tits, the mother looked despairingly at Janice, who was gloating over her nude and bondaged mother. "What do you think, Janice?"

"We could be nice and fasten a dildo to the seat of the chair." Janine yelled and twisted at this degrading suggestion.

"An excellent idea," I said, getting a medium dildo with an extended base and black tape from a drawer. "Lift up," I ordered, and Janine used those long strong thighs to hover a foot above the chair while I fastened the dildo to the chair's wood seat. Looking down, two strands of saliva now splattered onto the chair. After a couple of minutes, Janine's thighs began scissoring with the strain of the awkward position and she sank down onto the dildo until all of its six inches drove into her, groaning deeply.

I slapped her tits until she looked at me. "Janine, the vicious way you struck Janice's nipples did not escape my attention. So to maintain parity, we're going to hurt your nipples as well. But since you're the older, more experienced slut, you should have a higher threshold of pain. Rather than the tawse hitting your nipples a few times, they're so big and beautiful that they deserve constant attention." I removed two tiny chrome spring-mounted clothespins from my pocket. "They're small enough that they won't get in the way when your tits get hit." I wiped some saliva off a tit and smeared the drool on a huge nipple, savoring the feel. So did Janine, who closed her eyes to contain her arousal.