EMMA AT SCHOOL 18

Drinking Is Bad For Your Health

Deborah didn't pause, but kept right on:

"And the door opens and daddy storms in cos he's come back home to collect some papers and heard us upstairs.

"He's got this big strap in his hand and starts yelling and swinging the strap at Andy's bottom - luckily I wasn't on top - and keeps on whacking him while Andy picks up his clothes and just shoots out of there.  Then he turns round to me and I'm curled up there on the bed without a stitch on and he walks over and starts sniffing.

"I'm waiting for him to roll me over and lay into me with the strap, but he doesn't.  Instead he asks if I've been drinking.  When I say yes, he sits on the side of the bed and starts lecturing me - well, no it wasn't really a lecture, just kind of talking to me - about drink and stuff.  "Then he asks if Andy wore a condom.  I say no and daddy starts going on about AIDS and pregnancy and all that - in fact, that was the last time I ever had unprotected sex - and then he asks, you know, why did I screw him without any protection or anything.  I said that we didn't have anything and Andy said he'd pull out and that, you know, we were pissed, so... and that's when daddy interrupted and agreed, Yes - you were drunk.  Would you still have had unprotected sex if you hadn't been drinking?' "I said, No' - a little sullenly I guess - and daddy took hold of my hands in his and said gently, That’s why I haven't just put you over my knee and given you a good tanning.  I want you to recognise a few things about drinking.  Especially about drinking and boys.  Someone you haven't even met - maybe someone you don't even fancy - suddenly has an easy route into your knickers and you don't even seem to appreciate what's going on.  "Let’sreak it down bit,' he goes.  What kind of things might you let a boy do when you're drunk that you wouldn't when you're sober?  Start right at the beginning.  Maybe you're dancing at a party with this boy and you've had a few drinks.  You never really fancied him, but he's OK to hang out with.  What difference does the drink make?'

"Well,' I said, ÎI guess I might let him kiss me.'

"ÎOK, then what?'

"ÎI don't know, maybe he'll stroke my bottom or something.'

"And you'll let him?'

"What - we're at a party and I've been drinking a bit?  I guess so.' "Anyway, I won't go through it all now, but daddy made me talk about this imaginary boy feeling my tits, touching me up under my skirt, taking off my clothes - all with me sitting naked on my bed with daddy holding my hands and talking really quietly about all this stuff."

Looking up, Deborah noticed her friend's closed eyes and her hand nestling between her thighs.

"Hey, are you getting hot?" she laughed.

"Just a bit," Emma replied with a hint of embarrassment.  "I can't help it."

"Me too," Deborah told her, confessing: "I was even getting turned on then - with daddy talking to me about all this sexy stuff, sitting there naked and everything." 

She leant over then and planted a deep kiss on Emma's mouth before taking a breath and sighing "Anyway....  Daddy said he wanted to talk to me about my drinking  in his study in one hour and that we'd Work out' how to Help' me avoid getting into trouble with boys because of alcohol.

"Then he said that there were still a couple of other things which needed attention and which he was going to Discipline' me for.  And he put his arm under my knees and pulled my legs right up and back so he could reach my bottom and still make me look at him.  My legs were apart a bit as well, so my pussy was all open too - and what with screwing Andy earlier and all that stuff with daddy, I knew he'd be able to see how wet I was - embarrassing is not the word!"

Emma was tying to picture the scene, her face puzzled.

"He pulled your legs where?"

Deborah rolled over onto the floor.

"Look.  Lie on your back.  That's it.  So he put his arm under me like this..."

As she spoke, Deborah slid her hand beneath her lover's thighs to lift her legs in the air and then push her knees right down near her ears.  "See," Deborah commented, "neat spankable bum and naughty pussy cute and available."  And to demonstrate the truth of her statement she ran a single finger along the length of Emma's slit before slapping her right cheek sharply.

"Of course, I had no knickers on," Deborah continued, briskly attending to this discrepancy and then taking on her father's role.  "What you need to understand, young lady," she said sternly, alternating smacks to either side of Emma's now naked behind, "is that I don't like things going on behind my back.  I know that it is not useful for me to tell you not to be sexually active, but their must be rules!" On Rules' Deborah spanked Emma twice, a little harder now - hard enough to win a yelp.

"If you are going steady with someone and you ask me if he can stay - once I've met him and decided that I consider him a fit boyfriend for you, I am prepared to allow you to sleep together - if you use proper protection.  "But..." and this was accompanied by another hard smack.  "If (smack) you plan (smack) to go behind my back (smack) and invite boys (smack) into your bed (smack) without discussing it with me (smack), then this (SMACK) will (SMACK) be (SMACK) the (SMACK) penalty (SMACK SMACK SMACK!)" Emma was yowling now as Deborah turned her cheeks red, but she managed to stay in role.

"Daddy!  Stop please!  I'm sorry daddy!"

"I intend for you to be sorry," came the reply.  "And as for you not taking precautions.  Have they talked to you about contraception and AIDS and stuff at school?"

"A bit."

"And how do they rate withdrawal then?"

"They... it isn't very good as contraception... and it doesn't stop AIDS." "Right.  So the punishment you could end up with is getting pregnant... or getting AIDS.  Do you think that's a reasonable risk you were taking?" "No, daddy.  I'm sorry."

"Really.  Compared to that, a spanking's a pretty easy option isn't it?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Yes, daddy," Deborah repeated sternly.  Then she began to spank Emma again, this time her hand moving towards the other girl's pussy, her hand landing some of the time across both bottom, thighs and vulva and bringing a combination of screeches to Emma's lips.  All the while she was spanking, Deborah continued to relate her father's monologue about the dangers of unprotected sex, a diatribe which continued long enough to cover the landing of twenty to thirty hard smacks.

Finished, Deborah let Emma's legs down and slipped her hand between her friend's thighs .

"Did your dad really spank you like that - you know on your pussy." "Yeah - I wasn't sure whether it was on purpose or not.  But spanking you I've realised it must have been.  I guess it was because it was about what I let inside my snatch.  He didn't stop there either." "You're kidding?"

"Nope.  He made me hold my own legs in the same position, although when you hold your own knees your legs spread wider, and then he gave me four stripes with the strap for going behind his back.  That really hurts.  And then there was still the punishment for drinking to come." "Was that worse?"

Deborah rolled her eyes.  "Let me get you something." While her lover was upstairs, Emma replaced her knickers and then waited, stroking herself gently.  When Deborah got back, she knelt between Emma's feet and took over from her friend's hand, teasing her clitoris through the thin cotton of her underwear.

"OK," Deborah began, "remember I told you about daddy making me go through all these things I might let a boy do after a few drinks that I might not have without?"

Emma hummed her agreement, Deborah's intimate touch making her too horny to speak.

"Well," Deborah carried on, passing Emma a piece of paper with a typed list on it.  "When I got to daddy's study after an hour, he had this list ready."

Emma took the piece of paper.  At the top was a date, then a heading: "The following is a list of things that Deborah might allow a boy to do to her after she has been drinking, even though she doesn't really want to. 

"1.  Kiss her.

"2.  Touch her knee and bare thighs.

"3.  Touch her buttocks through her clothing.

"4.  Touch her breasts through her clothing.

"5.  Remove her blouse and touch her breasts through her bra.

"6.  Put his hands under her skirt to touch her buttocks.

"7.  Kiss her breasts through her bra.

"8.  Put his hands under her skirt to touch her vulva.

"9.  Remove her skirt and touch her buttocks through her knickers.

"10. Kiss her bare inner thighs and vulva through her knickers.

"11. Put his hands inside her knickers to touch her buttocks.

"12. Remove her bra and touch her bare breasts.

"13. Kiss her bare breasts.

"14. Remove her knickers.

"15. Kiss her bare vulva.

"16. Touch her clitoris and penetrate her vagina with his fingers.

"17. Have her suck his penis.

"18. Have sexual intercourse with her."

As Emma's eyes ran down the list, she found herself imagining (often she needed only to remember) this unnamed boy violating her girlfriend... and it only made her wetter.

"So, anyway," Deborah began to speak again.  Daddy told me that the next weekend, he would hold a party and that I would have to be there.  He said that I had to have six drinks - double ones - and that after each one I would have to ask one of the men there to do one of the things on the list.  Like the first man would kiss me, the second would touch my knee and thigh, and so on up to number six.

"Then, after my bra had been taken off and my tits and my bum fondled, daddy said he would have me brought up in front of all of them, bent down over a table and then given six of the best with a cane through my skirt.  "Well, daddy had never caned me before, so that was bad.  Then the fact that I'd have to do this stuff with my DAD'S FRIENDS!  But of course, it only really got bad when..."

Emma interrupted.  "When you worked out what would happen at the next two parties?"

"Right," Deborah confirmed.  "Though daddy wouldn't talk about that.  Just about the first one."

"And did he mean it?" Emma asked, her eyes wide.  "Daddy always means what he says about punishment," Deborah whispered almost reverently.

"So?" Emma prompted.

"So daddy had this party.  There must have been twenty or thirty people there - men and women - though I was only to ask the men to do... you know.  They all knew what was going on before they came and I got a bunch of really weird looks from people on the way in.  Like, some people looked sympathetic, some of the men - and a couple of women as well actually - just looked..."  She searched for the word.

"Lecherous?" Emma suggested.

"Yeah - I guess.  Anyway, that part of the room," Deborah indicated a raised section in the window bay.  "That part was empty - I mean, people weren't allowed up there.  There was a table - just a bare wooden table - and on top of that a long cane.  I guess it's about the same as the one Mr Lindon uses for house publics.  Maybe a bit longer.  But it was there right from the start of the evening and everyone knew what it was for." Deborah stopped suddenly.  "Hang on," she said.  "It's here somewhere." She got up and began to rummage in the few cupboards in the room, finally emerging from the largest with a long crook-handled cane which she brought over to Emma.

"It's made from rosewood, not rattan," she explained, "so it's much more painful."

As Emma handled the instrument, she imagined Deborah bent down to receive it's cruel strokes, and her hand quickly returned to its warm, silken second home.

"So.  What happened?"

"Well.  The rules were all sent out in advance, so it just kind of started.  I had to choose one man each time and ask him for a drink.  He would get it and then, when I finished, he would do... whatever." "Did you know them?"

"Some of them.  Like the first guy I chose?  He's a friend of my dad's called Anthony and I've had a massive crush on him since I was a little girl.  Well, I chose him first and asked for a whiskey (they all had to be doubles) and he looked - well - kind of embarrassed.  But then he brought the drinks over and we toasted each other and he asked me about school and stuff.  And about drinking and whether I thought I was going to get into it.  I told him this evening was quickly putting me off the idea.  "Anyway, we finished our drinks and put the glasses down and then he took me completely by surprise.  Like, there was no warning or anything.  He just pulled me into his arms, lifted my chin and kissed my hard on the mouth.

"I felt his tongue on my lips and opened my mouth and we kissed - you know, like French kissed - for, like, minutes.  With a friend of my dad.  And he was holding me really tightly and I could feel his prick pressing against me so I pushed into him, rubbing my pussy against his cock.  It was just - delicious!

"Then it was over and I was just standing there hugging him, feeling his hard body against me with my arms round him and my face buried in his chest, and there was this big round of applause from all the other people.  Like, it was some circus act or something.  And Anthony was smiling at them all like it was some joke - which I guess it was to him.  He bent down and kissed me once more - just on my forehead - and then he turned me around and then... and somehow this was the most embarrassing part... he patted my bottom, like to send me off on my way, and I had to walk past all these men who were just laughing at me."

Emma saw her friends eyes watering a little at the memory and reached out to put a hand gently on her shoulder.

"What happened next?"

Deborah collected herself and carried on.

"OK, the next thing was... hang on, I've forgotten something.  You know the window bay, where the table was with the cane?" "Yeah."

"Well, there was something else there.  A pile of big red cards.  I forgot about this bit.  Before I had the first drink with Anthony, daddy rang this little bell and the woman in the room who was closest to the cards had to go over and pick up the top one and read it out.  It just said, like: If Deborah has been drinking, she might let a man kiss her when she doesn't really want to.'  That's when I had to go and choose someone to get me a drink.

"So after the kiss with Anthony daddy left a gap of about fifteen minutes before ringing the bell again and the woman who was closest - I think it was my sister actually...."

"Your dad let your sister watch?" Emma whispered.

"Yes.  Well, she's an adult.  He didn't let Hugh watch.  Thank God!  Anyway, Diana picked up the card and read it out with a big grin: If Deborah has been drinking, she might let a man put his hand on her knee and touch her bare thigh.'

"So, I went over to this guy - I mean, I'd worked out who I was going to choose by now cos I wanted to have the nicest men - or at least the least creepy - for, you know, the most intimate bits.  Anyhow, he was a bit creepy, but OK looking - I mean, there were plenty of men there who weren't like really old - you know, under 25 maybe?

"I asked him for a drink and he told me to sit down and wait for him.  He brought the drink back and sat next to me while we drank it and chatted to me - he was quite nice really - and then, when we finished... hold on.  Sit here, like this."

Deborah positioned herself and Emma on the sofa so that they were next to each other as at the party.

"Right.  You're me, OK?" Deborah asserted.

"OK."

"So," Deborah carried on, "luckily not too many people had stopped to watch this or I would have screamed with embarrassment.  But he starts out by putting his hand on my knee, like this."

Deborah rested her hand lightly on Emma's left knee, sending a thrill through her friend's charged body.

"He's still talking.  Well, we both are - about school and stuff - but as we're talking, his hand starts to creep up my leg.  I was wearing a miniskirt like daddy told me to, and his hand sneaks up to my hem..." As she spoke, Deborah leaned further in towards her lover, her hand faithfully following the story line and reaching Emma's skirt hem before slipping quietly beneath.

"I nearly did scream when he did that," Deborah explained, her fingers now roving lightly over Emma's upper thigh, "but I realised that I hadn't thought carefully enough about the words on the card.  It just said he could touch my knee and my bare thigh, not that he could only touch the bits he could see."

Deborah could see the colour rising in Emma's cheeks as her hand go closer and closer to her knickers and felt her own arousal increasing in tandem.  "He could easily have cheated and touched me up, you know, touched my pussy, but he just carried on rubbing my thighs like this." "Was it making you hot?" Emma asked with an audible shake in her voice.  "A bit, I guess," Deborah replied.  "Although you have to remember that there were loads of people just watching and this was not I guy I had any feelings for or anything."

"That doesn't usually prevent you opening your legs for boys." "Yeah... if I choose them," Deborah retorted a little defensively, but with her fingertips still gliding over the silky skin of her lover, a slight dampness now slowing their progress.

"What... what would have been cheating then?" Emma asked, her voice lower and rasping a little now.

"Well," Deborah smiled.  "If he'd opened my legs a bit, I'm not sure whether that would have been OK."

As she spoke, Deborah exerted a trace of pressure on Emma's left inner thigh and felt it move eagerly to the side.  Then she carried on her gently probing.

"I mean," Deborah explained.  "It would have meant all the guests could have looked up under my skirt and seen my knickers - but the card didn't say that wasn't allowed.  Of course," and here, Deborah leaned closer still so that her lips could brush Emma's ear as she spoke, "he might not have stopped when he reached my knickers...."

Again, Deborah's fingers followed the course of her (now imagined) narration, to the delight of her partner.

"Yes..." Emma whispered as two creepy-crawly fingers clambered onto the thin cotton veil of her knickers.

"He might have run his fingers along my slit...."

"No..." Emma breathed as her moist lips felt the sure touch of Deborah's caress.

"He might have sought out my clitoris and rubbed it slowly in little oval patterns...."

"Yes... yes..." Emma was sliding her hips forwards now, trying to speed up Deborah's leisurely progress, but being thwarted by her partner's rigidly teasing pace.

"He might..." and now Deborah's fingers moved up to Emma's tummy and then back down to her pantyline, running along the elastic waistband.  "He might have slipped his fingers inside my knickers to find out how wet I was.  How wet do you think I would have been?"

"Very wet," Emma gasped as the truth of her words covered Deborah's fingertips with a glistening slipperiness.  "What then?" "I don't know," Deborah mused, her index finger making a repeated shallow flight along the length of Emma's swollen vulva.

"He might..." Emma was almost inaudible now.  "He might have kissed you and pushed two fingers deep inside you."

"I suppose he might have done that," Deborah teased.  "I'm not sure it would have been in character though."

Emma was pushing her whole body up at her friend's hand now, any attempt to maintain her composure long forgotten.

"Please...." she moaned.  "Please..."

And then, with a broad smile, Deborah looked into her lover's pleading face and lowered her mouth, her fingers simultaneously and suddenly thrusting deep inside her as the story was, for the moment anyway, forgotten.  Once both girls were sated, Deborah returned to her narrative, although now with her fingertips working Emma's clitoris more directly than before, aided by the absence of knickers or other obstacle.  She explained how the remainder of the evening's groping had taken place on the dance floor, and how - now that the drink was flowing - she had felt less embarrassed by it and the audience had become more interested in their own flirting and seduction and less interested in what was happening to her.

She described dancing with strange men who, in front of everyone, chose to - no, indeed, had a duty to - stroke her pert bottom cheeks or her breasts .  She told of how her next door neighbour had kissed her mouth while unbuttoning her blouse and then cupped her tits in his hands, tracing tiny circles around her hardening nipples.

"How come he was allowed to kiss you?" Emma asked.  "Oh.  They were allowed to do anything that had already appeared on an earlier card," she explained, her fingers explaining something unrelated down between her lover's thighs.

"Then the last guy put his hands under my skirt and rubbed my bottom.  In fact, he lifted my skirt quite a way up so I'm sure everyone could see my knickers, and see his fingers running along the crack between my buns, just stopping before he reached my pussy."

"Like this," Emma inquired sweetly, sucking on one finger and then sliding it along the very same crack - although unhindered by knickers and thus able, on reaching the warm, wrinkled ring at the end of the journey, to slip with only a little friction up to her knuckle in Deborah's anus.  "Oohh!" the skewered girl groaned.  "That's gorgeous!"

"Have you ever been fucked up the arse?" Emma asked her.  "Not yet," Deborah answered as the finger within her began to move slowly in and out.  "I've been rimmed, though."

"What's that?"

"That's when someone licks and sucks your arsehole," Deborah informed her.

"Yuk!"

"Well, you think "yuk" if you want," Deborah said.  "But I tell you, it is one of the most amazing sensual experiences that exists.  I swear." Emma giggled.  "But isn't it really smelly?"

"If you have a bath first, then you're clean.  Why should it be smelly?" "If you have a bath," Emma repeated, removing her embedded finger and adding with a smile.  "Like I've just had a bath?" "I guess," Deborah answered, returning her friend's grin.  Emma looked uncertain for a moment and then rolled over and raised herself to her knees, her thighs spread.

"How do you know I'm not just going to spank you?" Deborah asked.

"I don't."

"No."

Deborah considered the offering, the target part neatly displayed between Emma's two cool globes.

"I'm just going to finish this part of the story off," she said, running her hand over her friend's bottom.  "Do you promise not to move until I tell you?"

Emma was used to making promises like these.

"I promise."

"OK.  Well, after my next door neighbour had had his feel of fourteen-year-old bum, the next time the bell rang it was for my caning.  I walked up to the table and bent over - daddy had made me rehearse it during the afternoon.

"There were two straps for my wrists on the table top, and two for my ankles on its legs.  It didn't make any odds on that first day, but I couldn't help noticing how far apart my thighs were spread.  A bit like yours really," she concluded, moving her hand between Emma's legs to demonstrate the instant accessibility of her pussy.  "Daddy picked up the cane and came to stand behind me.  He didn't say a word, which was really weird because usually when I get spanked, it's right after the lecture that goes with it - but this time I'd already had the Talking to' and it was just the punishment to come.  "I felt the cane resting on my bottom and then it was gone.  There was a whooshing sound and then I felt it crack across my bum." Emma jolted as a hard hand smack landed on her right cheek.  "It wasn't as painful as Mr Lindon's cane, but then it was being given through my skirt.  And even then, six strokes was enough to have me in tears."

Deborah jumped up then and picked up the cane.  Almost before Emma had worked out what was happening, the rod had flashed through the air and cracked loudly against the bare bottom of the prostrate girl.  The scream, Deborah decided, was delicious.  So far, Deborah had only witnessed her girlfriend being caned twice, and both times she had been taking a beating too and therefore not easily able to concentrate.  " I must," she thought as she knelt back down behind Emma's quivering buttocks, watching the angry red line growing from the creamy skin, "find a way of getting to watch Emma being caned.  I'm sure I'd come on the spot!" The arousing moans of pain from Emma's lips were still washing soothingly over Deborah's ears as she bent to kiss the welt her father's cane had just imprinted.  Then she made her way slowly, her tongue slithering across her lovers' marking all the way, to the unscarred valley between her buttocks, the taste and smell of mingling sweat and sex driving her senses wild.  Finally, her tongue found the tiny hole it sought and ran back and forth along the channel, her lips joining the exploration, her tongue pushing its way just inside the small ring.  And all the while, as she kissed and sucked and licked her girlfriend's bottom, Emma's crying blended with the sounds of her growing heat until they merged into a noisy, wailing orgasm.  When Deborah bean the next part of the story, Emma had her knickers back on again.  She told Deborah that she felt odd sitting half naked in someone else's sitting room - which was true - but she also felt that now that Deborah had started swinging that cane about, the more protection she could keep about her, the better.

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