“I see I’ll need to be firm with you, you like to talk out of turn don’t you?”
“Yes sir, I’m incorrigible.” A grin.
He chuckled. “So, you want to go first do you my dear?”
She nodded.
“And you clearly have a big mouth.”
“Yes sir.”
“And you speak without being told you may; or did you misconstrue my observation as
a question?”
He was smiling at her, she smiled back. “Yes sir and no sir.”
He chuckled. “I have ways to deal with girls like you.” He pointed to the open,
flat, all-black metal briefcase on a chair nearby, the guitar case flaccid against the
chair leg. The case faced away from the girls so the contents were hidden. “Go fetch my
tongue stocks young lady, they’re clearly marked.”
Lisa had no idea what tongue stocks were, but she grinned and wiggled her hips as
she brushed past him.
Crack!
She stiffened as the paddle crashed against the seat of her jeans, not in pain, it
hadn’t hurt that much, just surprise.
Playing the game she turned back and gave him a smile. “Thank you sir.”
“I see. Stocks, now.”
“Yes sir.” Obediently she went to his open briefcase, looking in.
At a glance it was a small carefully ordered selection of what she assumed was
bondage equipment, things strapped into place so they wouldn’t shift when the case was
moved. With difficulty she could guess at what some things might be for, although of
course the handcuffs and even the ballgag was easily identifiable as such. The tongue
stocks were indeed marked. The jumble of wood and metal was in a small Ziploc bag and she
plucked it from the inner webbing along the top part of the briefcase. She brought it to
him, impertinently smiling, her hips swaying as she walked in a manner which could only be
highly intentional to the point several seniors murmured, exchanging glances as they
fingered rods and whips, waiting for the dominates signal; which never came.
“Good, now are you going to do as you are told, or do I have to get some of the
girls to hold you down?”
“I’ll do as I’m told sir.”
He nodded, hmmming thoughtfully. “Of course you will, ‘cause that’s not the game is
it. The game is to see how much you can get away with.”
It wasn’t really a question, he knew the answer, though she answered pertly, yet
softly enough many of the girls couldn’t hear; as they might have missed the question as
well. “Yes sir.”
He nodded as he opened up the bag and took the stocks out, slipping the Ziploc into
his pocket. He held them up, looking at her. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”
She grinned and complied obediently, keeping her hands at her sides, although she
unconsciously rubbed her fingers against her hips, her only obvious sign of tension, and
excitement. The stock was two wooden pieces connected with dowels and wingnuts. A light
piece of chain was threaded through a staple at either end, and the ends of the chains had
threaded pieces allowing them to be attached together. He brought up the stock noting the
wooden pieces were too close together. Lisa watched as he competently undid the wingnuts,
allowing the wooden pincers to slide further apart along the dowels connecting them. Her
tongue already felt dry, she licked her lips, tongue slipping inside her mouth as she
swallowed. She saw him open his mouth to speak but she quickly stuck her tongue back out
and he refrained. Instead he brought the stocks up, slipping the wood over and under her
tongue until the pieces were firm against her mouth.
“Hold it by the ends,” he said calmly.
Lisa murmured yes and brought her hands up, clutching the stock gently in her long
sensitive fingers. He pushed the top wooden piece down along the dowel until it pressed
into her tongue and forced her tongue firmly against the bottom piece of wood, she felt it
just beginning to hurt when he stopped pushing. He used a single finger to gently adjust
the wood block and the pain vanished as she murmured agreeably; he nodded, satisfied as he
looked into her eyes. Slowly he tightened the wingnuts so the stock wouldn’t move, her
tongue stuck out just a little between the wooden pieces. Her tongue was trapped firmly
between them so she couldn’t pull it back into her mouth, but there was only pain if she
tried to do so.
Lisa could smell the wood of the stock, brushing against the sensitive skin of her
nostrils; it had a light, sweetly heady scent like sandalwood, which in fact, it must be
made of.
He took up the light chains in each hand, bringing them behind her head as he
stepped around behind her. Lisa felt an unaccustomed churning in her belly as she met the
gazes of her classmates kneeling in a line before her. Some of them looked sympathetic,
others just glad it wasn’t them; she shivered lightly. Meanwhile he buckled the chains in
place, screwing them together until they pressed firmly behind her head, nestled in her
raven hair.
“Hands down,” he said as he came to stand before her again.
Obediently she dropped her hands, holding his gaze with her green-flecked brown
eyes. “How does that feel, does it hurt?”
She shook her head, knowing full well she’d sound silly if she tried to talk.
“Can you talk?” he asked her with a pert little smile of his own.
Again she shook her head, mumped something that at least sounded like no.
He chuckled and chucked her under the chin. “So you still want to go first?”
Twinkle in her eye, she nodded.
“I bet you do,” he said musingly, “I’ll just bet you do. However since you’ve
clearly got a little complex that needs to be worked out of you, you can go last.”
Her eyes widened in mock surprise, complex? Moi? She batted her eyelashes again as
she tossed a hip. He chuckled and went on, “Now go stand with your face in the corner.” He
pointed at one far corner of the room with his paddle.
She sighed, turning she went over to the corner and stood facing it.
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