Rick and Linda: Pfeiffer Hill

I made a quick decision. I knew there was no way she could take 16 with that switch, especially not on her bare, very sensitive and sore butt. I needed to make that plain to her, as well.

"You know," I said, reaching under her arms and lifting her to her feet, "I don't think you can make an informed decision unless you know exactly what that switch feels like. Come over here."

I pulled her by the hand to another spot that was illuminated with an even larger shaft of moonlight. There were no trees by this spot to block anyone's view from any direction. It was almost like a spotlight on a stage. The visible slice of road was straight in front of her about 25 feet away. The windows of Pfeiffer Hall were directly behind her about 100 yards away. She clapped her hands over her breasts and pubic mound.

"Bend over at the waist," I ordered from my position behind her, after stuffing my erection back in my pants.

She did, but, with no tree to lean against, doing so forced her to spread her legs far apart to keep from falling over, and she began again to sniffle in humiliation.

Stretched as they were, the muscles of her legs and butt looked taut and powerful. Although she was not a very athletic girl in reality, she appeared to be one in this position. Somehow, seeing this muscular power bending to my commands was intoxicatingly erotic, and I had to resist the temptation to tear off my pants and take her from behind at that instant.

Her ass was open so wide that I could see the little pucker of her anus. She knew this, too, because could feel the night Iowa air on it. Below that I could see the fingers of the hand that was covering her mons. And her butt, well, it practically glowed pinkly in the moonlight. Is "pinkly" a word? No? Well it should be, because that's the only way to describe it: it was shining pinkly.

"Put your hands on your knees, Linda," I instructed.

Still bent at the waist, she slowly moved her right arm off of her breasts while glancing at the road in front of her. She placed the hand on her right knee. Then she glanced back over her shoulder at the looming building and its windows. With a sob of resignation, she moved her left hand off of her mound and placed it on her left knee. From behind, as she well knew, I could see the lips of her vagina protruding through forest on her pubis. What she didn't know is that in the moonlight, her mons glistened with moisture.

"Arch your back, Linda," I said.

As she did this, she immediately realized that doing so not only made her butt stick out higher and farther, but it also opened her ass crack and her vaginal lips even wider. She gave another small sob and hung her head.

"Now, Linda, tell me what's going to happen next. Take your time and give me a complete answer. I think you know by now how I like you to answer."

Several long seconds ticked by before she finally began.

"Y- You are going to ... [sob] ... sw- switch me because ... uh ... I broke my promise not to hesitate to obey you as you uh ... [sniffle] ... punished me for my obnoxious behavior tonight. I earned ... um ... 16 whips on my bare um ... stretched rear end. I will be ... [choke] ... completely nude as you whip me and, uh, for your convenience in giving me this punishment that I have earned, I will be ... [sob] ... bent over with my back arched, offering my bottom to you for discipline."

"Excellent, Linda; but I have some other questions," I added to her surprise. "First, tell me what I would feel if I put my hand on your pubic mound right now."

"Um, you would feel, um ...," she was trying to figure out what I was driving at, "... you would feel my pubic hair."

"That's not what I mean, Linda," I said patiently. "Would it feel dry or wet?"

"Oh, God," she whimpered and then she whispered something I could not hear.

"What was that again, Linda?"

"Wet," she gasped, just barely loud enough for me to hear.

"Answer with a sentence, Linda."

"You would find [sob] that my pubic mound is [sniffle] wet."

"Tell me why it is wet. Use a complete sentence."

"Because I'm all hot and ... I mean I'm sexually aroused."

"What aroused you?"

"Being spanked by you and, uh, ... other things," she whispered hoarsely.

"Arousal implies desire. Do you desire something, Linda? Tell me what you desire."

"I ... uh ... want you to ... uh ... have sex with me."

"Can you put that less clinically?"

"[choke] ... I want you to make love to me."

"That's better, but make it blunter."

"I want you to ... fuck me."

"How? Quickly and softly?

"No. I want you to fuck me hard and long."

"Missionary position or doggy style?"

"Doesn't matter."

"You mean later or right now?"

"Now."

"You just might get your wish. But put all that information together and restate it."

Linda said nothing for a long moment as she stood there, bent over, legs splayed obscenely. I heard her take a deep breath and she spoke.

"Your spanking has aroused me so that my pubis is wet and I want you to fuck me right now long and hard in any position that you want."

"I'll take that under advisement, Linda, but first let's get this switching done," I replied as I pulled the switch out of my belt.

Linda gritted her teeth.

I stood beside her and swung the switch out wide and low. Then I brought it forward and upward fast and hard right on the lower ridge of both cheeks. Swwwiiiifffffput!

Her upper body snapped straight up and her hands went straight to her bottom. Her back arched as her face, with a grimace of pain, pointed up to the sky and she exclaimed loudly.

"Owwwwwarrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!"

Although her legs were still stretched apart, her hips began to twist and buck as she frantically tried to rub away the pain. No question, this hurt a lot more than a hand spank.

I really didn't want to put her through any more switching. I loved her, after all, and I think that that nasty little switch pushed the pain past the point of any pleasure for her. But I had to be sure that her decision "Give blow job or get 15 more whips" was really a no-brainer. To that end, I decided to accentuate the humiliating aspects of the last few seconds.

"Wow, Linda. That was quite a show," I said in deliberately exaggerated approval. "Do you realize what a guy would have seen if he'd been walking along the road at that moment and looked up here?"

I then proceeded to answer my own question.

"He'd have seen a naked, sexy, blond apparition; breasts heaving, legs and pubis wantonly spread, back arched, and hips gyrating wildly and thrusting out at him. It looked as if you needed a fucking so badly that you could not even speak and had to use pantomime."

Her shoulders heaved and she let out a sob.

"And now you're going to put on that show again, 15 more times! Unless, of course ... ", I let my voice trail away.

She made her decision. At last, it was really a no-brainer. She straightened up from her spread stance, turned to me and knelt. Once, again, she opened my pants and retrieved my poll. I'd been erect so long at that point that my balls had begun to hurt.

"I'm not going to know what to do ...," she whispered.

"Don't worry, it's not rocket science. Just start licking and sucking. Close your eyes and think of it as something you need to study, but the only way you can learn about it is with your tongue and mouth. Oh, and, be careful with your teeth."

She took my advice, closed her eyes, and gave the head a tentative lick. Then she gave the top surface a longer one. Then, she licked the underside from base to barrelhead. Finally, eyes still closed, she opened her mouth and slid it over the head.

It wasn't, truth be told, a very good blow job, but it was her first time and she was diligent. Her tears had dried by the time I felt myself ready to blast, and I gently pushed her head away.

Baboon Style

"I believe you asked for a fucking a little while ago," I smiled, "long and hard as I recall. Am I remembering that right?"

She smiled back, "Yes ... I mean, yes Rick, I would like you to fuck-"

"Stop," I said, "you don't have to do the complete sentence thing anymore. But that pantomime idea intrigues me. Why don't you show me what you want without words?"

Laughing, she jumped up and pulled me to a soft grassy spot where she promptly lay down on her back, spread her legs, and used her hands to hold her knees out to the side and almost up to her armpits.

As I stripped off my clothes, I pretended not to understand.

"Let's see," I said, stroking my chin, "you're a frog and you're on your back and you can't get up. Is that it?"

She giggled and began gyrating her hips and thrusting them at me. But I'd been watching her bend over and arch her back all evening and that had put a different idea in my head. I knelt beside her and rolled her over onto her stomach.

"Now, show me," I said.

It took her a couple of seconds, but she got the idea. She got up on her knees, turned her back to me, and then bent forward and lay her cheek on the grass. She spread her knees as wide as they would go and arched her back. Her tail, still pink, pointed up at me and she wagged it back and forth. But this wasn't quite right, either.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. I pulled her back to the "spotlight" moonbeam where she'd taken the switch.

"As you were, before," I hinted.

In a moment, she understood and she again spread her legs as far apart as they would go, bent over, and placed her hands on her knees. I stood just behind her and she smiled back over her shoulder at me as she arched her back and began to wave her bottom back and forth at me.

I pushed my prick into her vagina. She was soaking.

We rutted like animals and, with each thrust, she gave a little breathy "uh." After a while, she bent her knees a little to give herself more leverage as she thrust back at me with surprising force.

Her eyes closed and her rhythmic 'uh ... uh ... uh' turned into a louder, more guttural "ung ... ung ... ung" and then, as she picked up speed, it merged into continuous sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt "unga-ah-unga-ah-unga-ah-unga-ah ... ". She was nearly delirious, past any care about the gap in the trees or the windows of the dorm. At this moment, you could have revealed an entire audience surrounding her, with her family in front row, and she would not have, could not have stopped.

When she reached climax I felt her legs give way and dropped to my knees and held her on me. I pumped until she came again, but this time she let me do all the work.

"Hmmm," she said after an hour's more of love making, as we lay in the grass exhausted, "I never enjoyed doggy style so much."

"That wasn't doggy style," I pointed out. "Dogs don't do it with the bitch up on her hind legs."

"You know, you're right," she said as sat up with a serious look, "It was really baboon style."

"Come again?"

"I remember this from primate studies class," she explained. "A baboon shows submission to a dominant baboon with a 'rump presentation.' The submissive one bends forward and raises his or her rump, which is pink or red on baboons, to the dominant. If the dominant is male and the submissive is female they mate in just the squatting position that we were in."

"Do you think the baboons find those rump presentations humiliating?" I asked.

"I don't know if they can feel human emotions like that," she said, "but the behavior does suggest that female submission to a controlling male is natural and normal primate behavior, and that presenting a rump is a standard primate way of signaling submission."

"Yeah," I added, "and it also shows that pink rumps are a turn on."