Little_Rabbit_DLessons_for_a_little_one

Lessons for a little one (Fantasy)

Panting i ran into the old classroom stumbling across the threshway nearly collapsing face first. Before i had any chance to regain composure our eyes met. Or more correctly i looked across the room to meet an the stern raised eyebrow and stern expression adorning the beautiful face of Miss Suzanna Maxwell. Without a second delay i found myself falling onto my knees before Her, my quivering lips gently caressing Her soft skin peeping out of the unmistakable black louboutins. My lips continued to desperately search Her delicate tattooed skin for sympathy but MIss Suzanna had yet to move a muscle, Her legs still crossed as She elegantly graced the oak desk, the desk i was meant to be sitting at 10 minutes ago. Sitting back on my knees i found myself in awe of my Queen, Her regal beauty so perfectly poised in a pantsuit and silken white blouse, curly golden locks in a bun, red lips pursed and those unforgettable piercing blue eyes starring down into my soul with bewitching frustrations. Just as i was becoming comfortable in the silence of my penance i was sharply reminded of the moment as Miss Suzanna’s hand connected with my right cheek with such force i forgot oxygen was a requirement as i fell onto my shaking hands.

“You’re late little one”

An ominous tranquility overcame the room as every inch of oak and stone silenced itself in preparation for the depravity that was to commence. No more words were needed. The four syllables cut through like a lion claw into its prey. No mercy, no nonsense, just mean truths. Stuttering i begged Her to understand, it wasn’t that i didn’t appreciate Her Latin lessons or that i wasn’t taking my education seriously. I love being at Maxwell academy, i love being Miss Suzanna’ submissive student… i just forgot how quickly time passes when riding a horse. Miss had only been waiting 20 minutes, surely She couldn’t be that mad.

My naivety was abruptly corrected. Not only were my excuses met by an increasingly unappreciative and irritated Miss Suzanna but Her long talons tapping against the wood removed any last bravery or sounds i had in me.

“I have told you far too many times little one about your tardiness. Far too many. You will take your punishment like a good girl and you will never be late for one of my lessons or anything in life ever again! No excuses!”

Miss didn’t need to raise Her voice, Testing glimmers seized Her face daring me to argue as Her focused glare bore through me leaving my little self desperate to break into tears and unable to hold Her gaze. Elegantly dismounting from the desk and onto my chair that lay in wait, Miss simply instructed me to stand. Before i had chance to speak my bottoms and panties were pulled down to my ankles and Her captivating voice advised me to remove all my clothing in such a simple matter there was little i could do than meekly comply. Once standing vulnerable and shy before my Queen i was dragged clumsily over Her knee. My long legs struggling to find footing as i fell with little grace and found myself trapped by this petite yet powerful Lioness. Captured prey completely at the mercy of her sadistic predator. My blushing skin rubbed against Miss’ soft trousers as i winced from the first sharp hit. It wasn’t Her hand, it felt sharp and stingy like a collective of bee stings all attacking at once. My bottom tensed with each hard hit, each sting leaving me feeling stickier and stickier as i wiggled on Miss Suzanna’ lap eagerly trying to find comfort on Her knees. My little moans of painful pleasure whispered around the room as i was held firmly still by 5 sharp nails in my side. No where to run and no where to hide, my body once again surrendered to Miss, relaxing into the strikes and allowing my mind to be lost into the euphoric wonderland of endorphins and embarrassment. The humiliation of being over Miss’ knees, naked and held still whilst my punishment was inflicted was often interrupted by the ticklish trickling of stickiness down my sides that almost resembled the mess between my thighs. The unrelenting stings regulated in a monotonous pattern that i was able to breathe too… like a punishment song to help me stay brave and push through. Stinging had become burning as whatever was being used sliced through my skin like blunt knives spreading my paint across the room. My wincing and whines were met with cruel cackles as Miss revelled in Her sadism, only ever taking a break to feel how Her presence forced the wetness to grow, run Her angelic fingers along the stickiness dripping from my lips all down my shaking legs and providing temporary relief to my afflicted bottom.

That same sticky hand wrapped around my hair pulling my eyes to meet Her glistening gaze, absent of all empathy. The monochrome of pain adorning my skin was relieved by the tortmenting smile that perfected Miss’ face. Her evident pleasure appeasing my nerves as i longingly gazed up at the most spectacular woman i have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Nothing else mattered but Her happiness, Her smile, Her pleasure.

Then She threw me to the floor by my hair in a bloody heap.

A nefarious twinkle alighted Her eyes as i gazed up bewildered at the cruel injustice. Desperate to curl up and feel Her touch, to be cared for and safe in Her arms, but my punishment had merely begun. Miss Suzanna stood tall and proud, Her satin blouse stained with my blood as more dripped from the spiked paddle She still firmly held. I had no facetious remarks left, no cheeky comments, i could merely kneel in awe of the Goddess i have the pleasure of serving.

The depravity was far from over, Miss boldly announced i was to have my hands caned 31 times. My immediately quivering hands struggled to raise themselves to offer my Queen what She desired, the internal struggle to deny my instincts and instead obey my Sadist cursed through me until i forced strength from Her delicately powerful voice, laying my hands upon the bloody splattered desk. The first harsh strike left a shriek echoing around the small classroom as i called out no one. My quiet bubble of pleasurable pain popped and collapsed with each agonising strike that left my delicate skin shaking more and more with every blow. Despite counting each cruel swipe of the cane the torture seemed never ending. My agony extending past my palms with each kiss of the cane forcing my head down and every muscle in my shoulders and back to contract and arched as i struggled to find air. Whimpering and struggling to find the bravery i found my lips begging Mistress, uttering words of apology in a desperate attempt to end my malicious predicament.

“Now bunny, you were late of your own volition and as such you shall remain still of your own accord. You will do this for me my precious little bunny so that i know you are truly sorry.”

The soft words of this cruel temptress sent vibrations of bravery and calm through my spine. Her nails carving an S into my naked back as i knelt helpless to my fate and desperate to make Miss proud. There were only 13 left, 13 nastly little hits, 13 unbearable stings that i would bear. Despite my forearms aching and entire body gently shaking as my adrenaline peaked i managed to utter the magic words that would once more start my trials

“Yes Miss, anything for You MIss”.

Once the convolutions of my scorching muscles rested in an ambiguous silence of i finally managed to look at the trauma that had been enforced onto my hands. A large red patch encased my palms but otherwise nothing. No pride to bear from the horrific torture, no marks to remind me of my bravery. Nothing but the ongoing muscle cramps and unforgettable sensations that burned through every nerve from the tips of my fingers to my collar bones. Miss Suzanna has a penchant and talent for finding one’s weakness, for finding true pleasure but also knowing true pain when necessary, in every willing victim; even a masochist.

The blood on my bottom had long dried and an uncomfortable crusty substance now glazed my skin as i found myself finally sitting at my desk as i should have been at 9am. I sat fidgeting on the chair, the warm comforting burn of skin attempting to heal contrasting the cold, hard surface; providing an ongoing reminder of how i had made Miss Suzanna wait and impertinently expected no real correction for such a travesty. Gracefully gliding across the shining wooden floor with fountain pen and paper in her long delicate fingers. Her enchanting voice seduced the room and captivated my attention once more as i gazed up at Her elegant beauty, temporarily forgetting the trouble i was in.

“Now little one, you will write ‘I will not spill my blood on Miss Suzanna’ 131 times in your neatest handwriting. Are we understood.”

Too enchanted by Her perfection i couldn’t muster another cheeky response, my mind, body and soul Her endless playground to tease and torment as She sees fit. Removing my teeth from my lips i muttered a soft Yes Miss and accepted the beautiful rose gold parker ready with no complaint or question. The predicament appeared vitriolic in its wholly unjust nature and lacking representation of my crime but it wasn’t my place to question. If Miss Suzanna felt this is how i needed to learn my lesson then that was all that mattered and i would be a good girl and learn. My burning right palm greeted the ice cold metal wincingly whilst my left continued hiding in my lap, hiding as though that would protect it. So the lines began.

The minutes washed by like hours, each wave an eternity in itself, each line a lifetime of agony. my latin lesson was only intended to last an hour but that was long gone, Miss clearly deemed this less too important to place time restraints upon. With each torturous line i found myself counting down how many i had left, 94, 53, 31 and yet it seemed never ending. No matter how low the number got it still wasn’t low enough, the pain uncontrollable and increasing at an exponential rate with each ink letter that stained the crisp white paper. Classical music broken up by the continuous tapping of red soles connecting with the cold wooden surface provided little comfort as my nerves remained on end. Uncomfortably naked, still stinging and sat upright on a hard oak chair as Miss impatiently gazed upon Her victim and savoured my pain like a delicacy.

“Domina placere, ultra. Manun meam doleat

Please Miss, no more MIss please, I have cramp and it hurts”

i begged, tears reaching the corners of my eyes and lips preparing to pout. The pain had become unbearable and unrelenting. If i could not see my hands i would believe Miss Suzanna had carved them open with a blunt knife. My whines and begging were not met with empathy as i watched the familiar eyebrow raise with malicious intent upon Her perfect angelic face.

“Pain breeds performance My precious bunny, I very much doubt you’ll lose track of time again or make me wait will you? If you keep complaining i will simply add more lines. My bunny must learn to own her errors and take her punishment like a lady.”

My heart sunk in disappointment, whining was not my intent but the monotonous ache with each line written only grew greater and with no known end i could feel my impertinence draining, no longer able to fight or complain. Silently i continued the repetitive torture, the skin on my palms burning as though they had been branded. An ongoing reminder of my remorse, my callous time keeping that had led to this moment. As the final line reached completion Her soft hand rested upon my tired shoulders, nails tapping into my soul as i felt Miss’s glare scan the 131st line for imperfection. Nervous anticipation overcame my body as i struggled to look anywhere but the page, silently praying to Miss that they would satisfy Her sadistic nature. Desperately hoping my hands could finally find rest. Before my little space had taken over and my body had forced itself upon Miss for naps and scratches, i found myself being once again dragged by my right wrist to the corner of the room where the acupuncture mat awaited. Perhaps i was too engrossed in lines to notice Miss preparing the third part of Her trio of torture. Mouth open and eyes darting no words were needed, i knew what was coming. Soft alluring whispers coaxed me onto my knees, digging my flesh into the spikes, holding me on my knees once again for my Queen. The tears i had been holding back, the stinging liquid that had been filling my eyes on the course of the afternoon could not be retained any longer. In waiting position i silently coated my skin in salt water, head bowed and remorseful of my tardiness. An ancient forgotten language had become by present torment. Hushed moans and muffled squeaks gently escaped my mouth with each minute, each sharp point digging deeper into my knees. Each second another painful reminder of my poor behaviour. Miss Suzanna had been very clear, i was to wait 31 minutes in silence whilst She prepared Herself with tea and tidied up in preparation for my piano lesson. If the pain were not torment enough, the distinct sound of a paper shredder echoed in the room as my lines were wiped from existence, as my punishment was wiped clean and ready for a new day and i could sense Miss’s predatory gaze study my quiet serenity fuelled state, hopefully satisfied with the artistic lesson that had been enforced.

31 minutes passed far quicker than expected (I have suspicions that it was only 13) but i soon found myself back home, curled up in the loving arms of Miss, softly shedding tears in my peaceful happy place. The only sounds being my euphoric purring and Miss sipping warm tea.