chrissy
                        Chrissy

Christine Brennan lay face down on the narrow bed, her eyes
squeezed shut, her head turned to one side, the back of one hand
pressed against her mouth.  Chrissy was naked; her long shapely
legs were pressed tightly together; her body was trembling.  
Across her perfectly rounded buttocks an angry red weal showed
where Martin Wolfe had just struck her with his belt.

Now, Wolfe gently trailed the belt from Chrissy's feet to
her rear, stroking, teasing.  Suddenly he raised his arm and
brought the leather strap down with all his might.  The young
girl's body jerked; a cry of pain escaped her lips.  A second red
stripe appeared on the smooth globes of her behind.

"Do you like your punishment?" Wolfe asked.  "I hate to do
this to you, Christine, but you must be punished."  Slowly,
gently, he stroked the girl's legs once more.  And again he
raised the strap and brought it slashing down.  

By the fifth blow, the girl was flinching in anticipation,
tensing her haunches and arcing her back, dreading the blow that
was to come.  By the seventh, she was crying out aloud each time
the leather bit into her flesh.  By the tenth, she was sobbing
uncontrollably and pleading for Wolfe to stop.  At last, his arm
tired and he dropped the belt to the floor.

It had been a spring afternoon of such sunlit promise;
Chrissy had finished her classes and gone to softball practice. 
Afterwards, showering, she had dayİdreamed of her coming meeting
with David.  How much she loved him, she had thought, how happy
they were together.  Just thinking of the hour ahead with him
made her dampen.

Chrissy and David had been lovers for only a few weeks,
hesitantly and tenderly exploring each other's bodies, gradually
learning what pleased and what didn't, how to give pleasure and
take it in return.  They had begun to talk of the summer ahead,
making plans to be together whenever they could.  

After her shower, her short blonde hair still damp, Chrissy
hurried across the campus of the small, private school she and
David attended, heading for the infirmary which, they had 
discovered, was deserted in the late afternoon.  There, they 
had made love for the first time; there, they would make love 
today.

The door to the infirmary was ajar when Chrissy arrived. 
She hurried in to meet her lover but stopped abruptly when she
saw Martin Wolfe leaning against the receptionist's desk, his
arms folded across his chest, his expression grave.

"Oh," she said, flustered.  "Mr. Wolfe.  I didn't...I mean..."

"I'm afraid David won't be coming to meet you this after­noon," 
Wolfe said.  "But you and I will have a little talk, Christine."

Wolfe smiled, but Chrissy was not reassured.  No one knew
quite what Wolfe's position was at the school; something in
administration, it was thought.  But his chill manner and 
unsmiling face invited little companionship.  The students 
avoided him; the faculty saw him only professionally.

"What do you mean, 'a little talk'?" Chrissy asked.

"Why, we have to talk about you and David, and your parents,
and the school, and what your punishment is going to be," Wolfe
replied.  "You see, Christine, what you and David have been doing
violates the school rules and your parents' teaching.  You are
only 16, my dear.  Your father is a minister, for Heaven's sake. 

"But," he added, "I think we can straighten this out between
ourselves, don't you?"

Chrissy felt weak; her belly churned.  She felt as though
she might throw up.  How could he know?  What was he going to do? 
Her mind reeled with the shame.  Her parents couldn't find out.

"You have no right to punish me!" she said bravely.

"Of course not," Wolfe agreed.  "But the alternative is notification 
of your parents and expulsion from school.  Certain­ly disgrace for 
you and your family.  And David's.  Is that what you want?"

"What are you going to do?" Chrissy asked.  She was growing
very frightened.  Her voice quavered.

"Why, only what you and David have been doing," Wolfe said. 
"You certainly seem to enjoy it.  And you make such interesting
sounds."  Wolfe smirked.  He was clearly enjoying the young
girl's fear.

Chrissy's cheeks flamed.  He had spied on them!  Then she
thought, in horror, he wants me to make love to him.  I can't.  I
won't.  Oh, David, she thought, help me.  Please help me.  

"I won't," she said. "You can't make me.  I'll tell Dean Malcolm.
I'll tell my father."

But she knew she wouldn't, knew she couldn't.  Her father
was pastor of a large ministry; she couldn't tell him what she
had done.  And what Wolfe had said was true; the school's rules
were very strict and Dean Malcolm would have no choice but to
expel her, despite his friendship with her parents.

"Now Christine, it will be all right," Wolfe said.  "After
all, you're not a virgin.  It's a small price to pay for my
silence."

"I'm leaving here, right now," Chrissy said, her voice small
and thin, her breasts heaving against her thin blouse.

Wolfe's face grew red.  "You're going nowhere, you pretty
little bitch.  If you leave, you're leaving with me and we're
going to see the dean together.  And if you don't want that,
you'll do just what I tell you."

Chrissy looked at Wolfe, at his lean, cruel face.  This man
means it, she thought.  What can I do?

Wolfe crossed the room and closed and locked the infirmary
door.  "Come over here," he said, moving to the bed.

Slowly, almost as though she were sleepwalking, Chrissy
walked over to where Wolfe stood.  She stood numbly as he 
unbuttoned her blouse.  "Please." she whispered.  "Please don't." 
Wolfe ignored the girl.  He unsnapped her bra, freeing her firm
young breasts.  She trembled as he drew the blouse and bra from
her shoulders and threw them onto a chair.  Chrissy closed her
eyes as he opened the buttons on her shorts and dropped them to
the floor.  She felt terribly alone and helpless as he hooked his
thumbs in the elastic band of her panties and eased them over her
rounded hips.  

Suddenly, Wolfe grabbed the unresisting girl by the arm and
shoved her onto the bed.  He turned Chrissy's unresisting body
face down, eyeing her perfect buttocks with anticipation. 
Impatiently, Wolfe pulled off his belt, doubled it, and slashed
it across the girl's rear.  And stroked and slashed until she was
moaning and sobbing on the bed.

Now, Wolfe reached down and rolled Chrissy onto her back. 
Instinctively, she reached one hand down to cover herself, drew
an arm across her breasts.  Her eyes remained closed, but she
knew from the sounds that Wolfe was removing his clothes.

The man paused before getting onto the bed, savoring the
picture the young girl made.  At 16, Chrissy was just becoming a
woman.  Her hips curved delightfully; her breasts were full and
firm, jutting up even as she lay.  The down at her cleft was pale
and silky, and the lips of her vagina were fresh and pink.

Chrissy felt Wolfe's weight on the bed.  She felt his hand
on one breast, his mouth on the other.  Slowly, with fingers and
lips, he brought her flesh to life; her nipples stiffened as
excitement flowed out through them.  She realized that her crotch
was soaking wet.  This can't be happening, she thought.

The girl felt Wolfe thrust into her roughly, then begin to
move in and out with increasing ease.  Her mind resisted, but her
body began to respond.  Her lips parted, and her hips started to
twitch.  Gradually, her muscles slipped into a series of contractions 
that grew more and more urgent.  She began to moan deep in her throat.
Her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow.  Her body was on fire.

Suddenly giving way entirely to sensation, Chrissy drew up
her knees and spread her legs wide, letting Wolfe plunge more
deeply into her.  Her arms reached around the man's muscular body
and she gripped his buttocks, clutching him tightly to her.  She
began bucking beneath him, humping and thrusting up fiercely in
time with his lunges.

"Oh, yes!" she cried.  "Oh, God!   Yes!  Jesus!  Sweet Jesus!  
I'm coming!  Ohmigod!  I'm coming!"

The girl's back arched as her orgasm burst through her
shuddering body.  She tried to lie back, but Wolfe's thrusts
continued.  Quickly he brought the girl back to the brink, her
gasps frantic as she fought for air.  

"Please.  I can't stand any more," she said.  "Please!  Oh,
God!  Oh, God, YES!.  Oh, yes.  Oh, Yes.  Oh, please, yes!  I'm
coming.  I'm coming."

As Chrissy arched up again, Wolfe plunged a finger deep into
the girl's anus.  She shrieked, and bucked wildly beneath him as
a tremendous orgasm exploded in her body.  At the same moment,
she felt Wolfe flood her with his pentİup juices.  

Dazed, her mind reeling, Chrissy fell back on the bed, her
body trembling.  Wolfe rolled off her and lay by her side for a
moment.  He raised his body on one arm and looked at the quivering 
girl.  Her crotch was soaked with their juices, the silky
blond hair matted and tangled.  Her eyes were closed and her
hands clutched at the sheets.  Her breathing was ragged and
harsh; the fury of her orgasms had left her spent.

"That was quite good for a beginning, Christine," Wolfe
said.  "Now we'll make plans for tomorrow."

The man got to his feet and began dressing.  "I'll expect
you right after your softball practice," he said, and we'll do
some practicing of our own."  Wolfe eyed the girl appreciatively. 
She really was going to turn out quite good, he thought.  He
turned, crossed the room, unlocked the door, and left.

Tears trickled down Chrissy's face; she felt a vast shame. 
Yet Wolfe had given her pleasures she had never dreamed existed. 
Her body had been excited as never before.  Without consciously
thinking of what she was doing she began gently to explore the
lips of her vagina, pushing a finger into the slick, warm, damp
chamber.  She remembered the sensations Wolfe had evoked. 
Gradually, she began stroking herself.  She felt very warm.  Her
knees drew up and she began moving her hand faster and faster.  

Chrissy's breathing grew rapid and shallow.  Soft moans came
from her throat.  She felt her excitement reaching a peak and
rubbed harder and faster.  Suddenly she cried out; her back
arched once more and she bucked with pleasure as her orgasm swept
through her body.  She lay back, trembling and panting, her
fingers still inside her streaming cunt.  

When the trembling stopped, Chrissie got off the bed and
began gathering her clothes together.  Her mind refused to
consider her plight.  She numbly went through the motions of
dressing and leaving the little room.  But as she crossed the now
darkening campus towards her dormitory, she felt bewildered and
forlorn.  What am I going to do? she wondered.  Oh, David, what
am I going to do?