The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

That night Lydia dreamt that she was back in high school, or at least she found herself dressed in her old school uniform, complete with stiff cotton blouse, plaid skirt and crested blazer, knee socks and patent leather flats. She was alone, walking down a long corridor, with a growing sense of dread at each step she took. She was on her way to the principal’s office. And when she opened the door, she found, sitting behind the principal’s desk in a handsome, three-piece suit, none other than—Marcus Wolfe! The man just sat there, glaring at her, his bearded lips drawn in a stern, tight line. Lydia knew instantly she was in trouble.

A high stool had been placed just to one side of the desk, and now, without a word, Mr. Wolfe rose to his feet and took his place on the elevated stool. Looking down at her from his commanding height, he silently beckoned the girl to him. It was then the full force of the realization hit her: she was about to get spanked!

She started to protest in dismay, explaining that it was all a mistake. She was, after all, a fully grown woman! But Wolfe pointed out with the logic of the dream, that: if she was a mature woman, what was she doing in the school wearing a school girl’s uniform, and one with such a shockingly short skirt at that? She looked down at herself, embarrassed to find it was true. The hem of the kilt-like skirt rode halfway up her robust thighs. She had been caught; she felt the shame of guilt. For parading around so shamelessly, she would certainly have to be punished!

Again, he beckoned her to him, this time with an impatient scowl creasing his high brow. The full-figured, dark-haired woman moved forward to present herself to her disapproving principal, hands clasped behind her back, her head hung low, eyes on the floor, awaiting his judgment. He spoke an order, and she knew what to do: the routine, a familiar ritual—to prepare oneself for spanking. She removed her navy blue jacket, carefully folded it; set it aside. And then her fingers went to her hair to undo the upswept chignon, and let the mass of soft dark hair, tinged with gray, fall to her shoulders with a shake of her head. Looking down at her feet, she watched her patent leather shoes as they took take the final two steps that brought her to the seated man.

He urged her up; the big woman came to him, and then obediently lowered herself down over his expensively trousered thighs, wiggling into place till she lay fully extended across the man’s lap. And there she waited tensely, head hanging down one side, hair fallen down around her face, her loins slightly elevated, so that her bottom was raised over his knees, while her stockinged legs angled down the other side, with the toes of her shoes barely touching the floor.

She realized, with a flush of deep humiliation, that she, a grown woman, was now placed over a man’s lap, offering up her bottom for a severe spanking. The full realization thrilled her to the core! Electrified by a deliciously wicked thrill, she couldn’t help wiggling her hips, squirming with impatience.

The seated man gazed down on that skirted feminine bottom, smiled to see that tiny wiggle, and the way the brief skirt barely covered that prominent rearend, leaving bare the back of her knees and the plump thighs. He placed a hand on the small of her back and ran it slowly up the rounded contour to give her a light pat on the rump. Lydia tensed at the first touch of his hand on her butt. She felt him open his thighs a bit more, shifting her dead weight. Then, her skirt being raised up the back of her legs!

She was shifted again. He reached under her so that the little skirt could be rucked up all the way, and he left it bunched up around her waist, uncovering a pair of thin, white, tightly-packed panties, that couldn’t quite contain the twin bulges of that stalwart, womanly ass. He noted the way the smiling undercurves had escaped the elastic legbands. He took a moment to savor the magnificent sight: The woman’s hips were wide, her bottom was high and round, the thin seat of the panties pulled taut over the twin contours; the rearcrack dimly visible though the sheer white fabric. He couldn’t help smiling down at Lydia Wyngate’s substantial bottom, served up so nicely for his pleasure. And he was fully prepared to take his pleasure there, to savor the thrill of punishing that big ass of her, for all transgressions, real and imagined.

He brought up a hand to lay it gently on her pantied bottom, splaying his fingers, pressing to test the resiliency of those chubby cheeks through the thin silk of Lydia’s panties. The woman’s cheeks clenched in instinctive reaction, and his smile widened. Principal Wolfe spent a moment rubbing the thin nylon all over the wobbly mounds with his fingertips, fondling and squeezing, playing with Lydia’s delightful ass. Then, when she started responding to this shameless masculine caress, squirming in sensual delight, he abruptly stopped what he was doing, and reached for her underpants. Clasping her sturdy hips with both hands, he curled his fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged her briefs down.

She heard his voice.

“Now let’s get those panties down, young lady.”

Her underpants were taken down, baring her naked bottom to the man’s hungry gaze.

Wolfe seemed in no hurry now. He left the panties twisted around her legs, just above the knees and he sat there, studying what he had uncovered: that fat, meaty ass, the darkly-furred vulva peeking out from between stout, fleshy thighs. Now, he let his hand rest lightly on that newly-bared rump with a proprietory air. Her relished the feel of her: the silken smoothness of those lush curves. He affectionately patted that upturned bottom, and when the chubby cheeks clenched in involuntary defense, he couldn’t help smiling to himself. She was fearful of what was to come. That was good. He would let her apprehension build while he enjoyed himself playing with Lydia Wyngate’s substantial bottom.

Cupping a hand, he lovingly caressed those fleshy mounds, admiring their spongy bounce, the satiny smoothness of the rounded contours, the deep division between the cheeks. As he lovingly rubbed and massaged her rearend, the tense woman stirred with growing agitation. Laid out across his lap in the humiliating position of a naughty schoolgirl, feeling the dreamy caress of his firm masculine hand on her naked butt, Lydia could not keep still.

He paused to arrange the big woman over his knee, lifting his right heel a bit, so that her bottom was arched higher and her thighs were slightly parted. His left hand came up to be placed on her lower back, pinning her firmly in place, as he raised his right hand up high. And when he brought his flattened hand down it was with a crisp authority, delivering a glancing smack that sent her bouncy mounds wobbling.

WHAP!WHAP!WHAP!..WHAP!

He was spanking her hard and quick, while Lydia yelped, threw back her head, and kicked her heels furiously. He pressed down harder, determined to hold the writhing girl steady, over his lap. In spite of her shrieking and pleading, he would give her no mercy, slapping her big ass with glancing slaps that sent the wobbly cheeks dancing.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

A smile curled the man’s lips as he watched those chubby mounds flatten and rebound under his repeated slaps, thoroughly enjoying their springy resiliency. After the first few smacks, Lydia tensed up, raising her head and shoulders and holding her legs in a rigid straight line, while she tightened her cowering cheeks in anticipation of each slap. But nothing she could do would lessen the terrible force of that methodical walloping, and soon she gave up even this feeble resistance, and lay passive, determined to endure what she must.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

The resounding echoes of his hand striking the mounds of quivering flesh mingled with her sharp yelps. For Lydia, the severe spanking seemed to go and on. When at last he finally stopped, his aching palm was tingling, and he was breathing hard.

He studied that freshly-spanked bottom, the twin domes blazing angrily with a bright scarlet tinge. She flinched when he laid a cupped hand on her tenderized bottom, and got from her a little moan. She waited fearfully, but this time his only intention was only to let his hand rest there, lightly cupping one cheek, feeling the heat he had generated there, the radiating warmth of Lydia Wyngate’s well-punished, big, womanly behind.

And Lydia lay there panting, totally aware of the dull throbbing in her ass, and something else—a curious tingling between her legs. She realized she was wet down there, and a shiver of lust ran through her. She felt as if she had to pee.

He helped her up and she stood before him, woozy, with tearful eyes, weak with relief, damp with sweat, her thighs slick and trembling, half-masted panties still binding her knees. She was acutely aware of the wetness on her thighs, and her cheeks burned with humiliation.

She couldn’t help reaching back to rub her sore bottom as she stood before him with head hung low. Now Principal Wolfe pointed to the corner and the big woman turned and obediently shuffled off, walking comically, still hobbled by the panties she was not allowed to hitch up, to take the mandated place with nose pressed to the corner, He had her stand at attention and place her hands on her head. By this time the slovenly panties had dropped down her legs to ring her ankles as she stood there, her freshly-chastised ass on prominent display, humiliated, yet aware of the building lust in her loins.

The vividness of the dream woke her, and she plunged her hands into the slippery heat between her legs, rubbing frantically till, in just a few seconds, she was wracked by the explosion of a massive orgasm.