Here’s something you don’t see described very often: a punitive breast spanking, from a book called “The Institute” as excerpted at A Taste Of The Birch:
“This filthy little bitch is a thief,” she proclaimed, standing the girl up to face her classmates, “and like all bad girls she has to be punished again and again!”
“Please, I’m sorry-” the girl whimpered, squirming nervously.
“Unbutton your shirt!” Mistress Shirer commanded brutally.
The girl started to undo the buttons but her hands were shaking and unable to grip the buttons properly. Mistress Shirer pulled the shirt open impatiently, ripping the buttons off. The girl tried to shrink back, attempting to hide her naked breasts but Mistress Shirer tugged the girl’s hair to make her stand properly. The girl winced and stuck her chest out, displaying the fullness of her firm breasts to all the other girls.
“Cup your breasts,” Mistress Shirer commanded and the girl obeyed, cupping her large breasts and raising them up, accentuating the swell of her flesh. The girl’s face was blushing deep red with shame, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
The first blow startled Lucy, who had become lost in the contemplation of the beautiful raised breasts bathed in the bright sunlight that streamed through the windows. Mistress Shirer began to lay hard sharp slaps on the naked ripe fruit held out to her, the loud slap of flesh on flesh beating out a rhythm of painful punishment. The soft white breast skin was flawed with a deep crimson tan, the impression of Mistress Shirer’s fingers clearly marked for all to see. The girl closed her eyes and bit deeply into her lip. Her chest was burning and stinging, the regular strokes on her breasts painfully sharp.
Mistress Shirer varied her strokes, ensuring that each breast was spanked in turn, and also spreading the strokes over each breast so that the girl’s flesh was an even colour throughout. She paid attention to the nipples, landing several blows directly on each, so that the nipples stood out sharply and glowed a deeper colour than the surrounding flesh.
“Thank you Mistress,” the girl whispered when the breast spanking was finished. Her chest was patterned with deep red finger marks on a carpet of smooth pink tan. Her chest seemed to be aflame, the smarting concentrated in the tight sensitive buds of the nipples, sending confused messages to the rest of her body.
“Let the girls see how you are marked,” Mistress Shirer ordered.
The girl uncupped the two punished breasts and put her hands on her head, elbows parallel to her shoulders so that her breasts were displayed to the best advantage. The flesh on the underside was still milky white, but it merged gradually with the scarlet finger marked flesh where Mistress Shirer’s expert hand had chastised her. The dark reddish brown nipples were hard little buttons, provocatively erect, aching for relief from the smarting ache that covered them.
The punished girl kept her eyes averted but held herself up, pressing her breasts higher. She glanced up at the other girls, trying to look defiant, but the blushes of shame were clear to see.
“Now bend over the punishment desk,” Mistress Shirer ordered the girl.