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Isabelle and Sharon had, as usual, taken a walk downtown during the lunch-break.
They were in a hurry back, since they had forgotten about time during their
chat in Mrs. Stratton's cofee shop. Isabelle's heels clicked on the pavement.
"Shit!, I have to change my shoes and stockings, also." Isabelle cursed.
"Yeah, we're going to have Ms. Everson on the history. You got a detention
last week." Sharon reminded.
"No more detentions, thank you, it's soo booring."
"Yes, and remember what happened to Lara."
"Yeah, she got the cane." Isabelle said.
The dress code of the St. Andrew's School permitted only shoes with heels no
higher than one inch, and socks no higher than up to the knee. Detentions were
fairly common, and they were very strict. Further, misdemeanours would often
result in a more severe punishment, usually a couple of rattan strokes to the
behind or the palms of the hands. The Andrew's School for Girls guaranteed to
"Make ladies out of girls" and the rules were distinct. Parents had to sign for
that they allowed corporal discipline.
Isabelle had changed to her black heels with about three inch heels, and black
pantyhose stockings for the walk.
"We're going to be late if you're going back to the room and change. We will
be in pretty bad trouble for that also." Sharon said.
"Yes, it's only four minutes left." The lecture started at one a clock.
"I bet you don't dare to have those shoes and stockings again?" Sharon
giggled.
"Ms. Everson is always kind to me, but still she gave me a detention. I can't
figure her out."
"Yeah, I've noticed, she's harsh to everyone else. I think she like your
stockings." Sharon teased.
"I bet she does, she's strange."
"Come on now, don't be yellow. She probably won't even notice, we sit in the
back. She saw you last time only because you had your presentation."
"Yeah, ok, we'll be late for sure otherwise." Isabelle reconsidered.
They just made it. The other girls in the class was entering the classroom and
they catched up among the last.
Ms. Everson was a rather attractive woman, in her thirties, with long blonde
hair. As she began the lecture, Heather Collins, a not so good friend of Isabelle
raised her hand, after having a glance at Isabelle.
"Yes, Heather, what is it this time?" Ms. Everson was irritated to be
interrupted.
"Miss, why is Isabelle allowed to wear pantyhose, when we others can't."
"No, Heather, she is not." Isabelle felt a wave of dread sweep over her.
"But, look at her then." Heather insisted.
"Stand up, Isabelle" Isabelle slowly rose to her feet.
"Isabelle, it is not the first time, this is on the carpet. Is it?"
"No miss." Isabelle swallowed hard.
"You know very well, the dress code. Doesn't it apply to you?" Ms. Everson
tone was still unpleasantly soft.
"Yes, but the other shoes are so ugly..." Isabelle tried but couldn't find a
way out.
"Come over here, to the desk, please, young lady." Oh no, this can only mean
one thing, Isabelle thought.
"So, you are a big girl now, and want to walk around in high heels, on tip
toes? Fine, I'll make sure, you walk on tip toes!" Ms. Everson's voice was still
soft but Isabelle sensed the menacing intentions.
"This is an excellent opportunity to keep up the old Asian traditions of the
school. Do you know how children are sometimes punished in China?"
"Nn...no miss."
"You will soon learn then. Take those shoes off, and put them on the desk!"
Isabelle obeyed. Ms. Everson fetched something from the cupboard. It was a
switch, about two feet long and quarter of an inch thick, made from rattan.
The classroom had now, an almost electric atmosphere, and Isabelle felt the fear
and embarrassment rise and tingle, inside her. This was too much, to be caned in
front of the class. She could see Heather giggle quietly, while wispering to her
classmate.
"Sit here on the desk, please" A bit confused, Isabelle, hesitantly sat down
on the desk.
"Hold up your right foot, grasp your right ankle with your right hand."
Isabelle obeyed, still confused.
"There, good. I will give you six strokes on the sole of each foot."
Oh no! She would be caned on the feet!, and twelve strokes! Normally there would
only be four strokes to the palm of the hands, and only one of the hands!
Isabelle felt like she was going melt by humiliation, but the tingling feeling in
her stomach wasn't completely unpleasant. Ms. Everson made a false stroke in the
air. The sound made Isabelle wince. Then, she took aim by pressing the cane
against Isabelle's pantyhose clad sole. Isabelle clenched her teeth together, in
anticipation. Ms. Everson brought her arm back. Isabelle closed her eyes.
It seemed to take several minutes, but the tingling feeling in the stomach
intensified...

WHAP!

I was almost a release, Isabelle gasped, but no cry escaped her lips. The cane
hit her sole, over the arch, just below the ball. The pain was stinging, but it
wasn't at all as bad as Isabelle had figured it would be. The tingling had her
stomach and crotch in a firm grip.
"Open your eyes, girl. Look at the cane!" Isabelle had forgotten for a moment,
that every eye in the class was focused on her poor foot, and even Heather,
looked scared. However, Isabelle didn't care about that now. She had never felt
like this before. The feeling in her stomach, and lower... Damn it felt good!

ShhhhWHAT!

The second stroke was harder, and a little lower on her sole. It really hurt, but
there was something good about the pain. Isabelle was beginning to feel a little
dizzy. Ms. Everson took aim again, lower, on the pad of Isabelle's heel.

SshhhhWHAP!

An even harder stroke. It was, actually, not the first time Ms. Everson let a
girl taste the rattan on the soles, but she was surprised by Isabelle's silence.
The previous girls had howled and yelped, at much lighter strokes. Isabelle
didn't even look very agonized, or pleading. She had expected Isabelle's tender,
sexy feet to be much more sensitive. Ms. Everson felt the warmth and softness as
she adjusted Isabelle's foot that had got slightly out of position. Ms. Everson
delivered three strokes in rapid succession

ShhWHAP! ShhWHAP! ShhWHAP! "Aaaaaaah"

Isabelle opened her mouth and moaned. It wasn't only the pain that made her moan,
but she couldn't control it. She felt unsteady. Something was building up
inside her...
"Left foot, please." Ms. Everson commanded. Isabelle heard, but was like
immobilized. The tingling made her clench her legs together.

SshhhhWHACK! "Owwww!"

The hardest stroke yet! Isabelle cried out from pain for the first time. her
rather squeaky voice, almost sounded funny.
"Switch to your left foot, girl!" Isabelle jumped on the desk.
"Y... yes, miss." Isabelle, shakily, held out her left foot.

ShhhhWHAT! "Aaaaah"

Another stroke fell. Isabelle had her mouth open and moaned, but the pain was
being subdued by waves of pleasure washing over her body. Several more strokes
fell, but they only felt like taps under her foot as she climaxed on the desk.
"Aaaaah, Aaaah, Aaaaaah, Aaaaaaaaaah" Isabelle moaned. Only the last stroke was
beginning to sting again. Isabelle remained in position, and as she opened her
eyes, she saw Ms. Everson was looking down her crotch, with a beginning of a
smile on her lips. Isabelle quickly lowered her leg.
"Well, have you learnt your lesson now?"
"Yes, miss." Isabelle sobbed, and wiped the tears that had formed in her eyes.
"Remove those stockings, and put them at your shoes. You are to walk barefoot,
until the end of the todays lectures!" Isabelle pulled off the stockings. Her
soles ached a bit and had also a little numb, tingly feeling, but they didn't
hurt particularly bad as she stepped down on the floor. She put the stockings in
her shoes.
"Back to your seat now, girl" Ms. Everson stroked her back gently, almost
lovingly. Isabelle, confused, walked back to her seat. Damn! she had an orgasm,
maybe the best she ever had. Isabelle felt a coolness from her wetted panties.
She avoided Heathers gloating eyes as she walked past her.
"Now, you all know what happens to feet who walk around in these. I hope I
don't have to see anymore of this." Ms. Everson pointed, with the cane, at
Isabelle's shoes on the desk. Isabelle sat down beside Sharon, who had a
concerned look on her face.
The lecture continued as normal, with some increased whispering activity,
however. Isabelle guessed her recently smacked feet was the main subject. It was
very unusual with a punishment in front of the class, and foot punishments was
something new, to everyones knowledge. Heather threw some glances in Isabelle's
direction, with a smile on her face. Sharon didn't dare whispering, but wrote a
note for Isabelle. "I'm really sorry, Bel. Does it still hurt bad?" Isabelle
wrote back that it wasn't that bad. The lecture ended, and as they were on their
way out, Ms. Everson called Isabelle back.
"Come to my office at four, please, we are to fill in the punishment book."
"Yes, miss." Isabelle didn't even dare asking, if she were to get her shoes,
back. Sharon and some other of the girls waited for her. They questioned her
about how it felt e.t.c. and expressed their concerns for her, and how they hated
the sadistic Ms. Everson. Isabelle answered she was ok.
Ms. Everson closed the door and stayed for a while in the classroom. She took
out Isabelle's stockings and felt the foot ends. Maybe they were a little moist.
She put them to her nose and inhaled deeply, possibly there was a little smell
also. She thought about the spot she had seen in the crotch of Isabelle's white
panties. She didn't think she had seen wrong, and Isabelle had really behaved
strangely. Hmmm... the little sweetheart likes a little pain.. She thought.

Ms. Everson had, as long as she could remember, liked young girls, and in
particular their soft tender feet. She, also, liked her own feet, and sometimes
played with them. In her later teens, she had also developed a liking for
sadomasochistic play, and she lowed to have the soles of her own feet treated,
something she missed badly, in this very small town. However, during her two
years as headmistress, at the St. Andrew's School, she had had quite some
opportunities to discipline teenage girls. Most of the times it had been
switchings on the behinds or hands, but in a few desirable instances, she had
been able to change the disciplinary target to the soles of the feet. Usually,
she tried to motivate the punishment, and make it sound like it fitted the crime,
like for example, running in the corridors. Sometimes, to calm worried parents,
she had used almost scientific motives for switching the feet. The pads, on soles
of the feet, were tough and made to walk on, and much less delicate than the
palms of the hands, for instance. Still they were very sensitive, but not as easy
to bruise as the behind, she explained.

There was also another thing. About the St Andrew's School. It was originally
founded, around 1850 in China, by a British Lord. At this time, the school was
for booth boys and girls, in separated detachments. 1904, the school was
transferred to Britain, but only the girl section remained. In 1936 a section was
started in the US. After the war the British section was closed down, because
there was very few pupils. The American part lived on, however, and became
famous in the fifties for it's methods of teaching, based on the old traditions.
In the basement of the main building there was a lot of old records and
transcripts, even from the time back in China. Ms. Everson had found this very
interesting, and had spent some time, looking around down there. To her
excitement, she had found old records of school punishments.
The corporal punishments were, usually, canings on the behind, or "seat" as it
was written in the book. What totally surprised her, was that quite often the
record, stated that a certain number of strokes had been delivered on the soles.
In one book she even found instructions, on how the punishments were to be
performed. There was a drawing on how the soles were to be held upturned, with a
rope tied around the ankles, and a rattan switch used to cane them. The
dimensions of the switch was carefully recorded. The book explained that the foot
switchings was to preferred on pupils of muslim descent, since in the muslim
society, uncovering of the behind was unthinkable of, especially for girls.
Ms. Everson found it very amusing, that she had taken up an old tradition.
She always, tried to pick girls she knew had nice feet. the reason she could
know, was she was also responsible for the physical education. At the beginning
of each semester, she checked the girls feet for warts e.t.c. She was, of course,
extremely careful here, and kept secret notes about the shape and appearance
of some, particularly interesting feet. Isabelle was no exception here.
Ms. Everson, clearly, remembered her soft, fleshy soles being nicely pink in
color, in contrast to Isabelle's, rather dark complexion. She remembered writing,
a long entry in her notes about Isabelle's sexy, size seven feet. She found,
Isabelle to be a very pretty girl, overall, with a nicely shaped body, cute eyes
and long straight dark hair. She had seldom before punished a girl, on her soles,
in front of the class, but this one, had simply been, too good to miss.

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After the history they had a 20 minute break. Isabelle and Sharon went to the
cafeteria room, but they were not left alone long. Heather, proud, and more than
willing to tell all of the other girls, how she had made, Isabelle, to receive a
whipping, not in the usual place, approached them.
"So, how does the dirty slut-feet, feel now? Are they red, like a spanked
bottom? Please, show us." She giggled. Both Isabelle and Sharon were prettier
than Heather, and most of her friends, and they were also larger. Heather,
thought she had an psychological advantage on Isabelle now, and could push her
down. Sharon, however, just rose to her feet, and gave Heather a menacing look.
Heather and her friends retreated. Few things, Isabelle hated more, than to be
accused of being slovenly. Her father was a judge, and she had always known how
to behave properly.
For the following biology lecture, they had to go over to another building.
The gravel walk, had probably been an unpleasant experience, for Isabelle, even
if her feet had not been recently punished. She yelped and cursed, as Heather
grabbed the opportunity, to push her in the back. Sharon pushed Heather into the
bushes.
Mrs Jenkins, the biology teacher, noticed Isabelle's bare legs and feet.
"But Isabelle, where are you shoes, dear?" Isabelle was about to explain, but
Heather interrupted her.
"Ms. Everson punished her, on the bottoms of the feet, for having slovenly
shoes. She's to walk barefoot the rest of the day."
"Be silent, Heather. I'm sure Isabelle can explain for herself. Dear child,
that must have hurt bad. But, if Ms. Everson said so... well, she's the head-
mistress."
The lecture ended at four, and Isabelle had to ask if she could leave five
minutes earlier, in order not to miss the appointment with Ms. Everson. She was
excused, and she quickly, ran up to her and Sharons room, where she put on her
usual shoes and knee stockings. She ran over to the building where Ms. Everson
had her office, but was careful not to run in the corridor. She knocked on the
massive wooden door.
"Come in." Ms. Everson was writing on some paper on her desk. Isabelle stepped
forward to the desk.
"Well, Isabelle, I have made an entry, here in the punishment book." She showed
Isabelle the page. There was three columns titled: name, offence and punishment,
respectively. The offence column said: Wearing unproper shoes, for the third
time. In the punishment column there was written: For a memorable punishment,
the girl was given six strokes on the sole of each foot.
"You are going to sign here, but first I want to have a look at your feet, to
see that you didn't get any welts or bruises." Isabelle became stiff with dread,
She had put on the socks directly. Her feet were still dirty! Should she try to
tell Ms. Everson, she never had time to wash? No, she should have remained
barefoot, better to say nothing.
"Take those shoes and socks off, dear." Isabelle sat down in a chair, and began
to unlace her shoes.
"Put your feet up, here on the desk, under the lamp." Isabelle obeyed.
"So, we didn't bother to wash the feet, before we put the socks on then, did
we?" Ms. Everson commented, as Isabelle's dark soles came under the light.
"N.. no, there was no time, I didn't want to be late." Isabelle staggered.
"Well, Isabelle, dear. Here, dirty feet will be punished. I find it extremely
convenient that I let you taste it on the soles again. Don't you think?" Isabelle
was about, to start to plead, but that strange feeling was gripping her... She
was going to be punished again...
"Y.. Yes, miss. It seems.. ..to be.. ..fair."
"Good, that we agree, but first you shall wash your feet, so they are clean
when I punish them." Ms. Everson removed her reading glasses.
"Come with me, here." Ms. Everson stood, and walked to the door. She went to a
cleaning closet in the end of the corridor. Isabelle followed.
"Fill that bucket with water, hot water! And bring that scrubbing-brush, and
that rag." Isabelle did as she was told. They went back to the room.
"Now, wash those feet." Isabelle didn't want to put her feet into hot water,
and just held one foot above the bucket as she tried to scrub it.
"Put your feet in the water, and let them soak, for a while, while I make some
preparations for your punishment." Isabelle didn't dare, but to put her feet into
the water. It was really painful to her feet, still cold from walking barefoot,
but it wasn't unbearable. She watched as Ms. Everson fetched a white rope, about
half an inch think, the kind used on sailing-boats. There was a broad entrance
way, about six feet wide, to another room in Ms. Everson's office. This room
could, possibly, have been a dining room. Ms. Everson used a chair, to stand on,
in order to put the rope on two small hooks, one in each top corner at the posts
of the entrance way. There was also, somekind of cleats, at waist height on each
post. Ms. Everson fastened the ends of the rope to the cleats. The rope was now
hanging, between the hooks, down, to about level with the cleats, and on the
middle, two loops were tied. It didn't take Isabelle much guesswork to realize,
her feet were soon, to be in the loops.
Isabelle started to wash the dirt off her soles, using the scrub. Ms. Everson
brought a white fur rug, and put it under the rope.
"Dry your feet, and take off your clothes." Ms. Everson commanded.
"All of them?" Isabelle asked, surprised.
"Yes, dear. Naked. Then, come over here, and bring your socks." God! this is so
embarrassing, Isabelle thought, as she undressed. The tingling started again...
"Give me your socks, and lie on your back here, please." Ms. Everson pointed at
the rug. The soft rug felt very comfortable against Isabelle's naked skin.
"Feet up, please." Ms. Everson held out a hand for one of Isabelle's feet.
Isabelle shivered as, Ms. Everson touched her feet, that was still warm, from the
bath. Ms. Everson's hands felt cool and clinical on her feet. Ms. Everson wrapped
a sock around the ankle, and put the foot, through one loop in the rope. She
tightened the loop around the ankle, Then the other foot. She, then untied one
end, from the cleat, and pulled, until Isabelle's behind, lifted a bit, and then
the same on the other side. Isabelle, now hung in her feet, with the feet a foot
and a half apart, and her behind six inches above the rug. She tried to move her
feet, but it was very difficult. Oh.. her feet felt so vulnerable...
"Oh, I nearly forgot the implement. I fancy, we use something more painful,
than the rattan cane." Ms. Everson went away, and came back with
something, similar to a riding crop, which she displayed to Isabelle. Oh.. it
looked so nasty. It was made of somekind of braided, red leather, and two foot
long. There was a wrist loop, and a small brass knob at the thicker end.
It seemed very flexible at the thin end. Isabelle watched the crop, wide eyed.
"Isabelle, this is a Saudi arabian "falaka". Falakas are especially made for
punishing disobedient soles. Also known as "falaq". This one is from a Saudi
girl-school, and it have licked the soles of many, screaming, young girls."
Ms. Everson lied a bit about the falaka. I was from Saudi arabia, but it was
bought there, as a birthday present for her, by a mistress friend. She had
whimpered many times, from it's licks, on her own soles. Particularly, memorable
was the 50 strokes, that came with the present.
"Well, Isabelle, it's time to get started. Don't you think?"
"Yes, miss." Ms. Everson liked Isabelle's rather cool attitude, in spite that
she was about to receive a severely painful cropping. Other girls were usually
crying and pleading for mercy, at this stage.
"Dirty feet in itself, is not a major offence, but sticking them up under the
nose of the school's head is an insult. I will give you three times, the normal
six strokes, a total of 18 strokes, on each sole." Ms. Everson stroked Isabelle's
warm, mashmallow-soft soles, that now had begun to sweat a bit, with her long
finger nails. Isabelle wasn't ticklish, but her helpless feet were completely at
the mercy of Ms. Everson. Oh.. it was so humiliating.. but yet it felt so..
wonderful.. Ms. Everson positioned herself, behind Isabelle's head, and lay the
crop down, on Isabelle's right sole, to aim. She lifted her arm, above her head.
Isabelle inhaled...

SHMACK!

Isabelle had expected it to be much worse. The pain stung, but it was nicely
distributed, from her toes, to her heel pad. It turned her on. She put her hands
between her legs, and hoped that Ms. Everson, would believe she was just covering
herself. Ms. Everson, intentionally, spared on the force. Isabelle could never
take 36 hard strokes. She selected unreasonably many strokes, only to have a
large amount to play around with. She continued at the same intensity, with two
more strokes on the right sole, and three on the left. Then she paused, for a
while.
"That was a nice little warm up. Don't you think?" Ms. Everson fondled
Isabelle's soles gently.
"Y.. yes, miss. Thank you." Isabelle didn't know what to answer. She was
feeling dizzy again. Her index finger was rubbing her clit...
"Time to step it up, then, young lady!" Ms. Everson pulled her arm behind her
back in a full swing, and let the falaka, down on Isabelle's right sole.

ShhhhhWACK!

Isabelle gasped, and hugged her arms. This really hurt. Another stroke fell, even
harder. Isabelle was shaking her head, from side to side.

SshhhhhWHACK! "AAAAaaaaaiiiiiiiihh"

I came all at once. Isabelle couldn't hold back any longer, and emitted a loud,
long cry. Tears exploded from her eyes.
"Good, girl! Let it out, dear. Don't curl your toes." Ms. Everson, satisfied by
breaking Isabelle's silence, continued, and delivered three strokes on the left
sole at equal intensity.

ShhhhhWHACK! "AAAaaahh"
ShhhhhWHACK! "AAAaoooohh"
ShhhhhWHACK! "AAAaaiiihh.. AAaaooowwwwh"

Isabelle yelped for each stroke, helplessly closing and opening her small fists.

Sharon had went back to the room, after the biology, but since Isabelle wasn't
there, she had decided to go and meet up with her, outside Ms. Everson's office.
She was about to sit down on the bench outside, when a muffled sound, through
the massive door, caught her attention. whack! "aaaaaiihhh", whack! "aaaaaoooohh"
Sharon had never heard such cries before, and was horrified. She felt terrible.
Her best friend was being punished, and she could do nothing about it. Still,
she decided to take a risk and open the door. As it opened a bit, she heard the
true intensity of Isabelle's heart-rending yelps, together with the smacking
sound of the crop, striking Isabelle's naked soles. Her friend lay, naked on the
floor, with her feet suspended by rope, in an almost unreal torture scene, like
from Arabian nights. Terrified, Sharon, closed the door and ran away, with tears
in her eyes.

When Ms. Everson switched back to Isabelle's right foot, Isabelle started to
whimper and plead for mercy, sobbing, between the strokes. She felt like a little
girl, crying and whining, but it only turned her on, even more. It felt really
good to scream, and it was close now. She found her clit again.

ShhhhhWHACK! "AAAaaaiihh.. Pleeeeease no more.. aoooowwww.. please"
ShhhhhWHACK! "AAAahhhhhh.. Pleeease miss, it hurts so bad.. owww."
ShhhhhWHACK! "AAAaaaaiiihh.. AAaiii.. I can't take it anymore, miss."

Ms. Everson ignored the pleas, and delivered three more blows to the left sole.
Isabelle howled at the top of her lungs, as she came, in a violent, pain-ridden
orgasm.
"We're already halfway, girl, only 18 more to go, sweetheart."
"Pleeeeease, pleeeeease, miss, noooo... pleeeeAAAOOOOOWWWW" Isabelle was cut
off by another three-stroke sequence on each sole. This time, Ms. Everson, used
her full force. She wanted to make sure that Isabelle felt the strokes the
following day. Then, she stopped. Isabelle lay panting and sobbing, on the rug,
her soles, red and throbbing, as the screaming pain slowly faded.
"That will be enough, little girl." Ms. Everson loosened the rope from the
cleats, and gently removed the loops, around Isabelle's ankles.
"Oh, god, miss. Thank you soo much for stopping." Isabelle panted. Ms. Everson
took Isabelle's feet in her hands, and held the soles to her face, as she
kneeled. Few things, Ms. Everson, appreciated more, than the freshly punished
soles of a girl. Gently, she nibbled and stroked her face on Isabelle's sweaty,
sore soles.
"You're a very brave little girl, Isabelle. It was quite a punishment you took,
on these cute little feet." Ms. Everson continued to lick the sweat off,
Isabelle's slightly swollen soles, and toes. Isabelle's emotions were still
upset, and confused, but she didn't mind, Ms. Everson, touching her feet. It felt
comforting, she wouldn't punish her more. Ms. Everson caressed her legs with her
soft hair.
"Come here." Ms. Everson folded Isabelle's legs apart, and pulled her up
against her, putting her arms around her.
"I know, now, you like to be punished. You don't have to be ashamed of that."
Ms. Everson stroked Isabelle, over the hair, lovingly. Isabelle sobbed softly,
and held her arms tight around Ms. Everson. Ms. Everson kissed Isabelle's cheek.
Isabelle put her lips against Ms. Everson's, and soon their tongues met. They
kissed deeply, for a long time.
"I saw what your fingers were doing, before." Ms. Everson said as she fondled
Isabelle's little breasts.
"Yes.. I felt so.. excited, miss." Isabelle had begun to loosen Ms. Everson's
clothes.
"Call me Catherine. Come, let's go somewhere more comfortable." Catherine
helped Isabelle, to her feet. Isabelle wasn't all that happy to walk on her
recently whipped soles, but Catherine supported her, by holding her around the
waist.
"How does your feet feel, now?" Catherine asked.
"A little numb and tingly, almost, like they have fallen asleep, and sore, of
course. I guess, I'll have to walk tiptoe for a while." Catherine led Isabelle
into another, smaller room, where there was a bed. She removed the bedspread, and
told Isabelle to lay down. She quickly undressed, and joined Isabelle on the bed.
Catherine stroked Isabelle's body, with her long hair, then she began to lick her
legs. She pulled Isabelle, over her, so they lay in a 69 position, Isabelle on
top. Catherine, immediately, let her tongue, slip deep into Isabelle's pussy.
The taste of Isabelle's two earlier orgasms, was prominent. She continued to
lick around the inner pussy lips, and circled the clit. Her hands were on
Isabelle's feet. She fondled the soles, and let her fingers slide between the
toes, as she massaged, gently. Although, Isabelle had never, previously, had sex
with a woman, she didn't hesitate to let her own tongue down on Catherine's clit.
She know what felt good on herself, and had no problem making Catherine moan.
Isabelle gasped, as Catherine jabbed her nails, into her sore soles.
"Ahh.. Yes, do that again." Isabelle panted. Catherine continued to dig her
finger nails into Isabelle's tender feet, as well as slapping her, on her firm
behind, occasionally. This drove Isabelle completely wild, and she came with a
whining moan, clawing Catherine's thighs.
"Lick me, while I suck on your feet." Catherine seated herself across
Isabelle's face, and lifted up Isabelle's legs, and slipped her tongue, in
between Isabelle's sexy toes. After a while, Catherine, climaxed, with a muffled
cry, biting Isabelle's foot.
They lay for a while, under the quilt, close together like spoons, Isabelle's
back against Catherine's stomach.
"Can you punish me again, tomorrow?" Isabelle turned her head, and smiled.
"Well, Don't you think we should wait, and see in what condition your feet are,
first?, you little masochist."
"If they are sore, you don't have to whip me so hard."
"OK, but you have to come up with somekind of misdemeanour, yourself, that
requires a punishment on the soles." Catherine smiled.
"Can I get my high heels, back?" Isabelle giggled.
"Yes, you'll get them back. I have them here in the office."
Isabelle thought for a while.
"If I could come up with a way, to get Heather Collins into trouble, could you
punish her, hard? I just hate her, and her friends."
"Mmm.. that sounds like fun. Just make sure, it's about shoes, feet or
something similar. I'll be happy to bastinado, the little bitch on the soles."
"What's bastinado?" Isabelle asked.
"It's a spanish word, and means to beat with a stick. It was a form of torture,
used during the inquisition, repeated stick-blows to the soles." Catherine
explained.
"You could sit here, in the bedroom, and watch. But, it will be the rattan
switch, I can't beat the poor girl, with a stick."
"Oh, yes. I would love to see Heather, get the cane, on the soles. Can Sharon
come, also?"
"Ehh.. We'll see about that. You wouldn't be telling anybody about this,
I hope?"