The Calculus Tutorial

Part Four

The Switch

He tapped me on the shoulder with his switch to get my attention and using its tip he herded me over to the desk. It was a standard grey Steelcase, double-drawer desk. You have probably seen a million of them in your life. But I will never forget that desk as long as I live. It had one of those vinyl top surfaces, hard vinyl, cold vinyl. He directed me over to a corner of the desk. I eyed the bright steel rim that bridged between the grey streaked vinyl covering the top and the grey steel side edge. I automatically calculated the contact angle between that strip of stainless steel and the crease of my lap and the shaved triangle of my mons. He bade me stretch out across the desk diagonally. As he bent me over, the first thing that touched that cold surface were my breasts. Not large breasts but sensitive breasts. The minute my nipples touched that cold vinyl they instantly became engorged and turgid sending a frisson of sexual excitement through my body. As I adjusted myself according to his instructions, the cold steel touched my pubic triangle and the front of my thighs, increasing my arousal. OH SHIT this was starting again. I don't know if I can stand another cycle of unrequited sexual stimulation to the edge of a climax and then be denied an orgasm. Splaying out my arms and grasping the sides of the desk only served to jam my tense nipples and sensitive pubes more tightly into that cold grey desk. How am I going to take this?

Then just as my arousal was peaking I heard that sound for the first time - the whistle as the switch, employed with consummate skill, came down upon my buttocks. Since this was my first time and I was preoccupied with my tits and my pussy, the sound had no significance to me. I will never again hear that type of swishing whistle and not clench my buttocks. The crape myrtle wand landed evenly across both of my unsuspecting butt cheeks, exactly half way between the crease where my buttocks joined my thighs and my belt line. Oh my God what that first stroke felt like! At first, it was like an electrical shock then it was like a hot coal being drawn across my skin. I shrieked, stood up, clapped my hands to my behind, turned around to face my tormenter and screamed "NO! You can't do this, you can't hurt me like this." As I shouted at him the fire in my buttocks only became greater. Up until this point in my life I had never felt pain like this. This was not the sharp twinge of a turned ankle or the dull ache of an athletic injury. This was fire. This was unbearable. He smiled at me and stood there tapping the switch into his left palm and said "It appears that my little half Chinese, half Japanese bitch has absolutely none of the stoicism and self control ascribed to her race. What's the matter bitch, can't take a little spanking. This is just the beginning, you have a long way to go before you leave this room. This switch is going to become very familiar to you before this evening is over."

I reacted without really thinking. I spat in his face, grabbed the switch from his hand, broke it in two over my knee, and naked as the day I was born I ran on my high heels for the door. "SHIT" I exclaimed as I struggled with the massive, rusty bolt. "OH FUCK" I blurted when his massive right hand smacked into the right side of my head spinning me around. Stunned, I said nothing as he grabbed my left hand and then yelped with pain as he twisted my left forearm up behind my back. I suspect that he had dealt with this situation before. He frog marched me back to the desk but stopped in front of the grey metal closet. Switching his grip on my wrist from his right hand to his left, he then opened the door and extracted four pieces of white nylon rope. Each of these was about three eights of an inch thick and perhaps six feet long. Shit, I know what is coming now. It was a good thing I had just emptied my bladder because I could feel it go into spasm in reaction to my fear. Back over the desk I went, held down by what I can only describe as a massive paw while my right hand was bound by a loop spliced into the end of the rope. I marveled at how he was able to hold me down and at the same time secure my arms. Practice, I guess. My kicking and screaming goes unanswered. I am sure he has chosen this time carefully. Security must have just finished their final round of the night. I sure no one will pass down that corridor much before five or six in the morning. And given that tomorrow is Saturday, maybe not even then. This fucker really knows what he is doing. Now it is my ankles that are being tied to the leg of the desk. I am in really deep shit.

It is only when I am bound hand and foot that he speaks again. "Well my little bitch, I think we know who is in control now. I love it so much when a girl struggles, I so love it when I can see you helplessly squirm. I am not actually angry with you. In fact I was hoping you would do this. It makes the training so much more fun. I hope that you realize that I have a large number of switches. I try not to break them over the behinds of naughty little girls but sometimes it happens. That's why I have lots of extras." He went over to the vase and selected another wand. At this point my terror increased to the point where I felt my bowels loosen. But so thorough had my preparatory enema been that all that emerged from my anus was a long low fart. I banged my head against the vinyl of the desk top and sobbed and screamed. "There, there he crooned, don't make such a fuss, you might hurt yourself. You must remember, slow and steady, slow and steady, that's how I like it done. Here, I don't want you to bite your tongue." He put a piece of leather into my mouth. Just like the leather bones they sell in the grocery store. The type you give to your dog to chew on. Well this was not beige, hard and new. It was brown and the leather was fairly soft and more than a bit moist. I wondered who or what had been chewing on it, his dog or another girl being tortured. I gagged and tried to spit it out but he secured it into my mouth with a couple of pieces of white string already tied to the ends.

Then I heard that whistling sound. In all the struggling I had forgotten about everything but the struggle. Now I remembered that whistling sound. And I knew what was coming. Electricity and fire was coming. I stiffened my body in anticipation of the blow but nothing could prepare me for the pain. FUUCCK! Oh No, Oh No. I squirmed and thrashed but still it hurt. I twisted my hands and pulled as hard as I could but all I succeeded in doing was to abrade my wrists. He, the supreme sadist, was in complete control. He just waited until my gyrations ceased and then I heard that swooshing whistle again. Bound over as I was, I couldn't turn my head far enough around to see where the three blows had landed. But I was pretty sure that there were three parallel lines of fire arranged with mathematical precision across my ass. And I swore that he had peeled the skin off with each stroke. My backside must be bleeding, he must have torn my skin. I will get him back if it is the last thing I do. There is no way he is going to get away with this. Then that sound and then the pain. Oh My God I cannot endure this. Four blows but it seems as if he has been beating me all night. He takes his time and seems to know just how long it takes for the pain from a single stroke to become maximal and then he strikes again just when the sharpest pain is beginning to come down. Oh Shit, that was the fifth, how much longer can this last. Oh No, Oh No, Oh No, six. My bladder is in complete spasm.

Then he stopped. He stopped and lightly, ever so lightly ran his switch up and down over my ass, just barely touching the skin. I could feel the wand bumping up and down as it passed over the ridges of the welts emerging from the skin of my backside. It was curious that I could barely feel the passage of the switch. It seemed that the discrete sensations of my buttocks were subsumed into one single throbbing area of pain. The throbbing seemed to grow with each passing minute and he must have toyed with my skin for five minutes. All so lightly he stroked my behind, just the barest touch. All of this had been done with him standing by my left side. I had never really noticed that he was right handed, it is just something you automatically assume. But then he walked over to my right side and shifted the switch to his left hand. I watched with fascination as he took several practice cuts through the air with the switch. I hadn't really had much of a chance to examine it closely up until now. And one part my mind seemed detached and dispassionate and considered the switch from a rationalist point of view. Maybe just over thirty inches long, Perhaps the thickness of my forefinger at its base. It tapered to no more than two millimeters at its tip. It was so light that it looked like some sort of a funny toy in his hammy hand. How clever, he must be ambidextrous. Then that terrible sibilant whistle came and the reptilian part of my brain started screaming "Watch out, brace yourself, here comes the pain" and the rational part of my brain went away.

Six times he hit me, six times he struck me from the left. This was worse than before. When he started the globe of my buttocks was covered with fire. But there were probably valleys in between the hills of the parallel welts. He was now filling in the valleys. He was striking skin that was already aflame and Oh Gawd did it hurt. Much worse than before. And boy did he take his sweet fucking time. He knew I wasn't going anywhere. He knew exactly how tight to tie me. Not too tight so that the circulation to my hands was cut off but secured so that I might squirm and wiggle but not dodge the blows. And Oh My Fucking Gawd did those six strikes hurt. I was sure that at this point my buttocks must be fiercely bleeding.

Then it happened. Somewhere during those six blows I became aware of that familiar throbbing in my loins. He was going so slow. Even slower than the first six. And in between the electric jolts of the switch striking, during the fire, I became aware of my arousal. NOOOH! I thought, you can't be doing this to me, you can't be arousing me like this. And then the blow hit. Just above the crease where the buttocks join the thighs was where he hit me. And the electricity started coursing through my vagina. I swear I could feel the jolt entering the cervix of my uterus. He hit me again, just above that spot and I started the climb to orgasm. And then he stopped. And I screamed and twitched and rubbed my pubes into the corner of the desk and tried to wipe the surface of the vinyl with my swollen nipples. And it wouldn't come. I couldn't climax. I pressed my face into the desk and cried as I have never cried before. I just laid there and sobbed. And every muscle in my body ached with the tension. And nothing would come. And he knew it, and the bastard new it, and the son-of-a-bitchin bastard knew it. He knew that he had taken me, by his beating, to the edge of an orgasm and then snatched it away. How could he know? How could he know! He went over to the desk chair and sat down, tapping the switch in his hand, watching the clock on the wall and whistling an aria from a Mozart opera. One of the lesser operas, maybe 'Cosi Fan Tutti'. I couldn't remember which. Whistling that damned fucking song for fifteen minutes.

Then he came over to me and stroked my short black hair. "Having fun" he said. "I am. I hope that you appreciate the sensitive way in which I am beating you. You know, you should realize by now that resistance is futile. You are no longer in control. You can't control your bladder, you can't control your bowels. Your limbs twitch and you caterwaul like a baby. You need to learn to just relax, kick back and enjoy it. Who knows, you may even come to like it. Maybe even to need it. Who know, before long you may even come to me begging for it. That's when you have become a real pain slut. I think that you have the makings of a real pain slut in you, you know."

Then he walked over to the vase, tossed his old switch on the floor and selected a new one. He was still whistling that fucking Mozart when he walked over to my left side with the fresh switch in his right hand and said. "Young lady, do you realize that there is such beautiful ivory white skin between your buttocks and the tops of your black stockings. I really think that it needs some stimulation don't you." My conscious mind was marveling at what he was saying but the reptilian centers of the basal ganglia in my brain stem were once again screaming. They knew what was coming. Except it wasn't quite the same this time around. As he beat the backs of my upper thighs, changing sides every three strokes this time, one part of my brain was searching for that which I had felt earlier. It was desperately searching for that wall to climb. And then, somewhere in the pain I found it and got one leg over it. And then I was straddling that wall and riding it. And it started in my vagina and it consumed my genitals with fire and my uterus started cramping and my whole body convulsed. And I went into another world and stayed there until he stopped beating me. And then I climbed down off the wall. I had never been there before. I think I was screaming like some sort of animal and shaking like a leaf. It must have been fifteen or twenty minutes before I became human again. He patiently waited.