It's just not cricket

It's just not Cricket

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Willow looked at her lover and smiled, "Of course. We've talked about this. I love you, I want you and I want us to do this."

"OK, but I'm sure this isn't what they were thinking of when they set the assignments."

Willow cast her mind back to what had triggered this event as her lover opened the drawer containing the props for the forthcoming scene. It had started simply enough, On her first day of her Sociology course the lecturer had revealed that their entire course grade would be based on a single assignment. The assignment would be set at that first session and would consist of a dissertation and a presentation at the end of the course, subjects would be assigned by lot, each student literally picking their topic from a hat. When Willow opened her tightly folded twist of paper she was surprised to see written upon it 'Pornography, Prostitution and the Sex Industry'. After class Willow had hung back to talk to the lecturer, surely this couldn't be a real topic, it must be some sort of joke. Ten minutes later Willow had left in the certain knowledge that it was a real topic, she did feel that the TA's comment about not being in High School any more was a bit below the belt. Fortunately her mother had recently co-authored a paper on 'Pornography and Fetishism' and reluctantly allowed Willow access to the research material that she had amassed. Amongst the material were videos of a UK documentary about the British sex industry which had the seemingly oxymoronic title of 'British Sex'. After watching the tapes Willow thought that she would never be able to look Giles, Wesley, Spike or indeed anyone from Britain in the face again, although her mind did keep returning to one particular scene. She returned to this scene many times, wondering at the effect it had on her. Why did it have that effect? Why did she want so much to be part of it?

"Willow?"

Willow broke from her reverie to see her lover standing before her clad in heavy Brown leather lace up shoes, dense blue stockings, a long navy blue A-line skirt, a starched white blouse and black choker. Her hair was dragged back into a severe bun and her make up emphasised the angles in her face. Willow herself was clad in lighter black leather shoes, white ankle socks, a short navy blue pinafore dress and white blouse. Her makeup emphasised soft child like curves and perched on her head, although secured by a chin strap, was a straw boater, her hair surrounding her face like a halo of pale fire. All in all she could have stepped straight from a Manga comic book.

"Yes lover."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes." Willow touched her lovers arm in reassurance.

"Ok. I suppose it could be worse, it could have been that Alternate Pony thingy."

"The Other Pony Club." Willow corrected.

"Yes that's the one. Now what's the safety word?"

"Artichoke."

"Good. Now time in."

Willow looked at her lovers face as it adopted a stern expression.

"Now girl. Have you been a good girl?"

"No." replied Willow.

"No what?"

"No mistress, I haven't been a good girl."

"Have you been a bad girl?"

"Yes mistress."

"How bad have you been then girl?"

"Very naughty, mistress. I have been a very bad girl."

"Assume the position!" Willows lover was warming to her part and beginning to enjoy her role.

Willow bent her self over the back of a chair placed especially for the purpose. She felt rather than saw her lover bend down behind her and cuff her cotton clad ankles to the legs of the chair. Her lover moved around and cuffed Willows wrists to the front of the chair. As her lover stood Willow found her face mere inches from her lovers crotch and inhaled deeply. She savoured the familiar scent and was pleased to note a strong hint of arousal. Her lover moved behind her and carefully folded Willows short skirt up onto her lower back and clipped the hem to her blouse. She then slowly drew the tight white cotton panties down Willows legs to expose her pink cheeks to the air. As she ran her hands back up Willows legs one briefly dipped in between to caress Willows labia.

"Now girl. Count."

Her lover unleashed a sharp slap with a leather thong against Willows waiting behind. Willow felt the sting of pain swiftly replaced by a rush of heat.

"One. Thank you mistress."

Willow felt her lover run her hand over her buttocks, caressing them. Swiftly another blow landed. Willow became very aware of her own excitement and the scent of her own arousal wafted to her waiting nose, swiftly followed by that of her lovers. The images on the screen had been stimulating, to be living it was greater by far.

"Two. Thank you Mistress."

Three more times the strap landed and three more times Willow cried out the count, never forgetting to say "Thank you mistress."

Her lover paused the lay the thong across Willows back then she circled her bound lover to crouch and place a firm kiss upon her lips and whisper "Thank you." before returning to her task. For some minutes the room resounded to sharp cries, moans of pleasure and the thwack of leather against Willow.