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Emma's Lesson

Elliot sat on the porch of his family's gorgeous brick home, smoking a cigarette and flicking through the morning paper. He was a hard-working lawyer, around forty, taking some leave from his heavy caseload for the first time in years. His wife had gone on holidays with their children, leaving him to 'relax' at home. Elliot tipped back in his chair a little, his broad shoulders leaning back into the solid wood chair, and he looked out at the street, his face, with dark eyes and heavy eyebrows, brooding and unreadable.

Down the street tripped what looked like a little girl in a hurry, with red pigtails bouncing as she skipped along. Elliot watched. As the girl drew nearer, he realised it was Emma, his teenage daughter's best friend from Saint Aloysius, the exclusive school to which Elliot and his wife sent both their children. Emma, just turned 18, bounded up the steps and let out an 'Oh!' when she saw Elliot sitting there. Elliot looked up at Emma and concluded that she was the most beautiful little minx he had ever laid eyes on. She had perfectly pale skin with a spattering of tiny freckles across her nose, and her cheeks were a rosy pink from her hurrying. Her long red hair was caught into two pigtails, but her locks waved unruly out of the royal blue ribbons, which matched her little blazer and schoolgirl kilt. Her eyes were a startling green, large and framed with long lashes, and at the moment they looked a little teary and red.

"What can I do for you?" he asked gruffly, picking up his paper and moving toward the front door.

"Mr. Taylor... I.... I was just wondering....I didn't realise anyone would be home..." Emma replied, looking confused and a little lost, and she twirled the end of her plait around a little finger. Elliot softened a little.

"Child, is there something wrong?" he asked a little more softly. Emma burst into tears and folded into Elliot's arms. Elliot was taken aback but patted her shoulder, feeling the firmness of her high, round breast against his chest, and the girl's soft breath against his skin, and shuddered.

"I got sent home from school!" cried Emma. "I have to get changed and go back after lunch... They said my skirt was too short!" Elliot stepped back and looked at Emma's skirt, a tiny piece of tartan wrapped around young, toned little thighs with a gentle, sexy curve.

"It is very short. How on earth did your parents let you out of the house like this?"

"They don't care! I can wear what I like! I think it looks nice like this, anyhow!" Elliot smiled to himself: it certainly did look nice.

"Little girl, you can not just run wild like this. You're a young lady now and it's time you began to act like one," Elliot reprimanded sharply. Emma looked away, hanging her head and peeping out at Elliot through her red hair.

"I know, Mr. Taylor," said Emma meekly, but Elliot caught a little flash of desire in her green eyes.

Elliot looked Emma up and down and made a decision.

"No, I don't think you do know. You'll need to come inside with me and we can see if you borrow one of Lucy's skirts. Hers are much more appropriate."

"Yes, Mr. Taylor," replied Emma, following him indoors and into Lucy's bedroom. Emma began to look a little more her usual self, playful and a little naughty.

"They do a test, you know, to see if the skirt is too short. If I bend over and my knickers show, I'm in trouble!" she said, laughing at Elliot.

"I see. Bend over them, and let's see how bad the damage is," said Elliot, seriously.

Emma obediently bent over, and immediately her little kilt flew up, revealing almost all of a pair of cheeky pink checked panties. Without hesitation, Elliot reached out and gently ran his finger along with section of her panties that was showing, making Emma shudder and give a tiny moan.

"Yes, all of this is showing," Elliot said. Emma righted herself quickly, blushing crimson.

"Now Emma," said Elliot, sitting on the edge of the bed, "You've got five seconds to pull those panties down to your knees and lay yourself across my knees for a good spanking. It's the only way you're going to learn any discipline." Emma stood frozen on the spot for a moment, and then she stuttered out, "No, Mr. Taylor... I don't think...."

"Now, Emma" intoned Elliot in his most commanding voice, and Emma felt she had no choice but to obey him. She slowly pulled her panties down to her knees and draped herself across Elliot's lap, her bottom lip quivering with fear and her cheeks flushed.

"This is for your own good," said Elliot, and gave her a hard smack on her firm, round ass, immediately making her delicate white turn pink. Emma cried out a little and tried to twist around.

"No, Emma, lay still please", Elliot commanded, and Emma gave up fighting and lay obediently across his lap. He continued to give her five more hard smacks, and each time Emma let out a little cry. Elliot's cock was rock hard and aching. He looked down at Emma's beautiful little pussy, covered with a fine sprinkling of auburn hair, and noticed that she was absolutely soaking wet.

"Alright, little girl, I think that's enough now," said Elliot finally, and Emma stood up, a little shaky on her feet and with a few tears clinging to her lashes.

"Thank you sir," said Emma, "I know I deserved that. May I pull up my panties now?" Elliot smiled. She had certainly learned some discipline.

"What use would that be, little girl?" asked Elliot with a smirk, "When your pussy is soaking wet and will ruin them right away?"

Emma looked down, ashamed, and Elliot strode over to her quickly, put one strong arm around her waist and hoisted the girl a couple of feet into the air. He moved to in front of the large wall mirror and as she tried to wriggle away, his grip around her delicate waist only grew tighter.

"There's only one way to solve this problem" he said roughly, and Emma struggled harder, her little legs in long white socks kicking feebly.

"No... I've never..." she said weakly. Elliot smiled evilly and looked at the little girl in the mirror, her kilt hoisted up and her panties around her knees, moisture from her pussy sticky around her thighs, legs still kicking a little, her red hair come half out its plaits. He pulled her shirt open a little, and pinched her small pink nipple cruelly. She cried out and twisted her body furiously. She needed to be calmed down, quickly. Without hesitation he dove two large fingers into her little pussy, and she immediately stopped fussing.

"Good girl, good girl, it'll all be alright," he said gently, watching her in the mirror as her eyes shut and her breathing became laboured. He fucked her rhythmically and firmly with his fingers, and thumbed her throbbing little clit with his thumb. Her little voice became more and more desperate as she cried out indistinct noises, and her body became tense and her head rolled back onto Elliot's shoulder.

"Mr Taylor... Mr... I'm..." she moaned, and then buried her head into his neck and bit hard, her body erupting into spasms of pleasure, her little stockinged legs scraping against his own, her chest heaving and her pussy contracting helplessly in orgasm. She slumped weakly against Elliot and he let her gently down onto the ground.

"Alright, little girl," he said, stroking her firm, high breasts. As she sat, slumped against the bed, he opened a drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of panties and his daughter's school skirt.

"Here we are," he said, and left the room, leaving little Emma to change into her spare clothes in time, so that she wouldn't be in any more trouble today.

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