by Donna George Storey
The teacher snaps my washcloth open like a whip and soaps it to a lather. The first part of the curriculum involves scrubbing my back vigorously from my shoulders to my buttocks. Each stroke finds an answering twinge in my belly. My pale skin is already flushed from the hot bath, but under his scouring, my flesh blushes to a fiery hue. I am red and wet down there, too, because I can feel my own pussy juice oozing onto my legs. When the teacher reaches my hips, he lays the cloth aside and gives my ass a good kneading with his bare hands, then finishes with a stinging slap, one for each cheek.