Free Witch Hunter by Willow Sears

wanting it to end.
    She was on the point of collapse but the slaps were coming one after another, across both cheeks, driving her on. The pain was almost indiscernible now that her bottom was so numb, but the heat between her legs was ever more noticeable. She was so het up that she thought for one terrible moment she was actually going to climax uncontrollably from her panic and humiliation, right there in front of the class. Then suddenly the treadmill was slowing to a stop. She got off it but still held onto it for support, bent forward with exhaustion.
    The tears were still on her flushed cheeks. Her mouth was open and a thin thread of viscous saliva was dangling from her lips. She was shaking. Her head wouldn’t clear and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t need to. The witch moved in to her, so close she felt the crotch at her throbbing bottom and the breasts squashing against her back. She felt an arm come around her waist, a sneaky move on the blind side of the girls, the hand slipping down to jam between her thighs. One finger buried itself in her crotch and pressed hard, magically finding her clit as it pulsed against the constraining denim. She almost collapsed but the woman held her up.
    She could feel breath in her ear. The witch was going to say something comforting to her, something loving. That’s what happened in her fantasies. Miss Morgana would whisper that it was all right to be turned on by torture and public sexual humiliation. She would say something to the watching girls that made this whole bizarre episode OK. She would absolve Mimi of any guilt, explaining the squeals as something other than the joy of being openly spanked.
    But it was not to be. Instead the witch quietly hissed, ‘You want me to do that to your bare arse, don’t you, you naughty slut?’
    Mimi felt one more clitty press that sent the bliss shooting through her, and then the woman had backed away and was commanding her to sit. She could offer no response at all. With one hand covering her tearful eyes and the other clutching her sore bottom, Mimi wobbled back to her desk on legs that would barely move. She couldn’t recall a more mortifying episode in all her life. Worse still, as she played it back in her head she knew it would have sounded to her audience exactly like it had felt to her: like she
loved
it. Then there were those witchy words, hissed in her ear. The truth was that Morgana had read her mind again. She
did
want it on her bare arse. At the end, when she had all but lost control and the shameful joy of it was getting too much, she had been desperate for her jeans and knickers to be pulled down. She had almost cried out for it. The urge to feel the sting on her unprotected skin had been desperate. She had wanted to hear the dull sound turn sharp. She wished the girls could have witnessed her naked juddering rump, the red patches on pure white skin.
    She couldn’t quite explain what her body had been crying out for, but it was like she had needed to explode. She had wanted to scream. She had wanted to pee, massively. Most of all she had wanted a
huge
prick inside her from the rear. Or if not a prick then fingers, or a whole hand, things that under normal circumstances she could never dream of taking inside her body – and not just in her pussy but in her virgin bottom. She had wanted to be filled way beyond anything she had ever experienced.
    She had wanted all the girls behind her, pinching her, slapping her, squeezing her desperate clitty so cruelly. Even now that the girls had been forced to wipe the happy sneers from their faces and refocus on their tutor, Mimi still wished she had the strength to risk further humiliation, to bend over bare-arsed in front of them all and let them do their worst.
    The blood was banging in her ears and all the noises of the class were muffled. Her vision was tear-blurred and everything seemed to be going on as if under water. The girls had gone back to their potion recipe