The Private Scholarship

I won a private scholarship in a contest and it was really, really great. Tuition was included. Food and shelter was included. I was going to go to a good college for three years in a city with a far better college than the little village where I live. Happy times when I won that contest.


And yes, it was indeed great to win this contest, but my sponsor had many rules. I had a curfew, for example. I had to come straight back after school. He also didn’t allow me to have friends over.

I was sort of happy about not having friends over, because one of the weirder rules he had was that I had to take my skirt and panties off in the garden before coming inside when I came home.


When I asked why, he just said that he liked that and I guess he was a pervert of some sort. Oh well, house rules. Gotta follow the house rules. My mom had even told me when I left to stay here, to respect the rules of the house that I would be moving into.

My parents liked this guy. I think he gave them some money too.

At first it seemed a little weird to have to do piano practice bottomless. After a while I got used to it.


In the morning before school, he would have me make him breakfast, coffee and even give him a little shoulder massage in the morning, while he would read the paper.


He was a bit of a horny guy and me being the woman in the house, I guess it was logical that I would take care of that for him.

He would simply take his cock out if it got hard, and it usually did in the morning, and he had me masturbate him. I actually got really good at it very quickly. The first few times it look a long time and my movements were not steady. But after just a week or two, I had learned to get it done in just a minute or two.


I learned everything pretty quickly. He was a good instructor, I guess, and he used some of the same techniques that my own parents had done. When I did something wrong, like forgetting to put the exactly right amount of sugar in his coffee, then he would spank me.

It was a good way for me to remember, because the spanking helped me concentrate on getting it right.


Come to think of it, judging by the amount of spankings, I wasn’t getting much better, because the spankings became more and more frequent.

He also tried another method if I had really got it wrong, like taken yesterdays paper or used milk that was too old. Then he would not only spank me, but also pull my panties down and fuck me.


I made more and more mistakes, not because I wasn’t learning, but because he made it harder and harder for me to get everything right, because his rules became more and more intricate.

For example, he told me I got the sugar amount wrong, but he wouldn’t even tell me if I put too much or too little.

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