Dream On Harry Perkins

By Johnathan Cayne

Every night Harry Perkins watches the girl he secretly loves spanked. It’s only a dream or, is it? Dreams and reality become one, in a story of a 19-year-old student given the chance to live out his most erotic spanking fantasies.
When a company in California recruits Harry’s father, an expert in computers, Harry joins him as part of the company’s new Intern Program. For a while, everything seems perfect, perhaps too perfect.
At college, Harry meets Sarah and falls hopelessly in love with her, however, Sarah seems to favor football players with big muscles. Definitely not Harry.
As the dreams continue, Harry receives a strange package. The contents drive him deeper into the world of dark fantasy. Haunted by the voice of an unseen woman, for Harry the line between dream and reality fades. He quickly finds the woman is more than just a voice and learns there is no need to see someone to enjoy the pleasures of their body.
No longer sure, what is real, he begins a succession of erotic fantasies filled with spanking and humiliation. Becoming in turn, the Governor of a very special girl’s finishing school, an assistant Punishment Officer with a shoplifter to deal with, a pizza deliveryman, delivering to a woman with more than pizzas on her mind.
He witnesses the public birching of a student, gives a neighbor’s daughter a spanking, learns how to bath naughty girls and discovers the secrets of a girls school’s mechanical horse.
One fantasy succeeds the next. Are they as real as they seem? Is it all just a dream, or is there something far more sinister behind it?
Harry has a lot further to go before he finds both the answers and true love.
A story packed with spankings, forced nudity, male and female domination, humiliation and erotic encounters.
All characters are 18+.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Johnathan Cayne
• Release date: Aug 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370558025

Johnathan Cayne

Johnathan Cayne has always been happy to give a hand to a lady in trouble – a hand, the cane or birch.An expert on the occult, he has, under various pen names, written on magic and the supernatural. Widely traveled, he enjoys seeing new places and meeting new people, especially from a seat in the local bar. He has worked in the porn industry – behind the camera, and hunted down ghosts.He now combines two of his favorite pastimes – spanking and writing.You can email him at: [e-mail]

Book preview

Dream On Harry Perkins

By Johnathan Cayne

Copyright 2016 Johnathan Cayne

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – The Dream Machine

Chapter 2 – Classroom Punishment

Chapter 3 – Appointment with the Principal

Chapter 4 – Pizza Delivery

Chapter 5 – The Disciplinarian’s Assistant

Chapter 6 – Spank My Daughter – Please!

Chapter 7 – Riding the Horse

Chapter 8 – The School Birch

Chapter 9 – Peeping Perkins

Chapter 10 – Your Turn Now …

Chapter One: The Dream Machine

Sarah Edwards! Ms. Moore snapped, Out front – Now!

Cheeks flushing, Sarah got hesitantly to her feet. With obvious trepidation, she made her way slowly to the front of the class. Her tight jeans forming a second skin over her full, rounded buttocks. Food for the hungry imagination of the watchers.

In common with every male member of the class, Harry Perkins’ eyes followed the delicious movement of the nineteen-year-old, as she edged her way between the desks.

She really was one of the most gorgeous girls imaginable. Hardly surprising that Harry had fallen for her the moment he had seen her. Half the college lusted after her.

She was, of course totally out of his reach. While he was no slouch in the looks department, Harry prided himself on being a realist. Girls like Sarah attracted guys with muscles. Not geeks, who preferred spending their time in front of a computer screen, rather than watching twenty-two hulks, oozing testosterone, play ball.

Sarah had reached the front of the class and stopped before Ms. Moore’s wooden topped desk.

Well Miss Edwards? Ms. Moore paused, letting the question hang.

Not meeting the woman’s gaze Sarah shuffled her feet nervously. She was a good head taller than the teacher was, but under Ms. Moore’s redoubtable gaze, Sarah seemed to shrink. Morphing from sophisticated nineteen-year-old student into a nervous schoolgirl brought up before a forbidding teacher.

It was not that Ms. Moore was old; she was only a few years older than Sarah, but she exuded an old-fashioned air of authority. In class, she made no concession to fashion, invariably wearing white, high necked, buttoned blouses and straight, plain woolen skirts. She kept her dark hair drawn back into a tight knot and her face innocent of make-up.

Whether she knew it or not, the very severity of her dress was fuel to the sexual fantasies of both her students and her colleagues alike. While her private life was the subject of much speculation, she kept her life outside of her teaching duties very much to herself. Only managing to add to her mystery.

Ms. Moore remained silent, waiting, simply letting her eyes rest contemplatively on Sarah, allowing the girl’s imagination to do the work. Watching the seeds of discomfort begin to grow.

Aware of not just Ms. Moore’s penetrating gaze but the eyes of rest of the room on her, Sarah shuffled her feet self-consciously. Twice, she seemed about to speak but said nothing.

At last, Ms. Moore broke the silence, You know the rules concerning cell phones, Miss Edwards?

Yes, Ms. Moore.

Then, why, may I ask, were you using one during my class? She made it sound like a federal offense. Since more than ninety-percent of her class were doing anything but pay attention to her, it seem a massive overreaction.

I’m sorry Ms. Moore, Sarah murmured. She raised her gaze. The eyes she met were dark and cold like the button eyes of a toy.

The woman seemed to consider the statement, turning it over in her mind. All the time her eyes kept their hold.

At last, she said, Sorry? She managed somehow to fill the word with so much incredulity it burst on the girl.

Sorry? she repeated. She might have been Edith Evans uttering her immortal, "a handbag. She paused theatrically, You most certainly will be sorry, Miss Edwards. I will see to that." It had moved from federal to capital offence.

Ms. Moore rose slowly from her chair and walked round the desk. Sarah turned, following her movement. The woman seemed in no hurry to break the silence. She simply stood regarding Sarah as if the girl were a misplaced point in a decimal equation. Sarah kept her eyes down becoming more acutely aware of the rest of the class.

When Ms. Moore moved, it was unexpected and with surprising speed. She seized Sarah’s arm in a tight grip, fingers digging into flesh. Sarah tried to pull away but the woman was too strong. She found herself forced forward, face down across the wooden desktop. Ms. Moore’s hand pressed into the small of her back squashing her harder against its surface. Sarah tried to yell out in protest but it came out as an unintelligible burble.

I will not have such a blatant disregard of college rules in my class. Ms. Moore’s voice was suddenly far from the dreary drone, she habitually adopted when lecturing.

As Sarah struggled, Ms. Moore’s free hand closed over a wooden ruler. She wielded it like a sword, raising it above Sarah. You are nineteen Miss Edwards, not nine. It may have escaped your notice but you are here to study, not play with your toys.

There was a giggle from somewhere near the back of the room. Suppressed immediately, as Ms. Moore snapped, If anyone finds the idea amusing they can come and join Miss Edwards.

She gave a quick glare about her before returning her attention to Sarah. In one practiced, easy motion, Ms. Moore brought the ruler down hard across the tight jeans. The crack, as the ruler landed split the room like a rifle shot and had the same effect. The room froze, everyone waiting for the next shot and glad they were not in the firing line.

Sarah let out a gasp and tried to jump up but the hand on her back pressed her down harder. Ms. Moore raised the ruler again. Sarah kicked out, her foot just missing Ms. Moore as the ruler descended for a second time. This time Sarah managed to remain silent allowing only a sharp intake of breath to betray her shock.

Harry was drooling, his eyes clamped to the curve of her buttocks. Unconsciously, holding his breath as he waited for each stroke to crack home.

Three.

The excitement that filled the room crackled like an electric charge.

One more.

It was like watching a film he had seen a dozen times and waiting for a favorite scene.

The ruler cracked down a fourth time.

Ms. Moore released her hand. Stand up.

Sarah straightened. Her face flushed, her hands hesitatingly seeking the seat of her jeans. She clearly thought it was all over. Harry knew differently.

Please take down your pants, Miss Edwards, Ms. Moore said, in the same way as she might have said, collect the textbooks. Then, added, almost as an afterthought, Your pants offer too much protection.

The world went on hold.

Sarah could feel her eyes fill with tears. She met Ms. Moore’s gaze, pleading, begging silently. The other’s expression remained impassive.

I am waiting. You will remove your pants Miss Edwards and then we will continue with your punishment.

Sarah forced down her embarrassment. She reached for the fastening of her jeans. They were tight, so tight she had to wriggle them down, threatening to take the newly revealed pale blue panties with them and sending Harry’s pulse into overdrive.

Slowly, the jeans came down, descending until they were around her ankles. For a moment, Sarah stood, consumed in a mixture of foolishness and acute embarrassment. Her hands dragging at the hem of her top, she kept her eyes rooted to the floor, very aware of the sight she was offering the rest of the class.

Right off please, Miss Edwards, Ms. Moore said, with cold briskness.

Harry’s cock threatened to ram a hole through his pants as Sarah dipped down. The blue panties revealing as much as they hid. He watched her try to free her feet from the jeans. For a moment, she struggled with her shoes finally kicking them off with a small sigh of resignation. With a jerk, she freed her feet and tossed the pants aside as if glad to rid herself of them.

Across the desk please, Miss Edwards.

It was with almost a feeling of relief that Sarah lowered herself over the desk. She found her fingers reaching for the far edge, gripping it tightly as if it might offer some protection. The stretch of her body drawing the thin pale blue panties even tighter over the perfect curves of her buttocks. Her bare legs straight, her thighs pressed tightly together.

In the almost electric silence, Ms. Moore raised the ruler and then hesitated. For a long moment she stood contemplating the girl, while around her, once again the world held its breath.

Harry waited, feeling the excitement growing. However many times he relived the moment, it would never be enough. He felt the beat of his heart grow faster.

I think Miss Edwards you still have a little too much protection, Ms. Moore said, with what might almost have been a smile.

It was what Harry had been waiting for.

Sarah gasped out something he did not catch but it did not matter. His eyes were on Ms. Moore, her fingers were already tugging at the pale blue panties, drawing them down to reveal smooth white buttock cheeks blotched by three red marks.

She pulled the panties lower until they formed a tight band around Sarah’s thighs, underlining the girl’s nakedness. The entire class, male and female, were eagerly leaning forward in their chairs. At the back of the room, two or three were standing up.

As if playing to her audience, Ms. Moore lifted Sarah’s top, pushing it up high enough to reveal the white straps of a bra.

Harry watched, as in almost slow motion Ms. Moore raised the ruler before bringing it down with full force on Sarah’s left buttock. Sarah gave a wild yell and jerked up from the desk. A crimson print the shape and size of the ruler branding the pale skin.

Immediately Ms. Moore grasped Sarah by the back of her shirt. Her hand pressed down between Sarah’s shoulders pressing her against the desk. Ms. Moore struck again, the ruler adding its brand to her right cheek. Again, and again Sarah jerked under the bite of the ruler. The bucking of her thighs revealing tantalizing glimpses of her sex.

If you want any breakfast, you’d better get your bloody ass in gear.

His father’s voice broke into Harry’s dream, shattering it. Dusting away the last dregs of sleep, Harry lifted his head from the pillow. From downstairs came the smell of cooking.

I’m up. I’m up, he shouted.

It was the one thing his father prided himself on, cooking breakfast. He had done it, even when Harry’s mother had been alive and it had become something of a ritual.

Harry swung himself out of bed and ginned ruefully. He sported a spectacular erection, as he always did when he had the dream.

Glad there was no one to witness him. Harry dragged his pants over his still thrusting cock. The memory of the dream, still fresh and clear, would not go away. He tried not to think about the erection tenting his trousers. The boner would just have to wait until after breakfast when he could give it some close personal attention.

The dream had become more frequent. He was having it every night now. Always the same in every detail. Sarah would be using her cell phone. Ms. Moore would catch her. Order Sarah to the front of the class, and spank her in front of everyone.

Not that he was complaining. It was a great dream. However, at the same time he had begun to find it increasingly disquieting. The dream was so real; he could remember every single detail. Always precisely the same, it was becoming something more than a dream. An obsession.

Just one more complication.

A few months ago, life had seemed so simple. That was before California, before the dreams had started. Before, –

Harry’s father, Brian, worked in computers. Specializing in virtual reality, and considered one of the top dozen people in his field. It was how he had met Harry’s mother. They had both been working on the same project, fallen in love and married all in the space of a couple of months.

It had also brought about the end of their marriage. After working almost forty-eight hours on her latest project without a break, driving home, Harry’s mother had been involved in an accident.

Brian Perkins had immediately plunged even deeper into work. Drowning his emotions in activity.

For Harry it had been different. Of course, he mourned his mother’s passing, but when well-meaning people remarked on how much he must miss her, he felt a spasm of guilt. How could you miss someone who was never there? He vowed never to let work take over his life.

That had been four years ago.

With his first year at university behind him, life was settling down into a comfortable routine. The social opportunities university offered were of little attraction to Harry. He was not unsociable. His social media accounts could testify to that. It was just he felt more comfortable communicating via a keyboard.

Despite his vows, whether he realized it or not, work was taking over his life and he was offering no resistance. His future was set to follow a predictable, well-worn path.

Then, suddenly it had all changed. Initially, it had nothing directly to do with Harry. A company based in California wanted to recruit his father. The offer was an incredible one. A massive increase in salary and a dream re-location package that included a house and a car. They wanted Brian Perkins and it seemed they were determined to go to any lengths to get him.

The second offer. The one that really changed everything, arrived the day Brian Perkins committed himself to his new job. This one directed at Harry. The company were starting a new project, a form of intern-ship. A package deal to encourage fresh talent. If he would like to join his father, the company would take care of his continuing studies, offer him work experience and when he graduated, guarantee him a job.

In retrospect, he might have considered it just a little too good to be true. However, at the time, Harry had been flattered.

The move had been all the company had promised, and more. The flight had been first class. A limousine had been waiting for them and the house leased by the company had, as everything else, had been luxurious. They had even fixed up for Harry to spend a couple of weeks at college before the end of the current semester. A chance, they said, to get acquainted with his new life and help him settle in.

Brian Perkins had taken to his new life with unexpected gusto. Plunging into all California and the company had to offer.

For Harry, the doubts had set in almost as he stepped off the plane. There was no logical reason for his feelings. Just an electric tingling that something was wrong.

Everyone had been friendly. Almost too friendly. People had gone out of their way to make them welcome. One neighbor had brought cookies, another a homemade cake.

It all should have been perfect. And, it was. That was, perhaps the trouble. It was all, too perfect. Harry tried to tell himself he was being foolish and it was all his imagination. Once he settled down and made a few friends, he would be fine.

Then he’d had the dream for the first time.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced. He could not rid it from his mind. It began to affect his waking hours. At odd times of the day, he found himself recalling it. Reliving the details as if it had actually happened.

The package arrived the day after college had ended for the summer vacation. Harry’s first two weeks had not been so bad. He still felt very much an outsider, but that was more down to him than anyone else. Everyone had gone out of their way to make him feel at home. He dismissed an odd feeling that they had all been ordered to be nice to him, as just another symptom of the paranoia that had been bugging him. Probably, nothing more than an expression of homesickness.

Sarah had been one of the first to come up and welcome him and it was then he had fallen for her. Caught in her enchantment, Harry had simply stared helplessly at her. She had smiled and brushed at a few stray strands of blonde hair, the simple gesture sending his stomach on a triple roller coaster ride.

When he had tried to speak, he found his tongue suddenly paralyzed and he had just stuttered. As he stood helplessly drowning in the green eyes, he knew she was laughing at him and who could blame her? He forced words out not sure what he was saying. Her eyes still holding his. Her lips slightly parted. Then, a guy with more