You bugger her instead

"Well, that shouldn't be an issue," you say with a grin and throw her legs over her head, lining up the spit-slick head of your prick with her crinkled arsehole. She whimpers briefly, somewhat conflicted by this turn of events, before coming to the conclusion that the safest response is to thank you for sparing her maidenhead.

She's tight, very tight and you have to use your thumb to **** yourself past her anus, by which time she's panting heavily as though she's just finished running a race. You give her some advice on how to ease your entry and she responds well, opening herself to you even while screwing her eyes shut and gripping the bench desperately from the effort. You tell her not to do that and she complies, looking you right in the eye. The shame and suffering you imagine you see in her tearful orbs is almost enough to push you over the edge right then and there, but you're pleased you held back when your entire length is finally swallowed up by her burning back passage.

You hear some of the spectators making unkind comments about her participation in such an obscene act, ignoring the fact that she's been **** into the indecent performance by the tipping rule. The sheer unfairness spurs you to greater passion and soon you're pounding urgently into her rectum, your hips slamming painfully into her ravaged cheeks with every thrust. Mere moments later, the incomparable ecstasy of climax comes flooding through your body.

You slump with exhaustion and the old man holding onto the blonde schoolgirl must have decided the show's over, because he tells her that it's her turn now—and if she causes as much fuss as her friend, she can expect twice the penalties.

The other onlookers have a new target for their entertainment and you have a little more privacy than expected when you ease yourself up and slide out of your unhappy partner, looking with distaste at your soiled member. Nevertheless, it seems at least one person was still watching, for the woman who answered the curious bloke's question earlier comes up to you and offers you a sanitary wipe, which you gratefully accept. The man with her, who turns out to be her husband, explains that he also enjoys the rear passage on occasion, especially after a spanking, although his wife has the opposite feelings. A few seconds is all it takes to get you squeaky clean once more and you put your clothes back in order while the nearly naked schoolgirl thanks you sorrowfully but profusely for giving her the opportunity to satisfy you.

Having participated in the maintenance spanking of a veritable goddess, the prospect of watching another man perform one is not as exciting for you as for the others present, so you decide to move on and leave the girl to put her aching body back into her clothes in her own time. The couple who provided you with a wipe leave at the same time and you can't help overhear him promising her an equally harsh thrashing when he gets her home. You smile when she thanks him, as if it's the most normal thing in the world—which it is now, of course, thanks to you.

Taking stock of your surroundings and deciding where to go next while the slap of the paddle and yelps of its recipient echo from some way behind, you suddenly realize that you never found out the name of the girl you so shockingly disciplined and violated, nor she, yours. For some reason, it excites you that she will never know the identity of the stranger who sodomized, humiliated and tormented her in public when she was just eighteen years old. You start to hum a happy tune as you set out on the next stage of your journey.