Lucy had heard
of the school, but had never believed it actually existed. Myths and lurid stories were rife but most
people thought they were all made up.
Yet here she was, about to walk through the gates of Marigold's Academy
for Wayward Girls. She would soon
discover that the rumours about the school were largely true.
As she was
marched by her escorting guard along the pathway to the main reception area a
gardener, who was tending the flowerbeds nearby stopped and stared at her. He leaned on his rake, gave her a lecherous
glance and licked his lips. Lucy caught
sight of a conspicuous bulge in his trousers further down.
Through a heavy
oak door she was directed, into the main lobby area. There, sitting behing a desk, was a
severe-looking receptionist - a woman in her forties, peering down at her over
half-moon spectacles. She motioned to
Lucy to sit, which she did. She thanked
the security guard and dismissed him, then turned to Lucy, taking out a
registration form as she did so. The
form was partly completed and the receptionist checked and confirmed the
details on it.
"Name?"
Lucy was very
nervous by now, and answered in a timid voice.
"Lucy Hawkins"
"Age?"
"14"
Lucy was one of
the younger referrals to the school, though she was above the lower age limit.
"Crime?"
It was so
unfair. The charges were all trumped up
and she hadn't done anything wrong.
Actually this was true - she hadn't.
But the corrupt forces which led to girls like Lucy finding themselves
in schools like this one cared little about rules and fairness. She fitted the needs and desires of the rich,
powerful perverts running the system and that was good enough.
"Moral
deficiency"
Yes, Lucy's
morals had been deemed unacceptable and therefore she was sentenced to six
months of correction at the MAWG.
More details
were checked then the receptionist handed her a rule book, which explained the
regime under which she was to be cared for by the school. It was a catalogue of horror.
The rules:
1. Girls have
no rights, except as detailed in the rules.
2. Staff shall
be granted power over girls, as detailed below.
Teachers - full
rights. All relations between teachers
and pupils are permitted, and encouraged in order to further moral
education. Teachers have the power to
extend any right to any lower order of staff as they see fit. The exception to this rule is bottoms, which
may not be penetrated unless girls have been certified by the head or deputy.
Clerical staff
- Limited rights. May administer
corporal punishment to girls.
Manual workers
- Physical contact permitted by invitation/authorisation only. May observe girls in any situation, including
bathrooms, changing rooms and dormitories, in order that they can report any
instances of morally deficient behaviour.
Granted powers of confiscation of prohibited items and articles of
personal clothing (including underwear).
Guests -
Privileges to be specified on the invitation form
All staff may
extend rights on an individual basis, for a limited period, to any staff on a
lower scale. Girls are free to extend
rights to any individual themselves, but cannot be forced to do so by staff not
granted those rights. Any violations of
this rule should be referred to a teacher.
The head teacher has the final say in any appeal.
3. Privacy is a
privilege, not a right. Only girls who
have been granted specific permission may use private facilities. As a rule, all ablutions and other functions
will be open to public observation.
The list went
on but Lucy's attention was fixed on the first two. What kind of place was this? She felt dazed and unable to concentrate on
the remainder of the extensive list of regulations.
She was
interrupted by the receptionist, who informed her that it was now time to go
and meet the head, who greeted all new arrivals personally. She wanted to refuse, to resist, but was so
terrified of the consequences that she put up no resistance, and meekly
followed as she was led through a grand hallway and up two ornate staircases to
the head's office.
The receptionist
knocked then entered to present her charge.
"Sir, may I present to you Lucy Hawkins".
The head, Mr
Thornton, looked to be about fifty. He
sat behind a grand desk, in front of a window which overlooked the main square
of the school below, and beyond it the woods and playing fields. Sitting in an armchair at the side of the
oak-panelled office, was the deputy, Mr Fitches.
"Lucy, my
dear, do come in. Please, take a
seat"
Lucy entered
and furtively glanced around for somewhere to sit. There was nowhere. Was she supposed to sit on the floor? She looked quizically from Thornton to
Fitches, then back again.
"Oh,
sorry, of course you're unfamiliar with the way things are done round
here. You can sit on Mr Fitches'
lap. We seem to be short of chairs
today!"
Thornton and
Fitches laughed at that. Fitches
uncrossed his legs and patted his knee, beckoning lucy to park her rear on it.
She hoped it
was a joke. It wasn't. She hesitated for a moment, then out of the
blue received an almighty slap across her buttocks from the receptionist. "Feisty one eh? you'll learn.
Do as you're told, you filthy little slapper! Just remember who owns the rights of access
to your arse now"
The
receptionist withdrew and closed the door.
"Oh don't worry about her", said Thornton, "she likes to
instil a bit of discipline into the new arrivals. Please, sit"
Scarcely
believing what she was doing, Lucy walked over and perched herself on the edge
of Fitches' knees. He was having none of
that. He put his arm round her waist and
pulled her backwards so that she was seated snugly on his lap. Straight away she could feel him breathing
heavily against the back of her neck, and undeneath her bottom there was the
unmistakeable feeling of a growing bulge in his trousers as his cock began to
stiffen. So far Lucy was in her own
clothes and was wearing a light green, summer blouse on top, with a pretty,
lacy bra underneath. Her lower parts
were concealed by a translucent pair of light white trousers, through which
were visible her thong, the top of which peeked out above the waistband. They were little protection against Fitches
cock, which now pressed firmly against her.
Thornton
launched into his welcome patter, well rehearsed. Welcome, rules, caring environment, strong
educational ethos blah blah he droned on.
It would have sounded quite normal had she not been sitting on the
deputy head's lap while this little speech was delivered. Fitches had one arm around her waist, and
with the other was stroking her shoulder-length blonde hair. It made her flesh crawl. This wasn't happening - it couldn't be!
"Right
Lucy, stand up please, let's have a look at you". She needed no second invitation to get off
Fitches' lap. As she did so she noticed
a very small damp patch where she had been sitting. She had a horrible feeling that he had
actually come in his pants. That wetness
certainly wasn't her doing. Soon after
getting up she almost wished she hadn't.
Thornton got up
and came round to her side of the desk.
With no warning he began to run his hands over her body, examining
her. Touching very gently he groped her
all over, making appreciative noises, while Fitches grinned in the
background. He put his hand up her
top. She pushed it away but it came
straight back, and he was too powerful for her.
He uncupped her breasts from her bra and seemed rather pleased with her
developing bosom. "Puffies",
he said to Fitches, with some satisfaction.
He took his time feeling her bottom.
The flimsy white trousers offered no protection against the wandering
hands, an with ease he put his hand down the back of her trousers and pulled at
her thong. Just when she thought she was
about to get fingered he stopped.
"Excellent
Lucy, I think you will fit in very well here.
Now, you need to have your appointment with the nurse then you can go
and settle into your room". He
picked up the phone and summoned an escort to take her away.
She had had
enough. "You can't do this",
she exploded at him. "It's filthy,
it's dirty, it's, it's - I'm only 14 for fuck sake! It's illegal!
I'm going to have you reported to the authorities, right up to the
Minister of Justice if I have to. You
dirty pervy bastards will be in prison for ever". As Lucy screamed hysterically at him Thornton
calmly reached into the top drawer of his desk and took out a book - a photo
album.
"Ever seen
the Minister of Justice?" he enquired.
"Yes I have!" she squealed.
Just because she was 14 it didn't mean she knew nothing about politics. Thornton flicked open the album and gave it
to her. The very first picture was of
the Minister himself. He was naked from
the waist down. A girl of Lucy's age
knelt before him. She had his penis in
his mouth. She turned the page in
disbelief. In the next picture the girl
was on all fours, completely naked. She
was sucking another cock this time - Thornton's. The Minister was kneeling behind her, also
naked. There was no gap between
them. It took no imagination to deduce
where his cock was.
She was
completely deflated. There was no escape
now. They were all in it together. Thornton and his mob were above the law. It was a sick joke. This place existed to corrupt morals, not to
protect them. Lucy had to get out of
here, fast.
A knock on the
door - the escort was here. Her will to
resist already waning, Lucy meekly left the room and allowed herself to be
taken down the corridor to where the nurse was waiting for her in the sick
bay. "Ah Lucy Hawkins, come in. Take a seat.
First things first, just a little injection under your skin - arm out
please - lasts six months. Make sure
only one of you came in and only one of you leaves us at the end. Can't have any accidents now! There.
Now, some basic details from you please...."
Still reeling
from the concept of contraception forming a part of her school induction (she
was already pretending to herself that it was to prevent her getting herself
into trouble, rather than allowing the staff to fuck her with impunity), Lucy
finally arrived at her living quarters.
It was a spacious, comfortable-looking dormitory with beds for three
girls. The beds were rather large and
she tried to blot out the thought that they were double beds. It looked quite homely. Clearly, whatever else went on in this place,
they weren't expected to live in squalor.
One of her new roommates was lying on one bed, on her front, reading a
book. Her white-socked feet casually rubbed against each other above her legs,
bent up at the knees and slightly apart.
The short school skirt barely covered her bottom and her panties were
quite clearly visible.
"Hi there,
I'm Jessica"
"Lucy"
"Why don't
you have Dominique's old bed - by the door.
She won't be needing it any more.
Besides, it'll help shield you from the pervs"
"What
happened to Dominique?" Lucy asked, in fear that some terrible fate had
befallen her.
"Oh,
nothing. It's just she sleeps with the
science teacher these days. Hasn't been
here in months. I miss her actually,
'specially at night. Be nice to have
some new company actually..."
Had Lucy not
been agog at the idea that a pupil could just go off and move in with a teacher
she might have cottoned on that the sort of company Jessica was after didn't
involve making small talk and listening to music. But she did pick up on something else Jessica
had said.
"What do
you mean about the pervs?"
"Well,see
that large mirror?" She gestured towards the far wall, which was largely
occupied by an enormous mirror. Lucy
nodded. "Two way. Viewing room on the other side. Apparently they supply the tissues."
Lucy was
disgusted. Unfortunately it was
absolutely true. It was a school rule
that privacy was not a right. In the
living quarters the girls could be continuously observed. Originally the walls had been perspex but
that had only encouraged them to be self conscious and careful about showing
anything as they undressed before an audience of salivating men. Fumbling under towels, or even getting
undressed in bed were the normal routine.
In time, with the mirrors, they tended to forget and couldn't be sure
whether anyone was there or not, though in the dead of night it was possible to
hear the rapid hand movements of vigorous masturbation. Eventually they lost their inhibitions and
just got on as though nobody could see.
Jessica knew one of the gardeners had followed her up and was almost
certainly looking straight up her skirt at this very moment. As the thought crossed her mind she opened
her legs a little wider and grabbed at her knickers to pull them out of her
bottom. She paused long enough that the
voyeur would get a good glimpse at her fanny.
Being situated furthest from the mirror Lucy would find it easier to
hide from them until inevitably she gave up trying and simply ignored them.
It was all too
much. Lucy slumped on the bed, put her
face in her hands and began to sob gently.
Jessica came over and put a friendly arm around her shoulder. The gardener hung around long enough to
ascertain they were not about to have sex, then sloped off, disappointed, back
to work.
Yes, Lucy
Hawkins had arrived at Marigold's Academy.
She would certainly be a different girl when she left it.
To be
continued.
Sophie, or to
use her full name, Lady Sopie Vanessa Elvingdon-Smythe, had spent her first
days at the academy indulging in willful resistance to the regime. Unbeknownst to her the real reason she had
been sent there had little, if anything to do with her being discovered half
dressed among the straw and the horses with the stable boy's penis in her
mouth. Although at fifteen she should
not be indulging in such behaviour, it was the multi-billion pound debts owed
by her father, Lord Elvingdon of Butterly, to some extremely powerful and
sinister people that had resulted in her incarceration here. Had he not agreed to the deal it was
possible, even likely that Sophie would now be enjoying much less comfortably
surroundings, accompanied by some truly terrifying people. Had she known this it just might have
persuaded her to be a little bit more cooperative with the staff.
At the Academy
she was already known simply as "The Princess".
She was tall
and regal. Had an artist been
commissioned to paint a portrait entitled "Beauty" her face would be
filling the canvas. Long dark brown hair
descended below her shoulders, exhibiting a sheen which could result only from
years of meticulous care. Her complexion
was pale but flawless. Her upper body,
slim but carrying two perfectly rounded C cup breasts with pleasingly pert
upturned nipples sitting on prominent areolar mounds, was supported by a
slightly more developed figure below the waistline. She had learned to ride horses almost before
she could walk, and those years in the saddle had endowed her with a firm,
rounded and muscular bottom with thighs to match. Mr Howard, the Geography master, who was well
known to enjoy such things was greatly looking forward to having Sophie sitting
on his face, once she had been "tamed".
It was that
bottom which was the subject of the situation in which she now found
herself. She had been brought before Mrs
Taylor, the matron, who had a fearsome reputation as a disciplinarian. The room was bare, save for a single chair in
the centre of the wooden floor, and a table on which were laid several
unappetising implemets - a cane, a tawse, and a slender leather whip. Next to those was a laptop computer on which a screensaver extolling the
virtues of the Academy was playing, complete with sickly sweet and wholly false
mission statement. Accompanying Mrs
Taylor was Farringdon, the head porter.
What the hell was he doing here?
"So
Smythe, it seems it has fallen to me to make you see sense."
Sophie was
scared of this woman but determined not to show it.
"You'll
never break me! See what happened to the last teacher who tried it on",
she said defiantly.
Her posh
exterior concealed a fierce fighting spirit which would not have been out of
place on the toughest of estates. He had
been bitten, scratched, had his eyes gouged and kneed so hard in the groin that
he had ended up in the sick bay.
"Yes, poor
Peters. You'll regret that very soon
young lady. Farringdon," she turned
to her assistant, "remind us what happened to the last girl who didn't
think the rules applied to her."
Farringdon
fixed Sophie with an evil grin, "as I recall she spent a morning in the
kennels learning the true meaning of the word 'bitch' ".
The defiant
facade faltered as the meaning of what he had said sunk in. "No way, you wouldn't stoop so
low!"
Taylor nodded
at Farringdon. He touched the keyboard
and the screensaver was replaced by a video.
A sobbing girl was chained on all fours,
her naked backside in the air.
She was pleading and promising to do as she was told, but a cold
disembodied voice from off screen told her that it was too late for that. Barking was heard and a large black labrador
entered from the right, straining at his leash.
The handler's hand was seen to unclip it and the dog eagerly rushed
forwards and began sniffing around the girl's arse, then it started to lick her
genitals. A hand reached between its
legs and began to massage its penis, which quickly became erect. Despite her disgust the girl was ashamed to
find that the feel of the warm, wet tongue lapping at her pussy was quite
pleasant and she was visibly struggling to conceal moans of pleasure. However, this was quickly replaced by horror
when she realised that the dog was trying to mount her.
Sophie
screamed, "Enough, turn it off!
I'll do whatever you want, please don't take me there, anything"
"That's
more like it", Taylor said with satisfaction, closing the lid of the
laptop as she did so, "now you have been extremely naughty since you have
been with us and I am going to have to soundly punish you. Then you will go and apologise to poor Mr
Peters. First I am going to spank your
bottom, then I'm afraid it's going to have to be the cane"
Sophie didn't
fear the spanking. The pain of the cane
she could handle. But she was desperate
that they did not discover the effects of a caning on her. Still, anything was better than a morning
with the dogs.
Taylor sat down
on the chair, smoothed her tweed skirt then indicated that Sophie should lie
across her lap. Farringdon moved round
so that he could see straight up Sophie's rather short school skirt. All of the girls had to wear very short
skirts. Sophie had intended to refuse
but they had removed all of her other clothes and the only other option was to
walk around in her knickers.
As Mrs Taylor's
firm hand began to rain down on her bum she couldn't see Farringdon behind her
with his hand inside his pocket, moving rhythmically. Like most of the male lower order staff he
had one poket with a hole in the bottom.
When one of the girls needed something, like a key to a storeroom, they
would usually have to put their hands into the porter's pocket for it. They wouldn't know until they did so which
side the hole was on, and many a time had they been rewarded with sticky
fingers instead of what they were looked for.
After a few
cursory slaps on Sophie's skirt Mrs Taylor moved swiftly on to lift it,
exposing her firm, curvaceous arse to the gloating man standing behind
her. Before she had a chance to become
more embarrassed she was shocked to find herself being fingered by the woman
who was suppose to be punishing her.
Taylor molested her for a minute or so in silence then continued with
the spanking as though nothing had happened.
Sophie was wearing pale blue bikini-style panties, which were gently
eased down to her knees before Mrs Taylor continued smacking her bare bottom.
After a few
stinging smacks on each buttock Sophie's cheeks were nicely warm, as red as her
face. It was time for her to be
caned. As Farringdon lazily stroked the
log in his pocket Taylor had Sophie walk round to the desk, where she was made
to bend over and grip the edge, her feet apart, skirt folded neatly up on her
back. Taylor had her panties off
completely and placed them on the far side of the desk. Had she looked behind her she would have seen
the porter whisk them off and slip them into his pocket - the one with the hole
in it.
Taylor picked
up the swishy cane and whipped it through the air, giving the familiar sound
that out Sophie on edge. "Right, my
little Princess, I am going to give you twelve.
I believe it's traditional for you to count them out."
She raised her
arm then brought the cane firmly down across both buttocks simultaneously. Sophie squealed at the pain, but remained
composed. "One, thank you
miss"
"Oh,
someone knows the lingo! Very
good." she smiled.
Yelp. "Two thank you miss"
Sophie couldn't
help it, however hard she tried. She had
had only five strokes but it was happening already. Farringdon noticed first.
"Er, Mrs
Taylor, I think you should come and have a look at this..." He gestured towards Sophie's arse. Taylor looked quizzically at him then peered
at the gap between her legs. Sophie was
wet - that is dripping wet. A few drops
of juice from her pussy had even landed on the floor between her feet.
Taylor peered
round and looked in amazement. Sophie
bit her lip and tried to control herself but it was no use. She felt the matron put a hand on each cheek
and move them apart so that she could see better. Sophie's vulva was glistening with creamy
white fluid. Farringdon's face was
transfixed. He'd even momentarily
stopped masturbating. Taylor beat her
twice more...six..seven...then looked again.
Yes, she was oozing more cream.
Then she slipped her hand under the girl's breast, to find her nipple
rock solid, poking through her blouse.
Sophie knew now
she had been found out and decided not to pretend any more. She turned to Taylor and almost whispered in
a small, meek voice, "If you want to really get me going miss I suggest
you use the whip instead."
It had started when Sophie and her sister were
spying through the keyhole of the butler's quarters. They were astonished to catch him in the act
of chastising one of the maids. Sophie
was intrigued because the girl seemed to be enjoying herself as he whipped her
across the buttocks. Her sister had
given the game away with her stupid loud giggling and they had run away when he
heard them and was heading for the door as the maid hastily pulled up her
knickers. Curious to know why a girl
should enjoy being beaten with a whip she had contrived a situation in which
she had transgressd to the extent that the butler was going to have to tell
daddy. She offered to let him spank her
bum if he kept quiet. He thought it a
cruel joke at first but she went through with it and by the time she had
cajoled him into using the whip she was craving the pain and humiliation. After that she made regular visits. Eventually she stopped slipping back to her
room to wank afterwards and did it right there white he watched, quickly
discovering that he had been relieving himself in similar fashion after she'd
gone. She never let him touch her
though, not there anyway. She had been
desperate for these people not to discover her weakness but now she was too far
gone to care.
Taylor's hands
almost quivered as she lifted the whip, staring in wonder at Sophie's
behind. A few slaps and a little rub of
each cheek, then she lifted it, drew her arm back, then sent it whistling
through the air until it whipped across both buttocks at once. Sophie yelped in pain, as a bright red weal
began to rise on her bottom. As she did
so, a small dribble of fluid dripped from her glistening vulva onto the floor
beneath. Encouraged by this, Taylor hit
her again, harder this time. Sophie
sighed this time, her eyes closed. She
dripped again. A small puddle was
forming on the floor between her feet.
Taylor stopped whipping and fingered Sophie again. Sophie's knees buckled slightly - she was so
on edge now she feared she was going to come.
She turned to
Farringdon, who was mesmerised.
"Well don't just stand there man, stop wanking and go and fetch
Peters to come and fuck this bitch!"
Peters was
about to get his own back in style, then Farringdon would be rewarded with
sloppy seconds.
By the time the
heavily-perspiring Farringdon returned with Peters Sophie had abandoned all
hint of resistance. She was bent over
the desk, her feet wide apart, with bright red weals all over her buttocks. Taylor was no longer beating her with the
whip. Taylor was on her knees behind
Sophie, with her face buried deep in between her cheeks. Taylor's face glistened with pussy cream as
she lapped at Sophie's vagina. The whip,
or rather its handle, had largely disappeared up Taylor's own fanny. Peters couldn't believe his eyes. He paused a moment to take in the scene but
then sprang into action. He almost fell
flat on his face in his frantic efforts to remove his trousers and pants. As he approached, Taylor looked up at him
almost drunkenly and suggested, "I strongly advise that you fuck the shit
out of her"
By now Peters
had a firm erection. Sophie was about to
discover where he earned his nickname "Girth". It was of fairly average length but fat,
really really fat. Brace yourself
Princess, there's a big, fat teacher's cock coming to teach you some hard
lessons.
Despite
Sophie's exceptionally well-lubricated pussy, even after Taylor had drunk her
fill, it was a tight squeeze. Farringdon
helpfully (and all too eagerly) assisted by parting her buttocks while Taylor
guided him to the entrance. With much
pushing and panting he was finally in.
He grabbed hold of her hips and began to thrust in and out. It hurt, and Sophie moaned in both pleasure
and pain. It also hurt each time he
slapped against her well-whipped backside.
She relaxed and
he was able to penetrate her up to the hilt.
Faster and faster he thrusted until he began to cum. Sophie buckled at the knees as she felt his
semen pump into her. He kept going as it
filled her. Spent, he pulled out. Taylor immediately went to work, sucking the
last drops from the end of his waning member.
As she did so she looked up at Farringdon, giving him a little
wink. It was a shame that the headmaster
had not authorised anal penetration for Sophie.
It was a strict rule that none of the girls could be buggered unless he
removed the restriction. It gave him
enormous power over them, as they knew that there was a limit to how far they
could dare challenge the system.
His time had
come.
It wasn't often
that the lower order staff had the chance to acually fuck the girls, not
unless they could persuade one to let
them do it to her. There were one or two
girls at the school who would indulge the porters, gardeners and caretakers in
return for favours of some kind, but most relished the fact that at least some
of the men around here did not have carte blanche to take liberties.
Farringdon
eagerly pulled off his trousers and threw them in a heap, with Sophie's
knickers still in his pocket. His cock
was still hard, despite the fact that he had spent much of the recent past
wanking over the sight of Sophie being spanked, whipped, licked and
fucked. Sloppy seconds it was
indeed. Sophie's fanny still dripped
with the spuck that Peters had deposited in there. It was a disgusting mess, but it was too good
an opportunity to miss. Taylor,
fortunately, obligingly licked up much of it then went round to french kiss
Sophie while Farringdon entered her from behind. Peters had recovered and was sitting gently
stroking his own back to life as he muttered encouragement to Farringdon to
make sure he gave her a good seeing to.
Farringdon needed no encouragement.
He was having the time of his life as he pounded her. She was strong and muscular, but no match for
him. He piled in and out of her
mercilessly until eventually she screamed and her legs turned to jelly. She came hard and he did too. Sophie received her second load of
semen. Farringdon pulled out and
finished off the rest down her legs. She
collapsed in a heap, where Taylor moved in and cradled her head in her
arms. "There Sophie, you're a good
girl really, aren't you"
That night
Sophie was missing from her dormitory.
She was learning how Taylor could make her life at the school so much
more pleasant.....by assisting Taylor with her own disgusting needs.
To be continued....
Nicolette
Nicolette
Fitzsimmons had arrived at the school in much the same circumstances as most of
the other girls here. Aged just 13 she
had been sacrificed in order to spare the career of her father, a high ranking
police officer, who had become involved in various illegal activities, which
had eventually led to his coming to the attention of the powerful forces behind
Marigold's Academy. But Nicolette was
not like the other girls. Rather than
attempting to rebel against the system, before finally admitting defeat and
confroming to it, Nicolette had rapidly come to the conclusion that if she was
smart then she could turn the system to her advantage, and become part of the
system itself. And so she had.
In every prison
there were trustees, inmates who were considered sufficiently trustworthy to be
given some responsibility over other prisoners.
At Marigold's there were marshalls, prefects and presiding over them
all, the head girl. From the outset
Nicolette had worked out that if she conceded to some of the demands of the
teachers that she found that she could control their advances to an
extent. It was almost as though since
she was less of a challenge they found less satisfaction in pursuing her and
concentrated their efforts on the wilfully disobedient. From the outset her card was marked, and
gradually as the staff began to trust her they shifted their emphasis from
seeking to take advantage of her sexually, to using her as a means of
subjugating the other girls. By the end
of her second year she had been appointed one of the youngest marshalls the
school had seen. The following year she
made prefect. Now, at 18, she was the
head girl. Although she was due to leave
at the end of this year and return to the real world, she and the hierarchy
knew that she was likely to remain and move finally to being a member of the
staff herself.
Nicolette did not
care much for the attentions of the dirty old men who were in charge of this
place, and had little but contempt for the lower order staff whom she
considered inferior beings (though it had not deterred her from granting them a
few favours along the way when it suited her purpose and helped futher her
"career" at Marigold's).
Nicolette was a lesbian. She had
had her share of unpleasant, but necessary experiences in that arena as well,
allowing herself to be used as a sexual plaything for some of the dirty dykes
among the teachers. Now she had earned
herself a position in which it was her own lusts that were being
satisfied. Today it was the turn of Emma
Hughes and Helen Kent.
Emma and Helen
had been caught smoking. Inevitably
smoking was against the rules. In
reality it was allowed to go on, if only to give the staff an excuse to punish
girls who took their fancy. Today was no
exception. We will learn later how Helen
and Emma obtained their cigarettes. Now
we will see what happens to them when they face the head girl.
Hughes and Kent
had not been selected at random. The
prefect who had detained them had spent several days, on the orders of the head
girl, searching for an opportunity to bring them before her. They had to slip up eventually, and they
did. So far these two had managed to
confine their activities to dealing with lecherous men. Now they were to be initiated into an altogether
different world. So there they stood,
trembling in front of the desk in the head girl's study. The sting had ended in the late evening. Both girls were in their night clothes, in
almost matching short cotton shorts, and t-shirts bearing the logos of their
favourite pop bands. Both wore dressing
gowns. Emma sported a pair of very large
fluffy slippers, in the shape of a well-known cartoon cat. Helen had rainbow
ankle socks, and nothing else on her feet.
Nicolette was
well-known for her long, dark brown hair, which reached half way down her
back. She had a pale, smooth complexion,
with a classically pretty, slightly freckled face. Her bust was quite overdeveloped, but
completely natural. She was not the
slimmest of girls - well proportioned in fact, certainly not overweight. At 15, Emma and Helen were less mature than
Nicolette. Emma had mousey hair and
quite elfin features, and a fairly small mouth with quite pert lips (which
looked remarkably arousing when wrapped around a thick penis). Helen's hair was jet black, shoulder
length. She was rather petite. The girls looked the picture of youthful
innocence, though inevitably they had been corrupted by Marigold's. As head girl Nicolette was not tied to
uniform but wore her own clothes. She
wore a white blouse, through which her lacy bra was visible, a knee-length navy
blue skirt and her legs were encased in stockings, held up by a black suspender
belt which complemented her lace black and pale green panties.
Nicolette was
exquisite, immaculate. Her nails were
polished and bore intricate designs, which she could only obtain by exercising
her privileges to leave the school grounds and go into the outside world. She was trusted. Her lips were glossy and pouting; not
overdone, but just enough to look sexy without being plain. As she eyed the two trembling teenagers in
front of her she casually ran the tip of her tongue over those lips and
indulged in a little contemplation of what she was about to do to them
both. Sat in the corner, in her school
uniform with prefect's insignia, was Melanie Fawcett-Jones, the prefect who had
apprehended the two miscreants. She had done well, and Nicolette would ensure
that she was well-rewarded. Reflecting
Nicolette's own preferences and pecadilloes, Melanie was also a lesbian, as
were a significant proportion of the other prefects. Hughes and Kent were both as straight as a
Roman road, and found the concept of sleeping with other girls quite repugnant. Melanie loved these situations. She knew what an evil little bitch Nicolette
could be when she put her mind to it, and she had been particularly keen to
ensnare these two so there was going to be a lot of fun in store. As she uncrossed and crossed her legs she felt
a little damp patch developing in the front of her panties.
As Nicolette sat
behind the desk, peering at them through her highly-stylish spectacles, she
looked them up and down, and then spoke.
"So, Hughes,
what have you to say for yourself"
Emma gulped, but
could find no words. She was
terrified. She was worried that she was
going to wet herself.
"Kent?"
Helen almost
jumped out of her skin when her name was called. She mumbled something.
"Sorry, what
was that girl?" Nicolette snapped.
"I'm....we're
sorry....er, miss", Helen muttered in a rather small voice.
"You're
sorry? Oh yes, I really believe that you
are, but only because you've been caught.
You're sorry about what is about to happen to you. Melanie, spank them - that one first",
she gestured towards Emma.
Emma began to
cry.
Melanie spoke,
"Oh, shut up you silly cow, don't be such a baby. I haven't even touched you yet. You'll have plenty to cry about when I've
finished so you can save your tears for then".
Emma tried to
control her blubbing, and failed miserably.
"Oh pull
yourself together Hughes. Alright, do
Kent first", said Nicolette with mock exasperation.
Emma bit her lip
and tried to be brave. It wasn't a
painful bottom she was concerned about, it was what she knew would follow.
Nicolette turned
her chair sideways and put her feet, crossed, up on the desk. She began to idly file her nails with an
emery board as her sidekick began to punish the two naughty girls, one by one. Melanie moved her chair into the centre of
the room and turned it sideways so that Nicolette would have a good view. As Emma looked on, Helen was led to the chair
and ordered across Melanie's knee.
Melanie kept her there for a few seconds as she detailed what was coming
next (as though it were not obvious), then she delivered the first smacks on
Helen's bottom. The short shorts were
little protection for Helen's cheeks, but Melanie left them in place
nonetheless. Helen's bottom quivered
delightfully as the hand landed on it, and Nicolette, feigning disinterest as
she manicured herself, enjoyed the spectacle.
Melanie spanked Helen with increasing force, but she took it well. As well as her bottom she also received
smacks on the back of her legs. Still leaving the shorts on, Melanie pulled
them up so they wedgied up her crack and exposed more bare skin. Once Helen's flesh had turned a pleasing
crimson shade she was allowed to get up, and sent to stand in the corner, with
her hands on her head.
Emma had managed
to compose herself and managed to commence her own spanking without losing her
composure. As Melanie began to smack her
bottom Nicolette looked up from her nails and took a little more interest in
proceedings. She wanted Emma and she
generally got what she wanted around here.
She was so girly, what with her big fluffy slippers (which fell
comically to the floor as she wriggled in Melanie's lap) and her innocent
demeanour. Of course Emma was not quite
so innocent as she came across, not going by what she had been up to with some
of the lower order staff, but she had more fulfilled the role of a prick tease
until now. Nicolette suspected that she
would readily accept the option of being fucked by a nice big cock right now,
rather than go through what Nicolette had in store for her. Emma was grateful that she too retained her
shorts, as she did not relish the idea of Nicolette feasting her eyes in Emma's
private parts as her deputy bitch slapped her arse a deep shade of red.
Presently it was
over. Duly spanked and contrite, Emma
was sent to stand next to Helen. Melanie
went over to them both and wedgied them again, so that their glowing cheeks
were nicely visible. "So, we can be
assured that you'll not be found smoking again?", enquired the head
girl. They both nodded vigorously,
believing they were about to be released.
Nicolette enjoyed the moment, before crushing their hopes.
"Mr Thornton
is holding one of his special parties on Friday night. He wants a couple of
girls to host the guests. I thought you
two would do nicely".
Emma's blood ran
cold. Thornton's parties were
legendary. From time to time the
headmaster would invite his wealthy and influential friends to the school,
where he would entertain them as honoured guests. One of the perks that his guests enjoyed was
that they would be served by a small selection of pupils. At the start of these events the girls would
be performing mundane functions such as serving up drinks and canapes. But it would not be long before the situation
would change into one in which they were being groped, fondled and drooled over
by dirty old men (and sometimes women).
Some of these men were in their sixties and seventies, and would eagerly
take advantage of their unfettered access to these young teenagers. Some had special requests and it tended to be
very much the younger girls who were allocated to the parties. The 13 and 14 year olds were particularly
popular for these events. The girls
invariably wound up being fucked during the evening, though mercifully some of
the men were no longer physically up to it in any meaningful sense, though it
would not deter them from using the girls' hands and mouths to try and breathe
some life into their waning organs.
However, some of the younger guests, rich businessmen in their forties
and fifties, had no such difficulties.
For particularly favoured guests Thornton had been know to grant rear
access to selected girls, which resulted in them being not only gang-banged but
also buggered. He tended not to allow
such extremes with the younger ones, but by fifteen they were certainly fair
game. Emma and Helen would rather die
than be sent to one of Thornton's orgies.
A small puddle
was slowly soaking itself into the carpet.
Emma had wet herself. As the warm
trickle of wee made it down the inside of her thigh she hung her head in shame
and began to cry again. Melanie noticed
first. "Er, Nicolette....Hughes has
just peed her pants." Nicolette
looked in disbelief. She didn't usually
get that sort of reaction. Actually it
was quite funny but she couldn't show that.
"Oh, for fuck's sake Hughes.
You are such a cry baby! Look at
what you've done to my carpet. That is
really going to cost you. Right, take
off your bottoms and go and stand outside the door, facing the wall". The crestfallen Emma was made to remove her
wet shorts. She felt very exposed now,
with her pussy finally on view to the other girls. She tried to hide it with
her hand. Melanie took the wet garment
from her and took her into the corridor, where she was made to stand
half-naked. She desperately hoped there
were not too many blue collar staff around at that time of night - or teachers
for that matter. Nicolette ordered Helen
to clean up the mess while Melanie got on the internal phone to the porters'
lodge. Someone would be straight up to
collect the wet shorts and take them for washing. Actually they wouldn't be washed. They would be sold in the staff room the next
morning and Emma would not be seeing them again. The porter who arrived could not believe his
luck. Not only did he get an eyeful of
Emma with her red bum and pussy mound on show but he also got himself a
valuable garment which would fund his drinking for the coming weekend. He knew just who would be interested, and
would pay handsomely. Not everyone's cup
of tea, but there were people who liked that sort of thing. Had Emma previously realised how much she
could get just for wetting her panties she might have tried that one already
with the lads. Still, her appetite for
cigarettes and other contraband had waned somewhat during the past hour.
As Emma stood
cringing in the corridor, furtively glancing left and right for an expected
horde of drooling male voyeurs, Helen emerged from the door of the study. She had been despatched to the utility room
for some items with which to clean up the mess.
She looked sympathetically at her friend. She dared not hang around and risk the wrath
of the senior girls, but she did pause briefly to offer some words of comfort
to her friend. "Hey babe, I'm
sorry. Look, if it's anything to you I
was about to shit myself in there when they mentioned that party. You just don't wanna go there. They obviously want something out of us in
return for not sending us to be sacrificed for Thornton's pervy friends. Whatever it is I reckon we should give it it
'em". Emma was contrite and
apologetic. "I'm sorry I let you
down in there....and for you having to clean up an' that. I couldn't help it - I was just too
scared". Helen gave a friendly
touch on Emma's hand then hurried away to complete her errand.
Inside the study
Melanie beamed a broad grin at Nicolette and stifled a giggle. "You wicked cow Nic! You scared the shit out of 'er! You fancy her, don't you?" The hard act was dropped and Nicolette's
demeanour softened. "Yeah Mel, you got
me in one. Emma's going to be mine. She doesn't know it yet but it's
sorted."
"So, do I
get the other one then?" asked Mel
"What? I've already let you spank my girlfriend -
don't push your luck or I'll have you parting your arse for the grandads next
week. Maybe I want both for a little
meage a trois. Anyway, I've not quite
finished with them yet, but maybe I won't be quite so nasty. Frankly I really just want to shag her. It's just sje needs a bit of encouragement to
come over to the dark side."
After Helen had
returned with the cleaning materials and restored the carpet to a respectable
condition Emma was called back in. She
hadn't expected to ever feel grateful to go back into that room but she felt
very exposed in the corridor. At least
she was back out of public view.
Niclolette had her Head Girl face on again and took up where she had
left off. "Melanie, please take
young Hughes here to my private bathroom and let her clean herself
up". Although most girls had no
choice but to use the viewable washrooms, it went without saying that the head
girl had private facilites. Nicolette's
bathroom was adjacent to the study, with her bedroom on the other side. It was a nice little setup. As Melanie showed Emma in, Nicolette
continued to goad Helen. She was really
enjoying it, telling lurid tales of some of the repulsive goings on at
Thornton's parties, which the two girls were soon to be participating in. Helen knew it was all for show and just
wanted to get on and discover the forfeit. In the bathroom Emma felt a strange sense of
calm, probably because it was the first time for months that she had been able
to have a decent shower without having to wear a bikini to keep the eyes of men
from her body, or get up in the dead of night and hope that nobody else was
desperate enough to be hanging around for a look. The girls couldn't even get into routines,
since they would soon become common knowledge and ensure a crowd of onlookers
whenever they turned up to wash. Melanie
left her alone to shower. While looking
for a towel she opened the top of a chest of storage drawers next to the
cubicle and then quickly shut it again, but not before she had taken in the
sight of a number of penis-shaped plastic and rubber items, with straps on
them. It took little imagination to work
out what those were for. The only
question was who wore them (she could guess) and who was generally on the
receiving end. She tried not to think
too hard about the second question.
Emma enjoyed her
shower, but was rudely brought back to reality when Melanie reappeared to tell
her to hurry up. Her clothes had gone
and she had to return to the study wrapped in only a towel. As she stood, fidgeting, next to Helen,
Nicolette finally got to the point.
"OK girls, let's cut the crap.
I know what you two are like, coming over all sweet and innocent. I mean, shagging the gardeners for a few
fags..."
"Not
shagging!", Helen blurted out, immediately regretting it. Nicolette looked askance at her.
"Sorry
Miss", she continued, more quietly, "I....we...have never shagged
anyone. Not ever. We did - you know, stuff with them but my
cherry's never been.....popped. So to
speak." Her voice tailed off at the
end of the sentence and she stood there, nervously looking at the floor.
"Stuff
huh?", said Nicolette, "So you're telling me you two are both
virgins".
In unison they
nodded.
Nicolette was
delighted with this snippet of information, specifically with regard to
Emma. So the girl had never been tainted
with some grubby little cock. Nicolette
would see to it that that situation continued.
"Right,
here's the deal. I save you from being
thrown to the lions, and you two....miscreants....do exactly as we say, here
and now". The girls looked silently
at her, implying that she continue.
Nicolette got up and walked round the desk, as two pairs of eyes
followed her every move. Melanie, back
in the corner, felt her knickers getting wet again. Nicolette surprised them by removing her
skirt and sitting on the edge of the desk.
The she pushed herself back onto the top and dangled one leg over the
front, the other spread wide on the desk.
She still wore her high heeled shoes and stockings. Now it was clear what was coming. As Emma's mouth ran dry, Nicolette hooked a
finger into the gusset of her panties and pulled them to one side. Emma gulped.
Helen felt faint. Mel got
wetter. To the casual observer,
Nicolette's vagina was rather attractive, as vaginas go. Like the rest of her it was neat and
immaculate. Not quite bald. A carefully styled wisp of hair rose above
the midline. "OK Emma, come here
and lick my fanny". She had already
pissed herself. Now she wanted to
puke. She didn't move. Nicolette began to muse about exactly which
perverts were going to be at the party.
Emma gave in, walked tentatively forward, and obediently knelt on the
floor in front of Nicolette. She looked
at her next meal, then closed her eyes to think of England. Nicolette felt a buzz as Emma moved her face
closer then finally poked her tongue out as little as she could manage and made
contact with Nicolette's labia.
Nicolette sighed in approval and bade her to continue. Gingerly, Emma began her task, licking tentatively
up and down, and trying desperately not to wretch. "Come on girl, do it as though you mean
it!"
"I'm
sorry", wheedled Emma, "I'm trying, really I am"
"Melanie,
come and give her some encouragement"
Melanie got up
and came over. She knelt beside Emma,
with her face right in Emma's ear, and began to wax lyrical about how she would
find it hard to walk after groper Gregory had stuffed his fat cock up her
arse. Emma got the message and began to
perform cunnilingus properly.
It wasn't that
bad actually.
Actually, it
tasted quite good.
The thought of
being a dyke was worse than the reality of doing it with one it seemed. Emma began to relax and, with Nicolette
seeming to approve of her performance, she ran her tongue more liberally around
the vulva. "Helen, don't just stand
there - Melanie is waiting, can't you see?"
And so it
was. Helen was required to repeat on
Melanie everything that Emma was having to do to Nicolette. As it happened, Helen was in the habit of
licking her own fingers when she masturbated in bed at night, so she was not
quite so new to the taste, though Melanie tasted a little different. Melanie was finding it difficult to contain
herself.
Nicolette reached
down and pulled off Emma's towel, so that she was completely naked. Helen still had her pyjamas on. Melanie had started to rub at her breasts
through the flimsy top, poking her fingers in the eyes of the boy band pop star
depicted thereon. Emma was getting more
into her task now, and having got over the initial shock was not finding it
particularly unpleasant. She wasn't
exactly enjoying it but not hating it either.
It was preferable to the alternative.
As she licked, Nicolette reached a finger down and began to rub gently
at the top of her slit. Emma actually
didn't know much about the clitoris, but she would be very familiar with it
before long. Of course she played with
herself sometimes, but she really was quite naive about such matters. After a reluctant start, Emma was now pushing
her tongue right into Nicolette's pussy.
Nicolette had started to stroke her face and run her hands through
Emma's hair. Melanie found time during
her own enjoyment to glance over at Emma's naked bum, the red glow now
receding. She didn't expect there would
be another opportunity to spank it.
Nicolette stood
Emma up, and sat square on at the edge of the desk. She put her arms round Emma and pulled her
close, wrapping her legs around Emma's back.
She put her lips up to Emma's then pushed her tongue deep into Emma's mouth. There was no resistance. The two kissed long and deep, then Nicolette
looked over to Mel and said, "Take that one to bed with you now. I think we could do with some
privacy". As Melanie and Helen
began to make themselves decent and head for the door Nicolette stopped
them. "Wait - Helen come
here". What now, Helen thought. Nicolette pehrtu arms around Helen's waist and kissed her
deeply. Then she patted her on the bum
and said "Off you go now...have fun".
As the door closed behind her friend Emma felt a bit strange. She was alone now, completely naked, with the
head girl, who was about to sleep with her.
How the hell did this happen?
Nicolette's whole attitude had changed.
She was more friendly - very friendly now. She took Emma by the hand and led her through
into her living quarters. Aside from the
bathroom and bedroom she also had a sitting room and a small kitchenette. She sat herself down in a comfy armchair and
had the naked Emma sit on her lap.
"OK Emma, I'll square with you.
I'm not forcing you to stay the night but I want you to, and I promise I
will get bitter if you don't. And you
don't want to cross me. Remember the
party. If that sounds like blackmail
then I suppose it is. This is
Marigold's. not a holiday camp. But I'll
make you a promise. Tomorrow morning, if
you want out you can walk out of that door and I will leave you be, no hard
feelings. Deal?"
It was a fair
offer and Emma readily accepted. One
night of being a sexual plaything for the schools uber-dyke, then the head girl
was off her case. Permanently. Well, why not? Nicolette offered Emma a drink. She asked for orange juice and was told to
ask for a proper drink. "What, you
mean like..." Nicolette proudly
went over to a cupboard and demonstrated that she could indeed come up with a
vodka and tonic. She threw the door open
wide so Emma could see what was inside.
As well as an impressive stock of booze there were enough cigarettes to
smoke a whole army to death. What was a
better way of getting her fix? Wanking
off the janitor or going down on the head girl.
As Emma accepted the alcohol she quipped, "so are you getting me
drunk now so you can fuck me?"
Nicolette looked puzzled.
"I've seen your collection of toys in the bathroom. How do you want me - doggy style or
missionary?" Nicolette
laughed. No, she had no intention of
aping a man tonight. She was going to
show Emma the true delights of sapphic love.
She knew Emma was straight and she couldn't change that, but she
reckoned by the time she reached morning she would be open to the idea of being
bisexual. Nicolette, becoming
increasingly girly by the minute, took Emma's glass gently and placed it on the
table. She snogged her again then
removed her bra. Her nipples were
absolutely solidly erect. Emma took the
cue and took one in her mouth, which seemed to please Nicolette no end. Emma's own breasts remained stubbornly
unaroused. After playing around in the
breast area Nicolette suggested they go into the bedroom. Emma thought she was about to be put back to
work eating out the older girl. Instead
Nicolette arranged two pillows in the centre of the bed and had Emma lie over
them, face down, so they supported her pelvis, with her bottom sticking up in
the air. She put on some soft music and
dimmed the lights. Then she srtoked the
back of Emma's neck and told her to just lie there and enjoy it, let herself
go, don't think about being gay or straight, just feel.
Emma was nicely
relaxed now. Even so, her whole body
began to tingle when she felt Nicolette's warm breath on the inside of her
thigh. Kisses followed and she found
herself willing them to go higher, which they slowly did, further and further
up towards her genitalia. Then Nicolette
kissed her fanny. It was magic. Next Nicolette kissed her bottom! On both cheeks. Gently, lovingly, all the while stroking her
legs. Then the stroking fingers brushed
against her labia and she shuddered.
Quite unexpectedly she felt herself getting wet, and could hear a
slightly obscene squelching noise as Nicolette
began to finger her. It was true,
she really was a virgin. She was very
tight. With Emma optimally positioned
and relaxed Nicolette moved round and lay down between Emma's legs, with her
raised bottom presenting a perfect target for the tongue which started to
expertly lick at her pussy. Emma found
the feeling indescribable and as the juice began to flow Nicolette lapped it
up. Then something quite unanticipated
happened. Nicolette pulled out and moved
up a couple of inches. Suddenly she was
licking Emma's arse - her anus, to be precise.
The feeling was unbelievable.
Emma had never experienced anything like it before. Round and round her puckered ring the tongue
darted, then, even more unexpectedly, the head girl pushed her tongue up Emma's
bum! It drove her wild. She screamed with delight, then tried to
stifle her cries lest someone heard her.
Nicolette was spurred on by this and gave Emma a thorough rimming. It was too much. It made Emma come, long and hard - the first
orgasm of her life. She ad played with
herself for sure, but didn't really know what to do and had never gone all the
way. Now she spasmed and shuddered all
over, and oozed a little jet of creamy white fluid, which Nicolette caught on
her lips, which she licked with relish.
It was going to
be a long night.
Helen was also
going to have a long, and interesting night.
When Melanie had got her back to her room, Melanie's roommate, Anna, had
decided that she was not going to miss out on the action. At this moment Helen was the filling in a 3
girl sandwich, lubricated with baby oil rather than butter. Frankly, Melanie would have happily smeared
her in butter and eaten her for breakfast, she was so delicious. Unlike the headgirl, prefects did not have
their own rooms, but they did only have to share a double room rather than a
dormitory. They also did not benefit
from the privacy that the head girl enjoyed.
Consequently their activities had attracted a small audience of night
staff, among whom word had spread quickly that there was a show on. They had done their best to obscure the view
through the two-way mirror but there was still plenty of space through which to
see. The bed covers were all over the
floor. Melanie lay on her back, with
Helen on top of her, sliding back and forth, their breasts rubbing together,
the oil heightening the sensation of nipple against nipple. Their mouths were welded together in a deep
long kiss. Anna was lying on top of
Helen, bringing herself off against Helen's back and bottom, with one hand
between Helen's legs. Helen was also
very tight and could only admit one, or two fingers at the most.
Epilogue:
It was a
beautiful dawn. The red sun streamed
through the open window, it's rays separated by the sparse cloud on the horizon
of an otherwise clear sky. The chatter
of songbirds completed the atmosphere.
Marigold's was deep in the countryside.
Nicolette lay propped up in bed, covered only by a sheet, through which
her nipples were quite visible. Emma
walked back in from the kitchenette, carrying two cups of coffee, once again
wrapped in a towel after an invigorating shower. "Sit down honey", said Nicolette,
patting the bed beside her, "this is where you get to choose, as I
promised. You can walk out of that door,
right now, and I promise I, and my gang, will never bother you again. We won't protect you, but we'll leave you
alone. Or you can come back to bed. If you decide to stay, then you are mine, and
mine only". Emma looked at the
door, and freedom. Then she put down her
coffee, climbed under the sheet, and began to flick her tongue over Nicolette's
clitoris. She had learned a lot that
night. As Nicolette sighed with pleasure
Emma looked up and said, "I'll need to call in sick this morning, or
Fitches will get me". "Don't
worry, said Nicolette, I've already done it". "You crafty cow - you knew I'd
stay"
So it was that
Emma became Nicolette's girlfriend. The
head girl had a very efficient bush telegraph and by lunchtime it was common
knowledge around the school that Emma Hughes was off limits. Nobody would dare lay a finger on her now,
and even the teachers respected the unwritten rule that Nicolette's special
friend was untouchable. Nicolette
realised that Emma was not a lesbian, and said that she would allow her to
continue tasting the odd cock now and then, as long as Nicolette knew what she
was up to. But she was absolutely not
to fuck any man. But no girls. If any other girl dared to go there she was
history.
To be continued.
Author’s note:
This chapter is a departure from the general
theme of the story in that it contains more extreme material. In particular there are scenes of incest and
graphic descriptions of farting and defaecation. I had never intended to write about
scatology, and I have never done so before.
It just seemed to fit in as the story developed. It is unlikely that the theme will be
revisited in subsequent chapters. I
would welcome any comment, via email, from readers about this.
Shelley
Angus McWilliams was a very rich man, but
all that wealth could not, by itself, dig him out of the predicament in which
he currently found himself. Angus was a
financial trader at a large international merchant bank. Not just a trader - one of the best. A decade ago he had hit the big time when he
discovered a new way to make vast sums of money. Nobody had heard of Advanced Reserve Fund
trades until his returns started flowing in.
Then everybody wanted to know all about them. He made a killing from the markets, then a
lucrative secondary income on the lecture and seminar circuit selling his
expertise to other greedy, wealthy people.
From their relatively modest family home in Edinburgh Angus, his wife,
and his daughter Shelley moved to much grander surroundings. They now occupied a 17th century castle in
the southern uplands of Scotland, just a few miles north of the English border.
It was a vast building, with over 40
rooms in total of various kinds. It was
set in the centre of an extensive country estate, which boasted its own lake,
forest, and even a length of river to which Angus owned the fishing rights.
Unfortunately, this highly desirable and
privileged position would soon be of little comfort to Angus. Angus was about to be sent to prison. Not any prison, but one in a location
considerably warmer than the temperate climate of southern Scotland. The thing is, Angus was about to be
extradited to a small central American republic, on charges of fraud and money
laundering. He had never set foot in the
country, but unfortunately the internet had enabled him to somehow end up in
their jurisdiction. In the corridors of
power in parliament there were forces at work which ensured that a country
which ordinarily would have little power over British citizens had acquired a
new found influence. Ministers were keen
to keep them on side, and thus one or two small fry, even those as influential
as Angus, were a small price to pay.
The country to which Angus was about to be
forcibly removed from his homeland had a penal system with a fearsome
reputation, but none so bad as the central maximum security jail on the
outskirts of the capital. Those who were
incarcerated there might survive a year or two, if they were lucky, but with a
longer sentence such as that which Angus was likely to receive their only
realistic prospect of leaving through the front gates was in a box. The reputation of the regime was just awful -
the hard labour, the brutality of the guards, the brutality of the inmates,
routine sexual abuse and rape, the starvation rations, the rats and
cockroaches, the endemic disease, the catalogue of misery was endless. A man such as Angus, used to a very
comfortable life, where his every whim was catered to, who did not even pour
his own tea in the morning, would never survive it. He didn't think he could cope with the remand
period, never mind the actual sentence.
The clock was ticking and time was running
out. Angus was facing his final appeal
in a few days, and all seemed lost. He
could almost hear the knock on the door as the police arrived with flight
marshals to escort him to his last ever flight.
Then Brewster, his barrister called Angus and told him that, against the
odds, he had found a solution. Angus
wanted to know all there and then, but Brewster explained that he couldn't talk
about it on the phone - it must be face to face. Brewster made the trip to the castle and
Angus listened intently to what he had to say.
He didn't know how Brewster had come by this information but it was
something to do with the judge who was due to hear the appeal, and some shady
characters in the background. It also
involved his beloved daughter, Shelly.
About to sit her sixth form exams, Shelley was well settled in her
school. It was a condition of the deal
that Shelley must transfer to a different school altogether - a school with a
difference. Angus became less and less
keen as Brewster detailed, accurately, what was really involved in Shelley's
move. Angus could not ordinarily
contemplate putting her through that.
But he was a coward. And there
was more to their relationship than usual.
In that vast castle, Angus and his wife
could live their separate lives, in a marriage which ended in all but name a
long time ago. She lived in her wing, he
in his, and they kept out of each other's way.
Rather than share their vast fortune with divorce lawyers they decided
to have a DIY divorce in which they each just did their own thing and ignored
the other. What his wife did not know
was that she had been replaced by her own daughter. Shelley and Angus had been sleeping together
since she was 14. She could not bear the
thought of her father being left to rot to death in that hell hole, so when he
sat her down and tearfully explained to her how she could help him avoid it,
she agreed. Unlike the majority of
Marigold's girls, Shelley McWilliams knew why she was there and what to expect. Thus she was prepared to ride the storm and
come out intact the other side.
At the appeal, to gasps of amazement from
the press and public galleries, the judge dismissed the case on a little-known
legal technicality. There was a three
year period during which this could be reversed, should other conditions be
met. Thus the defendant had to tread
carefully during that time. In other
words, Shelley would be at the school for at least three years. Angus walked free from court with a heavy
heart, but consoling himself that he would make it up to her. However, his attempt to buy her an easy time
at the school was firmly rebuffed. Every
girl at Marigold's was on a level playing field. It didn't matter how rich you were or who you
knew. Once you went through those gates
you were in the same boat as the rest.
Nevertheless, when Shelley arrived at
Marigold's she caused quite a stir. Not
for her a road trip in the back of some filthy van. Shelley arrived by helicopter. As the axis of evil (AKA Thornton and
Fitches) looked on through the broad window of the head's office, the machine
descended gracefully onto one of the playing fields near the playground,
throwing up a cloud of dust from the hard ground as it did so. Fitches was excited. He had seen photos of the McWilliams girl and
knew a little about her. She would be
warmly welcomed here. Even with the
rotors at idle power the trees behind the chopper were buffeted by the vortex,
as the grass swayed in unison. The door
slid back and one, then two feet gracefully planted themselves back on solid
ground. As per instructions Shelley left
the helicopter alone. She had said her
goodbyes inside. Now she was on her
own. No friends or relatives were ever
allowed to visit the school, except in the most unusual of circumstances. The arrival of a billionaire's daughter was
not sufficiently unusual for the rule to be relaxed.
As Shelley made her way to be greeted by the
escort her clothes were also blown around by the down draft from the spinning
rotors. The inhabitants of Marigolds
received their first peek up her skirt before she had even reached the main
building. She had a light summer dress
on, which was no match for the breeze, and trying to smooth it down was futile. So she didn't bother.
At her welcome interview, far from recoiling
from Fitches she let him have what he wanted.
Sitting on his lap, as so many of the girls had to during these chats,
she actually raised her skirt as she sat down so that the only thing separating
his already bulging cock from her was her knickers.
__________________________________________________-
There was a flurry of activity as all of
those who could spare the time hurried along to get the best spot. And the cause of all this excitement?
Miss Shelley McWilliams was going to the
toilet.
In any normal school it would never be a
special occasion. But here, it was a
public spectacle, which some of the men had come to cherish. Shelley, not long after her arrival there,
had decided to use the viewable bathroom facilities with no regard for who
might be watching her. She had built up
quite a following as a result. Shelley,
was a fairly petite blonde. Her face was
cute and babyish, with large blue eyes and a beautifully innocent look. Her hair was down to her shoulders, below
which her C cup breasts heaved alluringly under her school blouse, which was
generally a size too small. She
sometimes bared her midriff, not strictly allowed under school rules, but who
cared? The large diamond in her navel
was there to remind everyone that she was no pauper, but somebody of a certain
status in life. Most of the girls were
resentful of being forced to wear very short pleated grey school skirts. Not Shelley.
Her skirt was a couple of inches shorter than the maximum length the
regulations stipulated. When she walked
the lower curves of her bottom were intermittently visible. An expanse of bare legs, thighs toned in her
private gym and tanned in various exotic locations, was terminated by her
knee-length school socks. She always
wore thongs under her skirt, and delighted in bending over at any point where
she felt it could cause maximum distraction to the men who were invariably
around when she went anywhere. She would
delight in putting a handy man off his stroke just when he was about to hit a
nail and giggle as he struck his own thumb instead, because his attention was
focused on her arse. Getting them to
trip up or walk into doors was another favourite.
Wherever she went in the school Shelley was
followed. They leered and leched after
her unfettered. When Shelley arrived at
the classroom block, as soon as she had dismounted from her bicycle and gone
inside one of her stalkers would be straight in there, sniffing the seat. She didn't wash her own clothes or change her
own bed - there were plenty of volunteers for that. She loved it.
It was all for Daddy, and she was determined to ensure that her stay at
Marigold's was going to result in the good judge dismissing the case
permanently. She wondered what Thornton
had on the judge, but it mattered not.
The bathroom facilities at Marigold's were
specifically designed to make ablutions a spectator sport. There were no ladies' and gent's, just
unisex. Each location featured a male
half with urinals down one wall, and a unisex half with cubicles. But the cubicles were all transparent. Transparent, as in the walls were all made of
glass. It is safe to say that that glass
was cleaned and polished with more vigour than any other surface in the school,
save the two-way mirrors in the bedrooms, ensuring a good view. As if that were not enough, the toilets
themselves were transparent, and raised on a plinth. The cubicles were not side by side - each had
a full 360 degree space around it, lest girls try and use the ones in the
middle to help keep prying eyes off. And
just to complete the picture, the walls rose only to waist height. The shower cubicles followed the same pattern,
though they had full glass walls in order that the floor be kept dry.
The girls of Marigold's used all sorts of
tricks to try and avoid becoming the centre of attention when they needed a wee
or wanted to shower. Routines were
avoided. Some formed little gangs so
that while one was sitting on the toilet the others would stand round her to
shield her from view. If the place was
empty they would do lookout duty instead.
The men didn't mind at all having girls able to watch them pee. In fact most of them seemed to quite enjoy
it, and would linger with a full bladder until they found a victim to expose
themselves to, not infrequently combining it all with a wank which the girls
could see, if they didn't try not to look.
Some girls would try and sneak in in the early morning or during the
night, when there was less chance of being seen. Unfortunately they could not sneak in with
the lights off - a motion sensor automatically switched on the lights and
extractor fan whenever anyone came in.
Amy Pierce, a physics whizz kid, had rigged up a system which she
claimed could foil the motion sensors.
It failed miserably and she was a laughing stock for weeks.
Showers were frequently taken in bathing costumes, and in the hope
that the voyeurs would get bored and leave with enough time remaining to
quickly wash their private parts.
And then there were girls like Shelley who
just resigned themselves to it and carried on as normal. Shelley walked into the room and made her way
across it, to the nearest cubicle.
Within seconds the place was filled with men using the urinals -
gardeners, cleaners, maintenance men, all with a sudden need to go. Teachers did not feel the need to demean
themselves by hanging around the toilets in the hope of seeing something. They had a multitude of other ways to get
their kicks out of the girls. She swaggered
her hips as she walked, as she always did.
She walked in, shutting the gate behind her, then with a flourish she
pulled down her panties and sat down on the toilet. The men abandoned the pretence of wanting to
go and surrounded the cubicle where she sat.
Most already had their cocks out.
A couple lay on the floor, peering upwards through the transparent bowl
at her anus and vulva, the view spoiled slightly by refraction through the
glass. As the men looked on, Shelley
began to wee.
___________________________________________________________
Johnston hated marking coursework. It might have slipped the reader's mind, but
Marigold's was a real school, with real teachers teaching proper lessons, and
the girls taking real exams and obtaining the same qualifications as everyone
else. It was part of the smokescreen
that Marigold's occupied a position in the middle of the league tables, where
it would attract no attention. Not too
high, not too low. Inevitably there were
enquiries from prospective parents, but these were always deftly deflected
until they looked elsewhere. Marigold's
was not a place that you applied to and sat an entrance exam. Their admission criteria were more, shall we
say, esoteric. Johnston had waded half
way through the pile of coursework folders when he found the one labelled
"McWilliams, S". He opened it
and found inside a single blank sheet of A4.
Sitting on the blank paper was a pair of knickers. He popped them in his pocket, marked
"A+" against her name on the marking sheet, then closed the folder
and moved onto the next. Later her would
do her homework for her, after which he would dig out the stash of photos she
had supplied of herself in various states of undress and wank while he sniffed
her panties. He would then stand naked
at his sink and carefully wash them. In
class she would receive her freshly laundered panties back inside the folder,
while the other pupils looked forlornly at their poor grades. Shelley McWilliams never needed to visit the
laundry room.
_______________________________________________________________
She had a full bladder today and let loose
quite a forceful stream. When she had
finished the crowd waited in anticipation, and were rewarded when she started
to strain. Shelley was going to poo as
well. As she strained the rim of her
anus began to dilate, ready for the passage of the soft lump from her
rectum. It oozed slowly out and splashed
into the bowl, avidly watched by the assembled perverts. There was more - a second, then a third, then
she was done. What happened next had
become a ritual since a joke during the early days of this bizarre
scenario. Shelley had jokingly enquired
of the assembled audience, in her lovely lilting, soft eastern Scottish accent,
"I'm surprised ye dinnae want tae wipe ma arse as well", whereupon
one of them reached over the partition and did exactly that. Now Shelley stood up and bent forwards
slightly. Silently, hands reached over,
parted her buttocks, ripped off sheets of paper and wiped her clean. Yes, Shelley McWilliams did not even have to
wipe her own arse. Then, in the manner
of a valet waxing the luxury car he had just washed, they finished the job with
wet wipes, leaving her with the cleanest bum in the school. One or two of them would gladly have licked
it clean for her. Maybe one day that
would happen too.
She had finished on the bog, but the crowd
were to be rewarded with more. On this
occasion she was going to shower too.
She walked over to the shower cubicles, shedding her clothes nonchalantly
on the floor as she did. No sooner did
she drop them than they were picked up and folded neatly, ready for when she
had finished. Well, most of them anyway. With her underwear it was a different
story. Once upon a time her panties
would have found their way into somebody's pocket, along with her socks. New ones would have been found and brought
round by the time she was ready for a towel.
If she wore a bra then that would have gone too. But now they had no shame any more. They didn't even bother to try and conceal
their sordid activities in private. By
the time Shelley reached the shower cubicle her panties were already clamped to
someone’s face, as he furiously masturbated, while watching her sexy little
body swaggering across the floor. Her
socks were being sniffed too, and somebody else was sniffing her shoes. They really went wild for her trainers, when
she had those on but she hadn't been doing gym today. But they kept to a peculiar moral code,
considering how they were shamelessly, openly perving over a young girl. Nobody ever touched her without permission,
and whatever clothing they did take from her was invariably washed or
replaced. Shelley was not short of a bob
or two and didn't exactly need anyone to buy knickers for her, but nevertheless
they ensured she was well-supplied with them.
However, those which she had bought herself were prized above the rest.
Naked now, she stepped gracefully into the
cubicle and turned on the water.
__________________________________________________________________
Graham Fitches had started his career as a
high-flying young teacher at a top independent school. He worked his was steadily upwards, and was
soon in charge of a department, and tipped one day to be a headmaster, probably
of a major school. That was before his
fall from grace. Respectable and
impeccably-behaved in public, he had a secret fetish for voyeurism, which eventually
got him into trouble. Fitches had an
addiction to internet pornography. He
still indulged in it now, and would delight in leaving websites advertising
dirty teenage sluts or schoolgirl spankings openly displayed on his computer
screen when girls (usually their flesh crawling) had cause to visit his
office. It amused him that in this
school he did not need to hide his desires, and he liked the way it unnerved
them and made them feel uncomfortable while they conducted their business with
him. On the internet he had come across
websites selling videos which had been secretly filmed up the skirts of girls
in public places. After getting hooked
on these he decided to take things a step further and make his own. For a while he was successful, hanging around
the escalators at shopping malls, and visiting tourist attractions and sporting
events where he mingled with the crowd, discreetly following young girls with a
small video camera concealed in a bag.
Then one day he was skulking at a bus stop, with his camera pointing up
the skirts of a crowd of girls waiting for the bus to school. One of them spotted the camera and screamed -
loud enough for a nearby policeman to hear.
He tried to run but they caught him, cowering in the cubicle of a nearby
public toilet, where they arrested him.
His fall from grace was rapid and humiliating. He lost his job and ended up in court. The judge was lenient in his sentence, saying
that he had already suffered greatly, and put him on a community service
programme. Two days after he started his
community service he was approached by a strange man who appeared to have some
sort of influence over the probation officer in charge of his case. The man had a proposition which could help
him resume his teaching career, and have it disguised as part of his sentence. He found it hard to believe but the man was
very persuasive, and he agreed to go along with it. The man was someone he later came to know as
Thornton, though he was not born with that name. By now he was Thornton's right hand man, and
a key figure in the shady organisation behind Marigold's.
Like all the girls (every one of them),
Shelley McWilliams thought Fitches was a disgusting little creep. However she had decided right from the start
to play his game, so when she was summoned to his office for a little chat,
despite the inevitable sense of foreboding she was determined to play ball on
his terms. She didn't even change into a
longer skirt for the visit, and just went attired as she usually dressed -
provocatively.
"Ahh, McWilliams, come in my dear
girl."
As soon as Shelley stepped through the door
his hand was on her arse, guiding her towards her chair. At least she wouldn't have to sit on his
knee. The chair was placed directly
opposite where he sat down. Shelley took
her seat, then instead of crossing her legs like a young lady should, she sat
with her legs apart, so that Fitches could see right up her skirt. The semi he had developed became a stiff
hard-on as he drooled, speaking more to her panties and her heaving C cup
breasts than he did to her. Fitches had
a tiny cock, but even so she could see that he was excited. He was more used to reluctance and resistance
from the girls, so despite his experience it put him off his stride slightly
when she put one foot up on the chair so that he could get a better view of her
gusset.
He swallowed, and continued, "Well, er
Shelley, we here at Marigold's have been delighted with your progress so
far. You really have fitted in rather
nicely with our ways and foibles here.
Now, let's have a look at your report.
Now let me see, where have I put it..."
As he pretended to be forgetful she helped
him out, "I expect it's in your bottom drawer sir, shall I help you find
it?"
"Oh, er, oh yes, yes please!"
It was a tired and sad old trick but he was
at it all the time. Shelley went over to
the desk and bent over to look in the bottom drawer. She could hear his heavy breathing behind her
already as his hand went straight up her skirt and he began to finger her. She didn't push it away or try to close her
legs, but opened them a little further for him.
How she hated him, but it was for a higher purpose ultimately as far as
she was concerned.
"Here it is sir."
He was disappointed that she had found it so
quickly.
Sat back down again, with his eyes feasting
on her crotch once again, he continued.
"Well, as I said, your progress has
been very good, and we're considering elevating you to the status of
marshal."
"Oh I see sir, you want to dip me in
honey and throw me to the lesbians, eh?"
She was, off course referring to Nicolette
Fitzsimmons, the head girl. Most of the
prefects and a good number of the marshals had slept with their lesbian boss.
"Well, actually I don't think you're
really her type."
This was true. Nicolette didn't really go in a big way for
overtly pretty girls like Shelley, but preferred slightly more plain and
reserved girls, like Emma Hughes, her current squeeze. She liked to dominate them, and did not want
anyone competing too obviously with her own stunning attractiveness. However she had no qualms about random sex
and one night stands with the pretty ones.
She could take her pick so why waste the effort of keeping them as
girlfriends?
Shelley, disguising her own nervousness at
the move she was about to make, surprised Fitches again by getting up from her
seat and walking over to where Fitches was sitting. With her well- manicured fingers she unzipped
his fly and began to fumble inside. He
was mesmerised.
"Actually, sir, if I do something for
you there's something you can do for me in return."
She fished out his cock and ran her fingers
over the tip. He was circumcised, which
was a shame as he didn't have much to play with anyway so taking some away
seemed unnecessarily cruel. Holding the
little organ between two fingers she began to rapidly jerk it up and down. But then his face fell as gradually it went
limp in her hand. Fitches was
crestfallen. Shelley was a bit insulted,
actually.
"I, I'm sorry, it's just, damn!"
Faced with an advance from one of his
prettiest pupils he was too anxious and he was unable to perform.
"Relax sir, just relax"
She summoned all the will power she could to
quell her rising nausea, then knelt down and put it in her mouth. As she ran her tongue over the tip he began
to stiffen again.
She sucked him off until he came in her
mouth, then, she looked up at him, with spunk dribbling down her chin, then
licked her lips and swallowed all of it.
"My request sir - I want to see
Daddy."
It was absolutely forbidden at Marigold's
for the girls to have visitors. But
Shelley had Fitches eating out of her hand now, and for every rule there was an
exception. There was something powerful
about a girl who had not needed to be forced or threatened - she had, of her
own accord, wanked him off and sucked him off.
He wasn't going to cave in that easily
though. He decided to take a chance.
"Well, I'll certainly consider
it..."
"Oh sir, pleeeease, what more could I
do?"
She hoped he wouldn't ask to fuck her - no
way would she readily agree to that.
He'd have to rape her first, something that she knew he was well capable
of.
"Weeeeell..."
He appeared sheepish and embarrassed, and
could not look her in the eye as he spoke.
"I know what goes on in the bathroom,
you know.....and I know one of them asked you if you would.....er....if you
would....er....shit in his mouth."
His voice went rather quiet as he mumbled the last phrase.
Shelley was horrified. "Yes, and I told him to FUCK OFF
sir!"
"Whoa, pipe down girl, sorry I
mentioned it. You can go now."
"But, what about my visit?"
"Sorry, what visit was that?"
She thought for a second or two, then looked
at him sideways, with a glint in her eye and suggested, "..I'll fart on
you, if you want. Would you like me to
fart on your face Mr. Fitches?"
She had touched a nerve. It drove him wild.
"Oh yes! YES YES! I should like that very much. Listen, McWilliams...Shelley...you mustn't
breathe a word of this to anybody."
Shelley failed to stifle a giggle, "You
don't want me to breathe a word that you want to breathe the gas from my
bum!"
He grew sterner, "I mean it, you don't
want to cross me." Then he softened
again, "Now why don't you bring that pretty little arse of yours over here
and give uncle Graham what he likes."
"I can't just fart on demand you
know. OK, I'll try, but it might need
some preparation"
She bent over the desk and raised her
skirt. He had recovered and was stiff
again as he manoeuvered in behind her on his knees and put his face right up to
the crack of her bottom. She began to
strain, trying to push some gas out.
Fitches hooked her panties aside and gently prised her cheeks apart with
his hand. He was transfixed by the sight
of her anal sphincter as it quivered open and shut with her efforts. He secretly hoped she would accidentally shit
on him, but she didn't. After a few
seconds she let out a tiny little "poooof". That was all he would get today. He pushed his face in and nestled it between her cheeks, closing his eyes and
inhaling deeply. Shelley could feel him
wanking against her leg. She stayed
there and waited for him to finish.
He got up and she rearranged her clothes and
prepared to leave.
"Tonight your dinner will be liberally
adorned with cabbage, Brussels sprouts and baked beans. Tomorrow morning please come and see me
straight after morning assembly, and we'll do this properly. I'll also advise you of the arrangements for
you to see your father. You absolutely
must not let anyone else know that you've been granted a visit. Now take off your panties and leave them on
the table, then you can go," then he added, "thank you Shelley."
Shelley took off her knickers and left them
on the desk, as he had asked, then smoothed down her skirt and left, heading
for her room to get another pair. She
was getting a little bored of the fact that she couldn't seem to get through a single
day in this place without one of the men confiscating her underwear. What was the fascination?
____________________________________________________________
The following morning Shelley was in great
discomfort. The Fitches diet had had its
desired effect. Not only had she had
dinner as prescribed, but that evening another plate of flatulent food arrived
for her to eat, and her breakfast had been in the same vein. She wasn't going to eat sprouts again for
months. She had to keep her buttocks
clenched to stop it from escaping, so desperate was she to let rip. If he was into farting then he was going to
have the time of his life when this lot came out. She wasn't totally successful either, and
there were some comical moments in the dining room when she gave in to an urge
and had her dining companions shuffling themselves to the far end of the table
and holding their noses in disgust, while making the usual silly jokes that
girls make at these times.
At the appointed time she knocked on Fitches
door and was startled when he opened it straight away, whisked her inside then
locked it behind them. Fitches was
agitated and excited. He was clearly
looking forward to this. He began to
undress and she was treated to the unedifying sight of his oversized, middle
aged belly. On the screen of his
computer were pictures of several girls, who looked around 18, in various
states of undress from school uniform costumes, one of whom was sitting on a
naked man's face. Nodding towards the
screen, she asked "Would you like me to sit on your face, sir?"
"Yes Shelley, I would like it very much
if you would sit on my face and then fart on my face", he said, even
getting aroused just saying those words.
With that he lay his naked body on the floor, face up, and looked up her
skirt, eagerly awaiting the descent of her fine, firm young arse onto his
face. She didn't know that he already
had a video of just such a view. He had not
lost his habit of filming up girls' skirts since arriving at Marigold's, via
the penal system. Hidden in the floor of
his office was a camera, which filmed directly upwards. He would ensure that each girl who came to
see him had cause to stand over it.
Another camera filmed their faces.
He had a software system which automatically married the two video feeds
together so he could play back the feeds of face and upskirt shot together,
while he fiddled with himself. No sooner
had Shelley left on the last occasion than he had made a beeline for the mouse,
with which he dragged and dropped her video into the "favourites"
folder. It was a good thing that files
could not get worn out like cassette tapes, or this one would have been well
grainy by now. Taking her cue from
Fitches, Shelley was about to undress, and was in the process of removing her
skirt when he stopped her and bade that she remain fully dressed. The naughtiness of sticking his head up her
skirt was part of the fun, and he could happily grope her tits through the
blouse, and remove it at leisure when it suited him.
Shelley, eased herself across his chest so
that she was kneeling either side of it, facing towards his feet, before
lowering herself and pushing herself backwards until her bottom was resting
against his face. His little cock was
standing stiffly upright and she could feel him hyperventilating against her
skin. She sat on his face. His hand moved round her front, and put
gentle pressure on her, indicating that she should sit upright - he wanted her
full weight on him. Then he tapped her
on the leg. She took that as a sign to
let go - so she relaxed herself and farted.
She was desperately trying not to laugh, it was so ridiculous. He jerked a little and she lifted up to see
if he was okay. "Oh, that was
lovely, please don't stop! If I need you
to get up I'll tap you on the leg three times, otherwise you just sit there and
fart as much as you can....and play with me too, if you don't mind." "The one who smelt it dealt it!"
she chuckled. Shelley sat back down and
idly fiddled with his willie. The diet
had done the trick and she had enough gas to heat a moderately sized house
stored in her bowels. He was really in
no hurry to finish. Fitches was in his
element. Every few minutes she would get
another one and fart straight into his face.
In between she gently stroked his cock, while he felt her legs, or put
his hands up her blouse and fondled her breasts. When he seemed on the verge of shooting his
load she would ease back and let him recover before playing with it again. Doing this she managed to eke it out for a
whole hour, before finally the deputy headmaster's whole body went into spasm,
then he jerked as the spunk shot from the tip of his cock. Some of it went over her hand and the rest
dribbled down the shaft or landed on his belly.
She moved to get up, but he held her back, and spent another five
glorious minutes post-orgasm just enjoying having his face snuggled into her bottom. At last he let her rise. Aside from her dishevelled blouse, and her
panties which had been hooked aside at the back, Shelley was still full
clothed. Fitches was beaming. "Fantastic girl, bloody wonderful,
you've made a dirty old man very happy."
As Shelley, still slightly bemused reached over to take tissues from the
box on the desk (which Fitches always kept handy) he began to detail the
arrangements for the visit that she had earned herself. If only he knew that it was not just a visit,
but a conjugal one. That little snippet
of information was best kept under wraps.
She would have to tread carefully as secrets were remarkably difficult
to keep in this place, for some reason.
The visit would take place next Saturday
night, under strict secrecy. Shelley's
father would be provided with a room in a part of the school which was off
limits to pupils. Shelley would have
permission and access codes to go in there, but she must be out by sunrise or
there would be trouble. They could not
have the other girls thinking of trying it on too. Fitches had decided that he had better inform
Thornton about what was going on.
Thornton had seemed quite relaxed about the idea. No doubt he was scheming some way of wringing
something out of McWilliams. All would
become clear at the weekend. As Shelley
walked gratefully out of the open door and closed it behind her she heaved a
sigh of relief, and muttered, "fucking creep" under her breath as she
disappeared down the down corridor. It
was good to get some fresh air again.
Even if they were hers, they didn't half stink!
The next few days passed painfully slowly
for Shelley as she counted down the time left
to wait to see her father. She
had to keep it to herself so she couldn't even share the excitement with her
friends. Neither could she relate to
them the bizarre goings on in the deputy head's office. She knew he would want more, eventually; he
would wear her down, cajole her, pester her until finally she would give in and
perform the depraved acts that he was desperate for. For his own part, Fitches rapidly became
infatuated with Shelley and was forever looking for reasons to have her in his
office.
The weekend did finally arrive, and on
Saturday night, as promised, Shelley got to see her dad. At the pre-arranged time, just before midnight,
one of the prefects arrived at Shelley’s dormitory and hauled her out of
bed. As briefed she took Shelley to
Fitches office, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was “in big
trouble.” The prefect believed this to
be the case, and returned to her own room in the belief that Fitches was going
to find reason to spank her, or worse.
Perhaps he had had urges that needed relieving, or maybe she really had
misbehaved. Either way the prefect
didn’t care, since she was not the one who was fortunate enough to be getting
her hands on the girl. As soon as the
prefect was safely out of the way Fitches gave Shelley the details of how to
get to the room, and eager with anticipation she set off, across the deserted
courtyard to the wing which was normally never visited by students. Passing through locked doors and up winding
staircases she found the room and knocked tentatively on the door. This must be where Thornton’s special guests
were normally accommodated, in which case there might be one or two girls who
were familiar with the interior of this place, though probably not how to get
in.
The door opened and Shelley’s heart leapt
for joy as she fell into the arms of her beloved father. “Daddy!”
“Munchkin”, he replied, using his pet name for her. They just held each other for a few moments,
before she had a chance to look around her.
It was a nice room, well decorated and comfortable, which would not look
out of place in an upmarket hotel.
Ensuite facilities, a small fridge, no doubt containing drinks, and a
double four-poster bed, TV and telephone – an external one by the look of
it. Girls at Marigold’s were not
permitted to have external mobile phones or to use external land lines except
under strict conditions. Having been
taken from her bed Shelley was dressed appropriately, wearing a fairly
transparent negligee, which barely reached the top of her thighs. Her only other garment was a pair of skimpy
silk bikini panties and her slippers.
She had to look the part so as not to arouse suspicion when she was
arrested by the prefect, who had delighted in conducting her through the
corridors so attired, knowing that anybody might see her and get an eyeful of
her delicious body. Her breasts were
clearly visible through the thin material, and heaved enticingly as Angus
caught sight of her already-erect nipples.
Fitches saw them too, on the monitor.
Of course a camera, several actually, was rigged up in the room. He was gathering evidence on Thornton’s
orders, though he had no idea how much he was about to get.
“Oh Munchkin, I’ve been so worried about
you. How are you doing, are they
treating you well?”
“It’s a weird place Daddy, with some really
strange people but I’m coping with it.
Don’t you worry now, they’ve not hurt me, I’ve just had to do some….things….you
don’t need details, trust me.”
“Oh, darling – they haven’t….you’ve not been
raped?”
“No Daddy, nothing like that, look please
don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
They embraced again, just holding each
other. Then Shelley caught sight of a
packet of condoms on the bedside table.
She picked them up. “Daddy, you
didn’t need to bring these.”
Angus felt ashamed. “Oh, Munchkin, how selfish of me! Here you are languishing in this place and
all I can think about is getting my end away.
I’ve just missed you so, but I do understand if you don’t want to.”
“Oh aye!” Fitches thought to himself, “this
is starting to look very interesting.”
“No Daddy, what I meant was they give us
contraceptive injections here – we don’t need them. You can have me as nature intended tonight.”
Angus was relieved, and elated. They both wanted it so badly and nothing was
going to stop them now. Shelley kissed
Angus again then pushed him gently down onto the bed. He was wearing just his dressing gown, and
when she pulled it open he had nothing underneath, except a stiff erection,
already glistening with pre-cum. She
stroked it gently and Angus feared it would be over in seconds, so desperate
was he to fuck his daughter after all this time. She leaned down and kissed it gently, then
swung round into a 69 position, sitting gently on his face and beginning to
lick his swollen glans, pulling his foreskin gently down.
Fitches was wanking, and scheming. Now he would be able to coerce the McWilliams
girl into satisfying his deeper perversions.
Angus buried his tongue immediately in her
moist vagina. She had never tasted as
good as this and he eagerly ate her out as her head bobbed up and down his
penis. Angus was not a small man, and
his thick member was one part of him that his estranged wife did miss. Maybe one say she would join her daughter in
satisfying their man together – Angus fantasized about this often. Shelley’s beautiful blonde hair brushed
lightly against his skin as she worked on him, a sensation which itself was
enough to heighten his arousal. Angus
pulled her lips apart and used his tongue on her vulva and clitoris, while
burying his finger inside where he found her g spot. The pretty blonde teenager went into an
ecstatic spasm as she had her first orgasm of the night, while sitting on her
daddy’s face as the deputy headmaster watched on his secret monitor. Shelley lay down as she recovered from her
climax, and had to stop Angus from eagerly continuing his cunnilingus because
she was too sensitive to be touched.
Instead he stroked her legs and buttocks and told her how much he loved
her. She had magnificent legs, firm and
tanned, neither skinny nor fat, the kind of legs that turned heads and set
fantasies racing in the minds of men, and sometimes women, who gazed upon
them. And she was all his, he thought
greedily, in more than one sense.
Shelley rolled over, moved up and kissed him
again, then said, “fuck me daddy, fuck my bloody brains out!”
She got on her hands and knees and presented
herself to him, just as he liked. She
was as irresistible now as she was that first time, high in the castle where he
had finally allowed raw basic instinct to triumph over social acceptability and
taken his daughter’s virginity, at her own invitation. Angus knelt behind her, his cock rock hard,
and nudged it between her legs. He
rubbed it up and down her introitus then she guided him to the entrance with a
hand between her legs. She was still
beautifully tight and he had to work hard to overcome the initial resistance,
but eventually he was in. She gasped as
he filled her, and he paused before beginning to thrust gently in and out. Once they were in a rhythm his pace
quickened, and soon he was banging her like there was no tomorrow. The end of the bed slapped repeatedly against
the wall as he piled into her. She was
screaming with delight as he gave it to her.
As he fucked her like a bitch he slapped her bottom, and reached around to
grope her breasts, leaning right over her.
Angus felt Shelley tense. She was going to come again, and this time he
wanted to be there too. His pace
quickened and he was going at his fastest, panting heavily until finally he
groaned as he ejaculated inside her. As
she felt his semen oozing into her she orgasmed, and his climax became all the
more intense as he was gripped by her youthful, muscular vagina. It had been a damned good shag for both of
them. They collapsed, exhausted, onto
the bed and he cradled her head against his hairy chest as they whispered sweet
nothings to each other.
Shelley got up and disappeared into the
toilet to wee. Angus feasted his eyes on
her glowing red bottom as she walked across the room. So did Fitches, who was currently cleaning
spunk from his belly. This was
priceless, just priceless, on so many levels.
Shelley was back, climbing back into bed
with Angus. She looked up at him, with
her innocent deep blue eyes, and enquired, “Daddy, as a special treat would you
like to fuck me up the arse?”
Angus was gobsmacked. He had no idea she had thoughts like that,
and he had never contemplated asking as he knew how painful it would be for
her, though he’d no doubt that once she got over that she would grow to enjoy
it. He certainly would. It had crossed his mind as a way of avoiding
the risk of her becoming pregnant but he had not seriously considered it.
“Naughty naughty,” said Fitches to himself,
“the head hasn’t signed your buggery certificate.” He was referring to the school rule that no
girl could be anally penetrated without the permission of the senior staff,
usually the headmaster. It was to keep
them safe from the worst excesses of the highly liberal regime, and also a
useful stick to beat them with if they stepped out of line once too often.
“Oh Munchkin, are you sure?”
“Oh yes, I’ve though about it a lot and it’s
something I want to do for you, so you’ll remember tonight until the next time
we can be together.”
“I couldn’t do it to you, I really…”
She put a finger on his lips, as if to say,
quiet, no more discussion, we’re going to do it. She lay on her side, with him behind her, and
guided his hand between the cheeks of her firm little bottom. It was slippery down there. She had lubricated her anus with some jelly
she had found in the bathroom. No prizes
for guessing what went on in these rooms usually. Angus was beside himself. Suddenly he was very eager, and was already
becoming hard again. He rubbed his cock
up and down the crack of her arse, and fingered her anus. Then he pushed it against the entrance. No way.
It was not going to get in there, she was just too tight. He tried again, and told her to strain like
she was trying to go. She tried not to
think about Fitches as she did. She
strained, he pushed and eventually he managed to force his erect cock up his
daughter’s arse. She bit her lip and
tried to suppress a scream of pain, but failed.
He asked if she was OK and she just said that he mustn’t pull out now,
whatever he did.
Slowly, gently, Angus began to move his cock
in and out of her tight little bottom.
She was breathing heavily, and once or twice reached a hand back to slow
him down, but imploring him not to pull out.
The pain was immense but she was coping with it. She had never been taken up there before and
didn’t really know what to expect. She
felt so full. He was certainly enjoying
the experience. The way her sphincter
gripped his cock was mind blowing, and in his dirty mind he enjoyed the
dominant feeling of buggering her. As
time went on she relaxed more and he was able to quicken his pace, but nowhere
near what he had managed up her cunt. He
came again, with great force, but this time only a dribble of semen entered her
rectum. Even months of abstinence could
not provide such huge quantities of spunk that he could fill her every
time. Still, as he pulled out there was
semen dribbling from her anus.
Fitches zoomed in, and licked his lips at
the sight of cum dribbling from her slightly gaping ring piece. Oh, what a
night.
The rest of the night they talked, and
kissed, and talked more. They looked
forward to the day they could be together again. They chatted about how she would get through
her time there. As the first rays of
sunshine appeared in the sky she did what she had been ordered, bade him a
tearful farewell, and disappeared back to her room, her bottom still sore from
where he had taken her up the bum.
Neither of them realized how much those few hours of incestuous sex were
going to cost them.
The following Monday morning Fitches went to
see his boss, the headmaster, Jim Thornton.
He had thought long and hard about his course of action after watching
them at it last night. Fitches wanted to
use the film for his own ends. Now that
he had that information at his disposal he could blackmail Shelley and get her
to do what he wanted. Thornton would
want it for a different reason, in order to use it against her father. Eventually Fitches decided he had to come
clean, even if it meant his prize slipping through his fingers for now.
Thornton slapped him on the back. “Graham, my dear chap”, he boomed, “we can
both have what we want! You can tell the
McWilliams girl that her father doesn’t know about the tape, and have your
wicked way with her. I’ll tell daddy
that she doesn’t know about it, but if he doesn’t become one of our financial
backers then he will find it is he who gets taken up the arse on a regular
basis – by the inhabitants of that prison he is so desperate to avoid. If word got out that he was doing his own
daughter he’d be back in court and on that plane in no time. Deal?”
Of course it was. Fitches beamed, as he contemplated putting
Shelley on the spot. Now she would have
to go further to satisfy his bizarre desires.
Not again, she thought. Fitches just would not leave her alone these
days. She seemed to spend half her life
in his office. After the weekend gone by
she had hoped he would lay off for a bit, but no, here she was again for
another of his fireside chats. She sat
uncomfortably as her bum was still a bit sore.
“So, Shelley, nice time on Saturday?”
“Yes sir, it was. I’d like to do it again soon, if I may.”
“Daddy’s cock still tasty?”
She stopped dead in her tracks. A moment of silence passed as she suddenly
felt very cold. “Excuse me?”
“Bet you didn’t want to suck it again after
it had been up your backside, eh?”
Shelley was devastated. How did he know? Nobody else in the world knew about it, so
far as she was aware. She hung her head,
and began to sob gently. “You
bastard! You dirty, evil fucking
bastard…”
Fitches came over and knelt before her.
“Shelley, I love you”
“What?!”
“I love you.”
“No you don’t! Don’t say that again. I hate you.”
“Shelley, this goes no further….but you have
to do…..things….for me.”
“Like what?
I’m not going to let you fuck me.”
Maybe in time, he thought, but for now there
were other desires he needed fulfilling.
“Shelley, I want you to make me your toilet
slave. Outside this office I am your
deputy head, and you show me respect. In
here, behind closed doors, I submit myself totally to your gorgeous body. I want to worship you like the goddess that
you are.”
He meant it.
He had grown increasingly obsessed with her. She was temporarily speechless.
“What’s a toilet slave?” She had a feeling she knew but hoped it was
something else. It wasn’t.
As a bemused Shelley looked on Fitches
locked the door then produced a tarpaulin mat, which he rolled out on the
floor. Once again she was treated to the
unedifying sight of his naked body as he undressed and lay himself on the
mat. He had a hard on. He instructed her to take her knickers off
and come and sit on his face. She was
used to this routine by now, and knew how he liked it, with his face in her
bottom. This time his tongue was
soothing as it licked round her bruised ringpiece, and she almost enjoyed
it. Then came the punchline – he asked
her to wee on his face. She didn’t want
to but he reminded her that though he idolized her he would not hesitate to
incriminate her father if she didn’t comply.
Squatting over Fitches, Shelley let go of a
stream of wee. It was hard to go at
first since like most people she was conditioned not to open up except when
sitting on a toilet. She had quite a
full bladder and when she was part way through weeing on his face he asked her
to move down and piss on his cock. He
was clearly enjoying himself.
Then came the final coup de grace. “Shelley, darling.”
“Don’t call me that….why don’t you call me Miss
McWilliams or something.”
He liked the sound of that – it made her
sound dominant.
“Miss McWilliams, I would like it very much
if you would poo on my face.”
It was such a filthy, disgusting
request. Shelley was a very clean girl,
and she couldn’t even bear to be dirty down there, never mind do something so
ghastly. As it happened, the stress of
the past half hour had already moved her bowels along somewhat so it was no
difficulty to go. Squatting back over
his face she began to strain. As he looked,
wide-eyed, from below, Shelley McWilliams opened her anus and pushed a turd of
warm, soft brown faceces onto his face.
It was horrible.
He lay there, with her shit sitting on his
face, then waited until she did another.
Finally he rolled over and let it fall on the mat. He took a wet wipe and wiped off the rest,
then gently wiped her bottom. She was
used to that sort of treatment. Finally
he guided the hand of the horrified girl to his cock and had her wank him off.
He dismissed her and she fled from the room
as fast as her legs would go. She left
without her knickers once again, but this time it was due to her haste to get
away.
So Shelley finally, reluctantly, became the
toilet mistress of the deputy head. In
return he lavished privilege on her. He
gave her a key to the private bathrooms so at least she no longer had crowds of
slavering men watching her on the toilet.
But she had to pay regular visits to him, where he became increasingly
depraved in his demands. He had changed
himself, too. He went to the gym and
lost weight. He shaved his hair short so
that his balding pate looked less aged.
He had a makeover. In time she almost
began to like him. He was in charge on
the outside but when the door closed the roles reversed. He called her Miss McWilliams. She called him Thing, figuring that he did
not even deserve a name, so low was he.
But she never, ever allowed him to fuck her.
To be continued….
Anja
Anja Osman was
one of the most accomplished language students at Marigold's. Fluent in Turkish, German and English she had
quite a head start on the others. With
the aid of her best friend, Keiko Fukushima she was also picking up a fair
smattering of Japanese. The two of them
were involved in a heated but good natured discussion on cultural
differences. Anja's father was working
in Germany, away from his native Turkey when he met her mother. He had moved to the eastern city of Chemnitz
following the fall of the iron curtain.
She had grown up there during the communist era, having previously known
her home as Karl Marx Stadt. Osman's
hope of finding fortune in the newly liberated state failed when the local
economy faltered and the young couple, she now big with child, moved west to
Hamburg in search of a better life.
There Osman got involved with some shady underworld characters and part
of his forfeit to escape from their clutches led to their daughter, now in her
teens, completing her education at Marigold's academy.
"So, this
FKK as you call it," Keiko began, "this is normal in your
country?"
"Ja, it
means Freikörperkultur. Lots of people
were that way in East Germany where my mother grew up. It's no big deal like your, how you call it -
bukkake?"
She was referring
to the common practice of nudism in many parts of Europe, including Germany.
Keiko
laughed. "We don't do bukkake any
more - that's folklore. Some people say it never even existed you know. So you walk around with nothing on, in public
with complete strangers? Weird."
"Hey, I'll
tell you what, we'll organise a naked pool party - senior girls and teachers -
then you'll see how nice it is to be free and in tune with nature. It will be like after netball. What do you think sir?"
Sir was Mr
Wilmott-Taylor, the netball coach. Keiko
and Anja were having this discussion as they rested their heads on either side
of his muscular, hairy chest. They were
lying in his bed, and if Keiko had any reservations about nudity she certainly
wasn't showing it now since she had nothing on except the sheet that covered
the three of them. Wilmott-Taylor had
just fucked her and was recovering his cock before doing the same to Anja.
Tall, handsome
and athletic Wilmott-Taylor had most of the girls eating from the palm of his
hand. He was in his mid thirties and
much younger than many of the teachers.
He had a thing for jet black hair, which both Keiko and Anja had plenty
of. They were his favourite (but not
only) girlfriends. Anja had inherited
her features mainly from her father's side of the family. She had large dark brown eyes, partly framed
by thick dark eyebrows which complemented her hair. Her lips were full and pouting. Her skin was light brown and
unblemished. As much as her breasts were
small, pert and upturned, her rear was larger, fuller and hung low, like an
inverted heart shape. It was
well-supported since Wilmott-Taylor's hand was holding it rather firmly. Keiko was pale skinned, flat chested and flat
bottomed. How she envied the girls with
ample rears. One of these days she was
going to get buttock implants.
Wilmott-Taylor seemed quite content with it though, it had to be said.
"Hmmm?"
he growled, sleepily,"what was that girls?"
"A naked
pool party sir. I'll go as long as Anja
does a bukkake in return."
Anja giggled,
then poked Keiko playfully in the ribs, "Yeah, I'll do bukkake the day I
see you get your baps out in front of all the teachers!"
It was a rash
promise which she would end up having to keep.
Keiko was shy about her body and avoided Wilmott-Taylor's post-match
festivities, of which more later.
"Yeah,
that's cool girls. Count me in. What was that bukkake thingy?"
His deep,
gravelly voice and impeccably posh English gentleman's accent were yet another
reason that he had the girls all fawning over him at every opportunity. Even the lesbians thought he was cute.
His netball
lessons were certainly unconventional, but unusually for Marigold's he was not
the prime mover of the original change.
It was the girls, no doubt corrupted by the general atmosphere of the
place. One fine summer's afternoon
Wilmott-Taylor was starting yet another netball lesson with the sixth
form. He was exasperated to discover
that nobody had remembered to bring the coloured bibs that he normally used to
distinguish one team from another during practice. Twelve girls stood identically dressed in
front of him, each sporting a pale yellow top and short navy blue gym
skirt. He was busy ticking them off for
being so slack when one of them piped up, "I know sir, why don't half of
us take off our skirts? We can have
skirts versus knickers!"
Wilmott-Taylor
was temporarily lost for words, and in the moment of his speechlessness she
took his silence to signify approval and promptly whipped off her skirt,
tossing it onto the grassy bank at the side of the court. Down the bank, on the other side of the fence
the usual crowd of male spectators had gathered. They were in a particularly good position
since the raised court afforded them a better view up the girls' skirts,
especially when they had to run down the bank and bend over to pick up the
ball. Hands fumbled in pockets as eyes
squinted eagerly through the chicken wire.
As she stood
before him, in just her yellow top and white panties a broad grin spread across
Wilmott-Taylor's face and he agreed that it was a splendid idea. Zoë, the girl who had made the suggestion was
duly appointed captain of one team, and she wasted no time in nominating her
chief rival, Kirsten as the other. As the two girls came to the front to pick
their respective teams Zoë was glowing with delight and excitement that she was
standing right in front of Mr Wilmott-Taylor in just her knickers and a small
top. She hoped he was getting a hard on
from looking at her. He certainly would
when she and her team were wiggling their bottoms at him as they danced around
the court. Kirsten glared at Zoë,
knowing she had deliberately excluded her from the opportunity to show off in
front of Wilmott-Taylor. No doubt she was hoping to catch his eye and be in
with a chance of getting asked out on one of his Sunday drives. He was in the habit of talking one, sometimes
two of the girls for a drive in his sports car.
The prettiest would get to sit in the front where Wilmott-Taylor's hand
would spend more time on her knee or up her skirt than on the gear stick. He would drive them to a secluded spot, away
from the main school grounds then he would fuck them.
Kirsten was Not
going to be outdone. "We're not
going to wear the colours of the opposition - we'll have to take off our
panties." There was little protest as her team discarded their knickers in
a little pile next to the skirts of Zoë's team.
Wilmott-Taylor
was in his element. The knickers team
were delightful to watch as he followed their pert little bottoms jumping
around the court. The skirts team were
less revealing most of the time but when they jumped or bent over he was
treated to some wonderful views of their fannies. How he loved this school! Kirsten and Zoë would be rewarded this
weekend. Perhaps it would be funny to
get them to snog each other before he shagged them, knowing how much mutual dislike
there was between them. What better way
to kiss and make up?!
It was a highly
sexually charged session and the clouds of teenage pheromones floating around
that court must have had a powerful effect, because at the end of it the girls
invited him to join them in the bath. It
was traditional for the girls to climb into a large communal bath after
games. Wilmott-Taylor usually attended
in a supervisory rôle, as if they really needed him to watch them bathe!
He did not
hesitate to accept the invitation and there were squeals of glee as they helped
him to undress. Although a substantial
number of them had seen his cock there was still a ripple of gleeful excitement
as his erection proudly stood up when they removed his pants. It appeared that he had come in his pants at
least once during the game.
There was much
nudging and disbelieving words mouthed to one another. Was Sir really going to take a bath with
them? Oh yes. The staff had it all prepared and ready, as
they always did. It was a large
whirlpool, sunk into into the floor. Not
deep enough to stand up in, but certainly deep enough to sit and enjoy. As soon as he climbed in and took his place
he was joined on either side by two eager girls. He may have shot his load once this afternoon
but their hands commenced a valiant effort to bring about another helping. So much fun was had by all that it became a
standard fixture of his lessons, as did the unorthodox method of identifying
the two teams.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Keiko was late. Again.
Of all the girls in her class at school she was undoubtedly the worst at
time keeping. Unfortunately for Keiko,
this time her lateness would have more consequences than she could have
imagined. As she rushed from the street
into the Tokyo subway station, school skirt flapping as she hurried, satchel
swings wildly by her side, she failed to notice the man in the long coat who
was loitering casually by the entrance.
Why would she take any notice of yet another commuter on his way to work
on one of the most crowded public transport networks in the world? He noticed her. He was waiting for her. He didn't know whether it would be today, or
tomorrow, or the day after, but sooner or later the girl would once again be
rushing to school alone, long after her more punctual friends had made their
journey.
She didn't notice
him as he followed a few steps behind as she bounded down the escalator. She didn't notice him as he stood discreetly
behind her on the platform.
The train
thundered into the station and she looked with relief at her watch. She would just make it in time, as long as
there were no delays. She jumped
gratefully onto the train and squeezed into what little space she could
find. The train was packed, as usual,
and even finding somewhere to stand was difficult, but she managed it. And so did he. He was squeezed in right behind her.
She didn't notice
him as the train pulled out of the first station. She didn't notice him as his crotch began to
rub against her bottom as the train rattled along the tunnel. She didn't notice his erection growing under
his coat as he rubbed against her.
The next station
began to hurtle past the window in no time.
The doors opened and a few people tumbled with relief onto the platform,
to be replaced in seconds by more human sardines. Then it was off again. One more stop, but this was a long
stretch. It would be ten minute before
Keiko would reach her destination. It
would be a long ten minutes.
As soon as the
doors had closed he began to put his well-rehearsed plan into action. He eased his coat open, then his hands
returned above his waist, where all could see that he was not one of the
notorious gropers who roamed the Tokyo subway, molesting female
passengers. His trousers were incomplete
at the front. They ended just above the
hem of his coat, to which the legs were attached. With his coat now open, his erect penis was
pushing against the back of Keiko's skirt.
Now she noticed
him.
Keiko tried to
turn around and see who it was, but it was too crowded to move. She tried to call out, but nobody noticed
her. They were all too engrossed in
their own private contemplations. She
was trapped, with an unseen stranger rubbing his penis against her. She tried to stamp on his foot, but missed
and then found to her horror that his foot was between her feet. He was forcing her legs apart!
The man eased
himself down slightly and managed to flick the tip of his cock under the hem of
her skirt. Now she felt it, hot and
engorged, against the bare skin of her buttock. Then he succeeded in easing it
into the gap at the top of her thighs.
As the train rumbled and shuddered on its way he began to ever so gently
move his cock back and forth between her thighs, rubbing right up against the gusset
of her panties. The movement of the
train served only to enhance the friction between them. She squirmed, desperate to free herself but
moving only seemed to satisfy him more.
He was very firmly erect now.
With a couple of
minutes to go before the next station she suddenly felt a warm trickle down the
inside of her thigh. He had come on
her. Her panties were also wet and she
could feel the foul mess soaking into them.
She was filled simultaneously with revulsion at what he had done and
relief that it was over. He eased
himself back into his coat andvwhen the train drew to a halt and the doors slid
open he was out in an instant, making his way rapidly through the crowd.
But Keiko was
determined to catch him. She ran after
him, shouting out that he was a groper.
He panicked and when it became apparent that he was trying to run away
from her the other passengers responded and apprehended him. Security arrived quickly and the man was
escorted away, with a near-hysterical Keiko following behind, to the station
master's office.
The police were
nit especially sympathetic. After
talking her story down the officer asked to see the evidence of what he had
done. He explained that it was usually
difficult to pursue cases since the accused invariably denied it and it would
be her word against his. "You say
he ejaculated on you?"
She hung her head
with the shame of it, and nodded.
"Can I
see?"
Keiko was taken
aback by this request. "You want to
look up my skirt?"
"Yes. So we can see what he did, and take notes.
It's standard procedure. If there's
something there we'll call for the doctor to examine you properly."
Reluctantly Keiko
shifted her legs apart and the policeman leaned over and peered up at the
sticky mess. He raised an eyebrow and
nodded at the station master, who in turn came to have a look, along with the
security guard. They had misinterpreted
the policeman as having invited them to have a peek. Keiko feared they would stick their hands up
her skirt to check that it was really spunk.
The policeman spoke into his radio.
Then he produced a digital camera from his pouch and told Keiko that he
was required to take photographs for his notes.
As poor Keiko sat there, with her legs apart and her skirt hitched up he
set about photographing her semen-stained panties and her sticky thighs. He also asked her to stand up and hitch her
skirt up at the back so that he could photograph the area of
"penetration".
Keiko's father
was a very angry man. This incident had
shamed the honour of his family and could not go unpunished. The perpetrator was arrested, prosecuted and
jailed. But Fukushima had got the wrong
man. Not wrong in the sense of guilt -
he had committed the crime. Wrong in the
sense that he would come to wish that he had asked the police to drop the
charges, to save his daughter the ordeal of the trial. The day after the assailant was jailed
Fukushima received a visit from some very menacing guests. They later left Fukushima explaining to Keiko
how much safer she would be at a school he had found for her in Europe.
It was a foregone
conclusion that the idea of a naked pool party would be approved at the highest
level. Anja was allowed to decide how it
would be organized and who would be invited.
It was to be on a Saturday evening at the height of summer. She had no choice but to extend an open
invite to the teachers but other than that she specified that it was for the
senior girls and clerical staff. The
blue collar staff were not invited because she didn't think they could be
relied upon to behave themselves in that environment. There were plenty of teachers she would
happily have excluded if she could, but as luck would have it many of them
decided not to go anyway. They were not
exactly short of opportunities to abuse their position in relation to the girls
anyway. They were also self selecting in
that some were not over-enthusiastic about baring their own naked, unattractive
bodies to all and sundry. Thus is was
quite a fun crowd that decided to turn up.
On the evening of
the party there was a buzz of excitement about the school. Nobody could ever remember such an event
before. Sure there were Thornton's
detestible get togethers and numerous small gatherings but nothing like
this. Many of the juniors were annoyed
at missing out on the fun and being confined to their dormitories in the usual
way, although some were relieved not to be under pressure to go. Up at the swimming pool area things got off
to a slow start. The chef was there with
his barbecue, sporting an apron and nothing else. A couple of male teachers had wasted no time
in stripping off and were to be found standing in the altogether, chatting over
a glass of wine, and sporting semi-hard-ons in anticipation of the feast of
flesh that was to come. The girls
eventually began to arrive in little groups of two or three, laughing nervously
and huddling together. None of them were
naked. All sported at least a towel or a
bikini, though one or two had dared to go topless. They stood around, their breasts proudly on
show as the teachers surreptitiously ogled them. Presently Anja herself arrived. As she made her entrance she was attired in
an attractive silk kimono, a gift from her friend Keiko. She made her way round the edge of the
swimming pool to where tables and chairs had been set up ready for food. Without further ado she took it off,
revealing her totally naked body underneath.
Then she strolled casually round the pool, poured herself a drink and
began to chat to the goggle-eyed teachers.
All eyes were on her, from her beautiful black hair, via her
pleasingly-rounded rump to her smooth, tanned legs. And of course, they could not hellp but ogle
her bare breasts, and the neatly-trimmed hair between her legs at the
front. The semis became full erections,
which she ignored until eventually they subsided again. Sooner or later everyone would settle
down. Anja was in her natural habitat
now, and she felt free and comfortable in a way she had not since arriving at
Marigold's. Anja's boldness stirred the
other girls into action and one by one they began to be more adventurous. At first they would disrobe then quickly jump
straight into the water, hiding their youthful breasts and bottoms under the
refraction of the water. More teachers
arrived, and a few of the office staff.
The clerics tended to be a bit younger than the teachers, and less hung
up about themselves, so both male and female they were more inclined to bare
all when they arrived.
Keiko was late,
as usual. Her experience on the Tokyo
subway had not cured her of that habit.
But when she arrived, she made quite an entrance. The first hint of her imminent arrival was
the wolf whistles and cat calls which could be heard emanating from the open
windows of dormitories overlooking the courtyard, and some of the staff
rooms. The normally interminably shy
Keiko had decided to beat Anja at her own game.
Keiko had undressed in her room, then completely naked she had walked
calmly, gracefully and casually down the stairs, along the main corridor, out
into the courtyard and then all the way up to the swimming pool area. Inside her heart was beating as rapidly as
she had known, and she felt deeply embarrassed but outwardly she was a picture
of tranquility. Shooting a glance at
Anja she said silently, telepathically, "I've done it, now it's your
turn." Anja knew then that she was
going to have to go through with the bukkake, and since she had set the terms
of the party, Keiko was going to be writing the rules of that little
encounter. She shuddered as she thought
of what was in store.
As the evening
wore on things got more relaxed, and interesting, as the alcohol went down and
the inhibitions went down with it. The
swimming pool was closed as a safety precaution and the shy girls who had been
taking refuge under the water had no choice but to emerge and reveal themselves
in all their glory. By now, nobody
seemed to notice. Wandering around with
no clothes on no longer seemed that big a deal.
Wilmott-Taylor
was surrounded by his usual coterie of hangers on, all vying for his attention
and hoping to get laid that night.
Shelley McWilliams was relieved not to be the only one being ogled
tonight, though as usual she was not at all short of admirers. Helen Kent was now firmly established as the
favourite plaything of the lesbian sorority among the girls, and there was
every indication that after tonight's festivities she was going to be the chief
attraction at an orgy in one of the prefect's rooms. Just like any other Saturday night really.
The Princess, magnificent physical specimen that she was, had carefully
examined her own buttocks in the mirror before venturing out to confirm that
the weals had faded. Dominique and her
science teacher boyfriend were canoodling unashamedly in a corner. Anybody who cared to look closely enough
would have noticed that she was actually wanking him off right there and then.
Keiko worked her
way round to Anja and eased her away from the conversation she was engrossed
in. It was payback time, her rules. Meanwhile Zoë, slightly the worse for wear
after drinking one too many, had suggested a game of "cock
chase". She was surrounded by a
group of young guys from the IT department, as she explained the game. "It's easy really. Me an' Kirsten are on one team and you guys
are on the other. We get a head start
then you have to chase us .If you catch us you can fuck us." They guy with his hand embedded in Kirsten's
arse was not so sure about this. As far
as he was concerned he had already caught what he wanted, but Kirsten, her
rivalry with Zoe temporarily forgotten, had agreed to play. What else could she do? Wilmott-Taylor had clearly scored for the
night and there wasn't a better prospect in sight, short of biting the carpet
while she was licked from behind by one of the headgirl's crew. Keiko was savouring the moment. Anja was really going to get it now. Keiko had decided that Anja was to go with
her to the blue collar staff room, where she was to finish up with her face and
tits drenched in cum. She argued that it would have to be during the week. Tonight would be too easy, since there
wouldn't be that many people around. As
Keiko poured herself another drink she felt someone's penis accidentally brush
against her bum for the third time that evening. The night was young.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
It was lunchtime
on Wednesday before Anja and Keiko found time to complete Anja's forfeit. Keiko was gently teasing her as they skipped
down the stairs at the entrance to the main building, en route to the blue
collar staff room. They took little
notice of the large black limousine that drew up and parked at the bottom of
the stairs. Anja was excited and aroused. She felt naughty and dirty, and she used
Keiko as an excuse for doing it, convincing herself that she was not
responsible. As the two girls went on
their way, the driver emerged. He was
immaculately dressed in a grey suit and cap, with white gloves covering his
hands. Leather shoes, with a perfect
shine, adorned his feet. He opened the
rear door and stood to attention. A
woman emerged gracefully from the back seat.
She was tall and slim, in her early forties. Her hair was straight, jet black, and
finished in the middle of her back.
Beneath her long, dark leather coat, only a pair of shiny black
high-heeled boots were visible. They
ended at her thighs. She was followed by
a black labrador. The dog scampered up
the stairs at her side, as the driver stood waiting next to the vehicle. She did not pause at reception. This visitor needed no introduction. She was on her way to be received by Mr
Thornton.
With her stomach
doing somersaults inside her belly, Anja poked her head round the staff room
door. The atmosphere was heavy with
cigarette smoke, as a dozen men in overalls and similar attire sat eating their
lunch or playing cards with each other.
The girls often wondered why the school seemed to need so many
maintenance men. Interest picked up when
Anja's face appeared. By and large the
girls avoided coming down here as the rules seemed to be different in here, and
liberties were taken which would not be allowed elsewhere in the school.
"Hi guys,
I've a fault to report - the light bulb in our dorm has gone."
The foreman
replied from the far side of the room.
"You'll need to complete a request - the book's up there. John, fetch a step for the young lady." Of course it was "up there", on a
shelf high on the wall. Anja would climb
the step ladder and in no time many pairs of eyes would be looking straight up
her skirt. As she ventured in Keiko
followed timidly behind. A mutter went
round the room, and hands began to fiddle inside pockets. Anja walked over to the step ladder and climbed
up to retrieve the request book. The
foreman put a helpful hand on her bottom to ease her up, and didn't hurry to
remove it. Anja could feel herself
becoming damp, waiting for the moment the guys realised it was to be a
free-for-all. She came down with the
request book and asked for a pen. The
foreman winked at the others and said there was one in his pocket. There wasn't.
The only thing in his pocket was his penis, erect, poking through a hole
at the bottom. He expected Anja to
recoil in disgust, whereupon they would all laugh and she would be provided
with a pen. Not this time. As Keiko watched, hand over mouth, Anja said,
"Ooh, what have we here? Look
Keiko, his willie, and it's all hard too."
Anja began to
wank it, as the astonished foreman sat open-mouthed. "Let's get a closer look", she
said. She unzipped him and eased his
trousers down. He now stood with his
erection pointing at her. She got down
on her knees, kissed his glans then continued to masturbate him. She jerked faster and faster until he grunted
that he was going to come. Anja moved
her face close and continued to jerk until a jet sprang from his cock and hit
her left cheek. As he caught his breath
it dribbled slowly down and hung from her jaw.
Anja turned and said, "fluff 'em up Keiko, who's next?" Keiko felt a hand go up her own skirt as she
began to release the cock of the nearest guy.
Anja was already surrounded by three more, and she knelt as they formed
a circle around her, their stiff members vying for attention.
The woman sat,
with perfect poise, sipping her tea as the dog lay at her feet. "So, if what you say is true then this
girl, Bullingdon-Smythe, sounds perfect, exceptional even. Can I have her examined right
away?" Thornton lifted the phone,
and minutes later Sophie was escorted from her classroom to the medical centre.
When the maths
teacher opened the door of the staff room quite a sight greeted him. Anja Osman was almost fully undressed. She still had the small garment which passed
for a skirt on, and her socks were still in place, but nothing else. She was sitting astride a man who was naked
from the waist down. She was bouncing up
snd down on his cock, while in one hand she was wanking another man off. She had a third cock in her mouth. She was coated in semen, from her hair to her
face, all over her neck, and dripping from her breasts. Keiko Fukushima was on her back, on the
table, being humped like there was no tomorrow.
At that moment the man pulled out then moved quickly to Osman, where he
ejaculated in her face.
The teacher
didn't bat an eyelid. "Hi guys,
just came to remind you my desk is still broken. I can see you're busy. By the end of today would be nice. Osman, don't be late for class. Detention isn't full yet."
"No problem
boss", came the reply as he shut the door and left. Two of the girls were being roasted before
his eyes and he had not even passed comment.
When a bewildered
Sophie arrived at the medical centre the nurse was waiting, along with a
black-haired woman she didn't recognise.
Sitting beside the woman was a dog, which looked strangely familiar but
she couldn't place. The woman did not
introduce herself but immediately asked Sophie to undress and don a gown. She glanced enquiringly at the nurse, who
indicated that she do as she was told.
As the two women watched her she removed everything except her
underwear. "You'll need your
panties off too, and your bra."
"Why am
I....what's this all about?"
"Just do as
she says. Don't ask questions."
Sophie stood in
just the gown, which she was about to tie at the back when they stopped her and
asked her to leave it open.
Her time at
Marigold's had tamed her fiery defiance and the Sophie who would have protested
and resisted was somewhat dormant. It
would not have occurred to her that the mysterious visitor had every intention
of relighting that fire within her. In
time. As the nurse set about examining,
weighing and measuring Sophie she meekly went along with whatever they
demanded. Why on earth would they want
to measure her breasts, or buttocks?
There was a
limit. When she was told to lie on her
back on the couch., and put her legs up in stirrups she demanded to know what
was going on. She was shocked to receive
a single, sharp slap across the face from the woman, which told her all she
needed to know. As she lay there, with
her legs up and apart, the two of them sat between her legs and began to
examine her vagina. It got worse. The woman donned a pair of gloves and the
nurse squeezed a blob of clear gel onto her fingers. Standing beside Sophie she placed two fingers
into Sophie's vagina. It was so
humiliating, and she had no idea why they were doing this. Next came a more intimate examination with a
speculum. She closed her eyes and tried
to ignore them as they discussed her private parts as though she was not
there. Next her legs came down and she
had to lie on her side. The woman put
gloves on again and pushed a finger up Sophie's anus. She felt so humiliated. It was like being an animal up for sale, like
a horse or something. She was closer to
the truth with that thought than she could have imagined.
The woman removed
her gloves and flicked them into a bin.
As she washed her hands she turned to Sophie. "Good, good. All is in order. You'll be spending the next weekend with me
at my estate. Mr Thornton has agreed all
the necessary arrangements. I will leave
instructions for you on what to pack. We
leave on Friday morning, 9am sharp.
Everything will be explained onthe way.
Come on Regus." As the woman
left with her dog, Sophie bombarded the nurse with questions but she just
professed ignorance. She was just doing
her job.
Sophie dressed
and left quickly, desperate to get away from the room where she had just been
treated like a piece of live meat. If
only she knew of what was in store for her.
To be continued.
Nikki
Another school. Another world. Finchester College was about as far from Marigold's as you could get. Not physically far, as such (well, a couple of hundred miles) but otherwise the two establishments had little in common. Finchester College was a large, sprawling complex, midway between the centre of Finchester itself and the leafy suburbs on the outskirts. Thus it took a mixed clientele from some of the less salubrious inner city estates through to the well-to-do families who lived in the more attractive areas of town. By and large everyone generally got on with one another, and the excellent academic record ensured that many whose families could afford to send them elsewhere were content to pass through its doors, rubbing shoulder to shoulder with those with no choice in the matter.
The extensive campus boasted facilities which were the envy of other schools in the area. As well as the vast academic blocks there were playing fields for every major sport, swimming, tennis and even, along the river whose meandering course skirted it, rowing.
All harmonious and perfect. Or not. Like any other school, Finchester had its bad eggs, and one of them was Nikki Webster.
Jason didn't think so. In his eyes Nikki was perfect, in every way. She was a goddess and he worshipped her. She was pretty, stunningly so. Her face was perfection, framed by wavy locks of light brown hair, interspersed with blonde locks. Behind the face was an intelligent, intellectual mind, which could rival the best in the classroom. The well-proportioned body below was similarly proficient on the sports field, and she was a prominent member of a number of the most prestigious teams. To most she was a babe; to Jason she was an angel. There was a downside. When it came to personality she was what is commonly known as a Horrible Little Bitch. Not to Jason though. He viewed her through rose-tinted spectacles. He had spent the last couple of years in desperate hope that one day she would go out with him. She liked him too, he knew. Well, not really. She did encourage him, it was true. He was always ready to do anything for her, whether carry her bag, or run some little errand, anything for her attention. She certainly led him on to an extent but much of her apparent liking for him was wishfulo thinking on his part. Nevertheless, he was not imagining it all.
He wasn't her type really. She was glamourous and popular. He had a lovely personality, but was basically a bit of a nerd. No fashion sense, not into the latest music, preferring instead to immerse himself in pastimes which were unlikely to attract a girl like Nikki.
Jason had finally come to a decision. He was going to ask her out. He could not go on like this forever. It took a couple of weeks of planning, and plucking up courage, finding a moment when they would be alone, without her usual gang of hangers-on, of which she was the leader. The chance came at the end of a day in class. The two of them were working together on a project and found themselves staying late to finish a part of it. As the clock ticked on he found it hard to concentrate as the moment of reckoning approached. The work was done and Nikki was packing up her things to leave. He made his move.
"Nikki.....I was wondering....would you like to go out with me?"
Stunned silence. Then, "What?"
How could she make him repeat it? It was hard enough to say it once.
"Would you go out with me?"
She didn't mean to but she put her hand over her mouth and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. His face fell.
"Oh Jase, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
He was already deflated and looking at the floor.
"Look, you're really sweet and I do like you but to be honest I don't really go for....no, I'm sorry. Look, I've got to go."
She fled the room and left him there on his own. He was devastated. He had built himself up, convinced himself that every glance in his direction, every little interaction with her was an indication that the feeling he had were mutual. Now his world was collapsing around him. He felt sick. There was a pain in his stomach as though someone had punched him there. Nothing else seemed to matter. Why did he have to go and ask? Now things would never be the same between them. She would probably avoid him now.
By the time Nikki got home she had spread the news on her mobile phone, and several of her close friends were in the know. When Jason turned up for school the next day it was round the whole campus.
"Morning lover boy!" quipped one of the girls as he walked into the classroom. It seemed that every girl in the place knew about it and they all seemed to be laughing at him. Poor geeky Jason, fancy going for a chick like Nikki. What was he thinking of? He was correct in his prediction. She was avoiding him and whereas they usually sat near one another, she had moved to the other side of the room, and for good measure surrounded herself with a protective cordon of female cronies.
It wasn't enough for Nikki. By lunchtime it seemed on the grapevine that there was some suggestion of her having feelings for him. That had to stop, right now. No way was she going to risk her street cred with people believing something like that. Action was required. Jason was about to experience the Horrible Little Bitch that he had refused to see until now.
They got him in the post-lunch break. Jason was moping down the main corridor, feeling sorry for himself, when his path was barred by two girls whom he immediately recognised as part of Nikki's gang - Penny Wise and Michelle Jenner. They were paid up members of the cool set, though a peg below the wonderful Nikki herself. "Yo Jason, like Nikki wants a chat with you OK?" Penny said. He perked up - maybe she had had a change of heart. Ever the optimist he hoped he might be in luck. "Yeah, come with us, we insist", Michelle continued. He seemd not to be being offered a choice so he agreed and went. It was like he was under arrest, with Penny leading the way and Michelle behind, almost as if to stop him escaping. He began to suspect something amiss when they led him into the girls' toilets. Michelle shut the door behind them and then pushed a wedge under it. Oh dear.
There was a large group of girls in there, eight or nine by the looks of it. And in the middle of it all was Nikki. He had mixed feelings now, at once pleased and not pleased to see her. She laid into him. "Jason, you fucking nerdy twat! You been telling people I fancy you?"
"No, I never told anyone...you must have..."
"Shut the fuck up. What the hell makes you think I'd be interested in a geek like you? I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last bloke on the planet. I mean for fuck sake, me an' a pov like you?"
She spat the word pov with all the spite she could muster. Jason's family were not at all well off. He lived in a high rise tower block in the centre of town, with his mother and two sisters. They had little but they got by. Nikki, on the other hand, was the daughter of one of Finchester's wealthier residents, Willie Webster. He owned several businesses in the city and the Websters brand was everywhere.
As she verbally mauled him her assembled gang muttered their agreement and goaded him. Then two of them grabbed him under the arms and held him tight. He wasn't physically strong and was no match for them.
"What do you reckon girls, shall we see what super-nerd has in his pants? Reckon you've got enough to satisfy me eh?"
As they held him hands began to fumble at his zip and his belt was pulled off. He struggled in vain and felt cold air on his legs as his trousers were pulled down. The mob were baying for him now. They had barricaded the only exit. One of them took his trousers and threw them out of a window, along with his shoes.
Now they grabbed at his pants, while they taunted him. "What you got in there then? Can we 'ave a look at your pecker?". They flicked his pants and intermittently he could feel himself becoming exposed before the elastic snapped back. Nikki had the honour of pulling them right down.
Suddenly, in front of all those mocking pairs of female eyes, Jason stood with his pants round his ankles and his cock exposed. It wasn't very big. They laughed and laughed and as he crossed his legs and tried to avoid their probing hands, they pulled and tugged at it. Mobile phones appeared. Some of them were filming proceedings.
Something unexpected then happened to Jason. He got an erection. He couldn't understand why, but somehow being the centre of attention and having all those girls looking at his cock just gave him a hard-on.
"Oh wow, look! Needle dick is getting a stiffy!"
"Are you excited? You like having us playing with your little willy? Let's see if we can make him come."
With that he was manhandled to the floor, where one of them sat on his face, kneeling with her legs either side of his head. It was difficult to breathe. He could feel others holding him down as he struggled. Another sat in his cock, and as he felt the material of her skirt rubbing roughly against him she began to simulate sex, bouncing up and down and moving round and round. He tried in vain to push them off.
"What's the matter? You gay or something? Don't you like doing it with girls? Why you pestering Nikki then?"
"He probably wants it up the bum. Is that what you like, you fucking poofter?"
Panic set in as he felt someone trying to push a hard object against his anus. Now he really fought hard and fortunately they stopped. Hands grabbed at him penis and tugged it, and then he couldn't help himself. Much as he hated what they were doing to him he ejaculated. Nikki was not enjoying it any more. It had gone too far but she had lost control of events.
One of them put her fingers in the cum which had dribbled on to the floor and wiped it across his face, as he tried to stop it going in his own mouth.
Then they frogmarched him to the door and threw him out into the corridor. The poor boy just ran, looking for sanctuary, his weedy body exposed to ridicule. Eventually he found himself cowering in the boys locker room, where a kindly friend found him something to wear while they went in search of his clothes.
Nikki had succeeded in proving her point - she did not fancy him.
Horrible Little Bitch.
She regretted it now, and she felt a bit low after what they'd done to him. She would have to try and make it up to him. His only crime had been to fall in love with her. Soon she would come to regret it more than she could know.
--------------------
The following day Penny Wise failed to live up to her name. Penny foolish forgot to switch to silent. Big mistake. There she was, sitting at the back as Harris droned on at the front about some boring author from hundreds of years ago. Penny's fingers danced expertly around the keypad as she wrote a raunchy text message to her boyfriend. His reply set off a tell-tale beep.
"Wise, not again!"
Harris was not amused. "Right, bring it here. I'm tired of warning you about mobiles in class."
She protested, "Oh sir, please, I won't do it again."
"No more last chances wise. It's confiscated. You can have it back tomorrow."
Petulantly she brought the phone to the teacher and slung it onto the desk. "There you are sir. Just cos you want to ring my mates for dates."
"Shut it or I'll add detention."
It was standard practice. Phones used during lessons were impounded for the night. Depriving them of their mobiles for a few hours was equivalent to a life sentence. Harris secretly enjoyed getting his hands on them because of all the interesting information he could glean from them, especially from those too careless to set a password. That evening, after finishing his marking he picked up Penny's phone and started to nose through her private life. In no time he had a picture of who she had in her call list and address book. Intriguingly he recognized one of the numbers as a fellow teacher. All the information was filed away in his excellent memory. Photos were the best. It was amazing the things these teenagers took pictures of. He copied a few for his own records. And the videos! Penny only had one on there. He clicked on it, then sat wide-eyed as he watched Nikki Webster leading a baying mob who were attempting to sodomise Jason Moore with a mop handle. He looked on in disbelief as the scene unfolded. Then he took the memory card from the phone and placed it in a slot in his computer, before selecting "copy all". This was dynamite. He knew he should take this to the police, but he decided there was someone else who would be interested in the goings on on that video. If he played his cards right the bounty on the head of Nikki Webster would enable him to retire immediately. As he put the phone back in his top drawer he was disturbed by a noise from the corridor. he glanced at the door just in time to see a face disappear under the window in it. He'd seen her - Penny Wise. He got up and made a beeline for the door. She wasn't quick enough and he caught her before she had time to escape.
"Penny, why don't you come in and sit down?"
He wasn't expecting her of course, but he guessed why she was there and therefore did not look at all surprised to see her. In turn, she realised that his lack of confusion at her presence gave the game away - he had seen what was on there. Penny had been too busy playing to the audience in class to think about what was on the phone when she handed it over. Too busy being a smart arse. It had dawned on her on the way home. She had to get to the phone and delete what needed getting rid of. She had planned to clear the memory then put it straight back, so that Harris would not suspect anything, in the hope that he was not the nosey bastard that he was. She had not banked on him working late, since like most students she did not think of teachers as having anything constructive to do when they were not teaching. She followed him into the room and sat meekly down. Harris fixed her with a stare. "Not good Penny, not good". Was he referrring to the video or the history teacher's phone number? Oh come on sir, give me a clue! "You could go down for that, you know, all of you, especially Webster." The video! "What else have you been going down on?" he probed. He was right too. OK, so he'd found that as well.
Harris considered his options. Throwing Webster to the wolves would get him what he wanted. They didn't need Penny as well, which meant that he could have her over a barrel by himself.
"Go down?" she enquired.
"That's a serious crime being committed there - sexual assault. It's not like the old days, when the school would have dealt with it. It's the cops and the courts now. Custodial, definitely."
"Oh."
What else could she say? Shit, this was serious trouble.
Harris offered the olive branch.
"I can make this go away you know, for you Penny that is. Webster.....she's toast."
"Go on sir...."
"It's not you in the video is it...nobody can prove you were there. Trust me. If you can persuade me....I can have you off the hook. Nikki...she gets dealt with - but no questions from you, just forget the whole thing."
"What do I need to....oh, I see."
Harris had unzipped himself. Penny got the message. She could live with it. "OK sir, I get you."
Harris got up and crossed over to the door. He locked it and pulled down the blind. He went back and sat on the edge of the desk, and calmly removed his trousers. Penny's mouth ran dry as she caught sight of his erection, in all its glory. She was no stranger to this kind of activity and she got on with the task in hand without making a fuss. She knelt in front of Harris and took his cock straight into her mouth. She didn't blame him for the situation, and he wasn't bad looking. Actually, she'd probably shag him if it was the right situation. So she resolved to give him a very pleasant blow job. Harris was very excited. He couldn't believe his luck as her lips closed around his swollen bell end, and her tongue began to expertly massage it insider her mouth. He put his hand gently on her head and ran it through her hair as she bobbed up and down on his shaft. No doubt about it, she gave good head. As she worked on it he remarked, "now you've crossed the Rubicon Penny there's a lot more I can do for you, to make your life easier round here, if you don't mind doing things for me from time to time."
She stopped and looked up, saliva dribbling from her lip, "Rubicon sir?"
"Perhaps if you paid more attention in history rather than shagging the teacher you'd know what that meant."
She playfully thumped him in the groin and went back to sucking him off. She started to work harder at it, and he could feel himself getting close to climax, so he stopped her and let it subside. Then he lifted her and began to unbutton her jeans. She wasn't sure she wanted to go that way, but he was persuasive, and she felt rather flattered that he wanted to do it with her, so she let him. "Next time Penny I want to do you in your school uniform."
"You fucking perv sir!"
Harris pulled her jeans down and she stepped out of them. She had rather small panties on. He almost came right there and then at the sight of her. He slipped his hand insider her knickers and began to finger her, pleased to feel that she was wet. He put his other hand up her top and expertly released her small breasts from her bra. He sat down on the chair and with his cock sticking up he invited her to sit on it, which she duly did. She wrapped her legs round the side of him and he began to kiss her as he pushed himself up inside her. Boy was she tight!
"Please don't come in me sir!"
He loved that. He was fucking her brains out and she still called him sir. It was a tight squeeze at first but she did relax and lubricate better as they went on. He clamped his hands on her firm little bottom and began to thrust in and out of her, pounding her hard until she began to scream. He clamped his hand over her mouth to try and stifle the noise. Someone might hear. She wore a huge smile under it. Her hair was a mess. She was loving it.
"Get up quick!"
Penny lifted up and his cock slipped out of her just in time before a thick jet of cum spurted from it. He spasmed and jerked. Penny knelt down and licked the spunk from his cock.
Harris reached into the drawer and took out her phone. She took it gratefully and began to get dressed. "Deals a deal Penny, you're off the hook. But that doesn't mean we can't....again."
"I'd love to sir"
She smiled back at him as she unlocked the door and left him to his marking. She thought, he really fancies me. A new crush was born. Harris decided not to contemplate retiring just yet, not until he'd had his fill of this delicious little tart.
As soon as she was gone Harris picked up the phone and began to dial. He had kept this number for a long time and could scarcely believe he was about to use it in anger.
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If Penny's problems were coming to an end, Nikki's were only just beginning.
Willie Webster was sitting in the front of the TV with a pile of paperwork to his side and a laptop perched on his knee. His wife, Cynthia, was out at a regular meeting of her book club. Upstairs in the spacious detached house his only daughter, Nikki, was busy studying. One day that girl was going places. A place at a top university was a dead certainty, and she would have earned it too. Considering how prosperous Webster was, with his extensive business interests in the town, they could easily have afforded to live somewhere more grand, but the house in the smartest district of the suburbs, with its large secluded garden, private driveway and quiet cul-de-sac location was plenty enough for them. There was no need for ostentatious displays of wealth. Round here everyone knew he was successful. He was disturbed by the doorbell.
Two smartly dressed men stood at the door.
"William Webster?" one of them enquired.
"Yes."
"We'd like to speak to you about a serious sexual assault."
Webster was bemused. He could think of nothing he had ever done which could lead to such an allegation. "I'm sorry, I don't follow you. I've never been involved in.."
"Not you sir, it's your daughter. May we come in?"
"Nikki, she never said. Oh Lord, I hadn't noticed. The poor girl, how could I miss.."
"Your daughter was the perpetrator."
The words sunk in and Webster looked shocked. He stood to one side as the eased past him and entered the living room, sitting down on the sofa.
"I'm sorry, who did you say you were?" He had assumed that they were polce officers but they had never said that they were.
"Watch this, then listen very carefully to what we have to say. May I?"
The man indicated that he wished to use Webster's laptop. Webster nodded and the man produced a DVD and inserted it in the drive. In seconds he was looking on in horror as his little girl directed a nasty attack on a defenceless boy.
"She'll go down for this. Custodial. Best forget about that degree course now eh? Different lessons to learn where she's going", one of them taunted.
"Your girl a lezzer is she? She will be soon. They'll go wild for her inside. If she likes the taste of cunt she'll have no trouble finding a special friend to protect her."
They laid it on thick. Webster called Nikki down from her room. She was devastated that her dad had found out what had gone on, then even more so as they waxed lyrical about her forthcoming spell in a detention centre.
Then came the get out clause. It could all be avoided, but it would cost her a year. Her education would continue, and she would be back on track for her degree, but it was going to be a bit.....different to her current lifestyle.
___________________________________________
Nikki Webster arrived at Marigold's Academy with a distinct disadvantage in comparison with the other girls. She was a real criminal. Whatever they said or did to her, she had still done what she did, the evidence was safely stored and would be used against her if they saw fit. She was trapped.
Her initial meeting with Thornton and Fitches was more blatant and threatening than many of the welcome chats they dished out. They were on solid ground because this girl really had something to lose and she knew it.
"So, Miss Webster, we have it on good authority that you don't like boys with little willies. Well, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. We've got plenty of guys round here with very big cocks", drooled Fitches.
"Huge, fat, stiff cocks", rejoined Thornton, "ready to fuck you, stretch you, pump you full of come."
As Nikki sat, her head bowed, looking forlornly at the floor and biting her lip, trying desperately not to break down in tears, they cajoled and taunted her. When she plucked up the courage to raise her gaze she was shocked at the sight of the deputy headmaster's penis, sticking proudly out of his trousers, but even more shocked that the headmaster had done the same. Thornton did not have a hard-on, but he didn't need to to intimidate her. Thornton was hung like a horse. His elongated member lay against his thigh, and Nikki had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach that he intended to insert it into her at some point during her stay. She prayed that it was not going to be today. She needed time to adjust mentally to what lay ahead.
Thornton and his perverts, or the lesbians in prison. Hobson's choice, but she had opted for the former and there was no going back. Perhaps if she had been filled in on the delights of the Marigold's party rota perhaps she would have given anything to be eating the cunt of some butch drug dealer each night rather than spend time in this place.
Her first inkling that something was amiss was the silence, and pitying looks that she received from many of the other girls when she mentioned that she had been detailed to serve drinks at a party the coming Saturday evening. Most of them seemed unwilling to speak what was on their minds, until one day one of them calmly asked her: "Nikki, have you ever been raped?"
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This episode will be concluded in the next chapter.
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