That was this summer. I had very long relationship and last year i got ridden of it. So I sex occasionally wit various girls till then. One night this September I was very very tired of everything. Job went finally better and some private investing also, but I had being working for 14 hours a day at time. It was About 1 am in the morning and was just went of from long shower and about to lay down on my bad.The voice from the other side of cell phone was very pleasant, some kind of baby talking voice. Voice said" Annnn' what what do want from me now?...LOL.. i said "who is this?&... Continue»
the Meeting (Part 2)
"Come in," Michael commanded. He looked up as the door opened, pleasantly surprised to see Meredith. "Good morning, Chancellor."
"It's Meredith, Michael. No need to be so formal when we aren't in front of the students." She smiled at him.
He watched as she walked over to the chair in front of his desk, his eyes gazed down at her legs as she crossed them, her short skirt rode higher on those gorgeous thighs, a quick glimpse between her legs making his cock hard.
"So good to see you, Meredith. What I can do for you, today?"
"Not for me, for the Board of Directors."
"Anything in particular? Not that I don't already suspect what they would like."
"I have told the Board of the good things I have heard about you around campus the last couple of days."
"And what have you heard, Meredith? Only the truth, I hope."
"I heard that you have already punished one of the students. A Mary Bridget, to be specific. From what I hear, she has had trouble sitting since. Rumor has it that she was caned. Care to confirm or deny?" She smiled, uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again, slowly so that his eyes followed her every movement.
His cock throbbed in his pants.
"Mary Bridget, yes a very errant young woman. I brought her into my office the first day for her poor grades. I gave her a sound spanking. It seems it didn't do much good, as the next day I had her back after learning that she had been inattentive in class. I thought that she needed a more severe punishment. The caning apparently worked wonders on her disposition; it only took four strokes to convince her of the error of her ways."
"Over her panties," Meredith shot back.
Michael smiled, "The first two. The last two were with her panties off, her naked bottom cheeks bearing the brunt. She did a very enjoyable dance for my benefit."
"I imagine she did," her mind pictured Mary Bridget bent over, naked, her legs dancing, giving Michael a very intimate glimpse of her naked sex.
"Was she grateful when you were finished?"
"Actually, it was rather funny. The first day I even helped her out, masturbating her until she came in front of me. The girl turned beat red when she came, but she soaked my hand as she shook with her release. The next day, I made her perform for me, showing me her naked body in a variety of very compromising and revealing positions. Even had a chance to feel how tight her asshole was. She was very cooperative," he explained.
"And you? Did she do anything to help you out? I'm sure your cock must have been very hard after punishing such a delightful little body for two days."
"Now that you mention it, I thought I might have to call you," laughed as he said it. "But I decided that Mary Bridget should do it since she was the cause of my hard cock. So I took her mouth while I masturbated her pussy with my cane. It had special little rubber bands around it, raised bands. I tied her legs together and let the cane saw up and down that sensitive little slit while I face fucked her. We both had such an enjoyable climax; Mary Bridget swallowed all of my cum while she came again for me. She has a very lovely body and could be trained very easily to please anyone. She will do anything to avoid punishment, though that does take some of the joy out of it."
"You know you made my panties soaked with that story, don't you Michael? I think you enjoy doing that."
"I love to make any girl wet, Meredith. Now, what would the Board like?"
"Once I told them about Mary Bridget they were as excited as I was. As I told you when I hired you, the Board is very interested in corporal punishment. They would like to observe you putting one of the girls through her paces. In the special punishment room, so they can observe through the two-way mirror." She knew the grin on his face was proof he would love to display his prowess to the Board; almost as much as he would enjoy punishing the girl.
"I'm sure that I can find someone that would provide suitable enjoyment for the Board. Anything special they might like?"
"They want a very severe punishment. They prefer to start on Thursday. With it being a holiday weekend, should it be necessary for the unfortunate girl to spend a few days in the infirmary she would be in better shape by Monday." Meredith could more than imagine how his cock jerked in his pants at the thought.
"We have such lovely antique bondage equipment, many dating back to when corporal punishment was legal. The Board would like to see her bound in some, slowly stripped naked, and you using some of the more painful devices and equipment on the more delicate and sensitive parts of her body. They enjoy the screams of the girls."
Michael was pleased with their request. "And, sexually?"
"Why of course, they would enjoy seeing her sexually m*****ed. Especially, f***ed masturbation. And if she was a virgin in any of her holes, they would love to see her lose them to your cock. I'm sure there are ways you can make her perform for you sexually. Pain is such a motivator, especially for such impressionable girls."
"Tell the Board I'd love to bring in one of the girls to put on a show for them, put her through her paces. Thursday after class would be fine; the school would almost be empty. I haven't seen all of the equipment you speak of, but I'm sure that I can make good use of most of it. I think I would like to work on her Thursday night, but keep her bound after that for the remainder of the night. Then, she will be fresh on Friday for some further punishment. And of course she would be available to me again to take sexually. I am a big fan of anal sex and find that girls tend to really hate it the first couple of times" he chuckled. "Their screams are priceless as they feel a large cock f***ed up their bottoms for the first time."
"Do you have anyone in mind for the punishment?" Meredith's mind quickly clicked off the names of some of the girls she'd have chosen.
"I'm sure you know of Justine. I've read her file and noticed that she has had some lack of attention problems lately. She's one of the scholarship girls and we have her mother's permission for corporal punishment, though I doubt she neither told Justine nor even suspected what we might do to her daughter. I have not seen her; can you tell me what she looks like?“
"A lovely girl, very quiet, no self confidence. She has average size breasts, nice full hips and such a well developed and shapely ass. She'd make a perfect candidate for punishment. And yes, she has had some problems with paying attention in class and I'm sure that I can convince one of her Professors to send her to your office for some infraction. Oh, yes, I almost forgot," Meredith smiled, "she has this perfect set of lips. Lips that I'm sure you can put to good use. I don't think she is a virgin, but I doubt she has much experience. I'm sure she is an anal virgin, a fact that you would enjoy rectifying."
"Settled. Then it's Justine on Thursday. Make sure she's in my office by three o'clock. That will give us some time to get acquainted before I bring her to the punishment room. I think threethirty would give me sufficient time.
Justine (part 1)
It was almost the weekend, a three-day weekend that would begin tomorrow. She didn't have any special plans; it would just be nice not to have school for three days. Justine sat in the back of the class and listened to them talk.
"Have you seen him, Ashley? He may be older, but he sure looks good to me. I'd love to feel those hands on my body," Brandy boasted to her friend.
"I hear that he's punishing students," Ashley added. "Someone said that he caned a girl for not paying attention in class!"
"Caned her? You mean with a cane, a real live cane like they used in the past?"
"Yes. I guess he was a Headmaster in other schools before coming here."
Justine leaned closer, not wanting to miss what they were saying. She had heard the same stories, wondering if they were true. While very intelligent, Justine was very meek, not wanting to offend anyone, not wanting to attract attention. She knew most of the answers that the Professors asked, but never raised her hand. Even when she was called on, her mind went blank; leading the Professors to think she didn't know it. Her mother, divorced and uneducated, wasn't much help. If it weren't for a high school teacher helping her fill out the application for a scholarship to Beardsley, she would probably be serving burgers at McDonald's now. She was one of the scholarship students, which Justine didn't know required that her mother signed over her
permission for corporal punishment. Nor did she tell Justine of her decision, assuming it would never be an issue with her good little girl. Little did either of them know that the high school teacher was paid by Beardsley to encourage Justine to apply, her background check having shown that she was very submissive and would respond well to corporal punishment.
"God, my pussy is wet just thinking about that," Brandy responded.
"You mean you would like him to cane you?" Ashley surprised at her best friend's admission.
"No silly, but I sure would like to be d****d over his lap and spanked like a naughty little girl. That would be so hot. Imagine him slipping your panties down and spanking your naked ass? God, I would cum all over him."
"You're such a slut, Brandy," Ashley's shock apparent.
"Come on now, Ashley. I just love strong men, even older men. Boy, I'd love to see what he would do to my body. Not like those silly boys that just want to fuck me for two minutes then roll over. Tell me you wouldn't want to be taken by him!"
"Okay, yeah, maybe. But to be spanked? That turns you on? The pain?"
"If he made me cum I'd let him do anything to me. It's different when you're horny; the pain is almost as good as the pleasure."
"I guess. I do like it when boys twist my nipples. My pussy creams my panties. But he is so much older."
"Yeah, but older men really know what turns you on. They know exactly how to play your body. I bet he could keep me aroused for hours. God, I could masturbate right here thinking about it."
"You're always horny, Brandy," Ashley laughed at her best friend.
"Tell you what, Ashley. Let's go find out if Headmaster Michael is the real deal."
"What do you mean?"
"I bet we can get Professor Doyle to send us to the Headmaster. The old fart hates me, but is always trying to look down by top. Want to see if the Headmaster will really punish us?"
"Are you k**ding? Ashley looked at her strangely.
"I dare you, double dare you," Brandy taunted her.
"OK, I'll do it. He'll probably just lecture us and make us stay after class."
"Monday, we'll do it Monday. I have a date Friday, wouldn't want to get my ass spanked and have a boy see it."
"Heh, it isn't going to happen, but I'm with you. Let's see how good Headmaster Michael really is."
Justine couldn't believe that someone would actually do a thing like that; to deliberately try to get into trouble in order to get the Headmaster to punish them.
"Justine. Justine!" Professor Ralston's voice rose.
Justine looked up, startled to hear her name being screamed out. She was so intent on listening to Ashley and Brandy that she had blocked out everything else. Her face turned red, all attention now on her as Professor Ralston screamed out her name.
"Yes, Sir," she stammered.
"I asked you a question, Justine. What are you doing? sl**ping in class?" The room broke out in laughter; Justine was embarrassed as everyone looked at her, even Ashley and Brandy.
"Sorry, Sir. What was the question?" God, no, don't ask me a question.
"I have asked it twice already, Justine. Maybe Brandy knows the answer. You obviously are not paying attention." He waited as Brandy answered the question promptly. "Very good, Brandy. See? Even Brandy knew the answer." The Professor always put her down, even when she was correct.
"Justine, see me after class!"
Professor Ralston always seemed to pick on her, Justine thought. Especially this week. It had started on Tuesday when he lectured her about being late. Hell, it was only about thirty seconds after the bell. Then yesterday he passed back the homework, a big fat C in red covered the top of hers. It wasn't as if she got all A's, but a C?
She tried to talk to him after class, but the line to see him had been long, perhaps others received the same low grade that she had. I'll do better on the next one. I just need this long weekend to catch up. It had been her last class before the three-day weekend, now he would delay her with a silly lecture. The room emptied quickly, the other students eager to leave. Justine was staying on campus, most of the other students-the ones with money-went away for the long weekend, the beach, home, anywhere but here. At least she would have some peace and quiet; her roommate had left after lunch.
"I'm sorry, Professor Ralston," she blurted out before he even looked up from his desk. "It must be the three-day weekend, my brain seems to have gone on vacation early," she tried to make light of the issue.
"Excuse me, Justine. Were you talking to me?" Professor Ralston looked up from the pile of papers on his desk.
"Nothing, Sir. You asked to see me," not able to repeat what she said, tongue tied again.
"Yes, Justine. The past couple of weeks, I have had to speak to you in class over numerous issues, from being late or inattentive in class to general poor academic quality. And today you seem to have been in outer space. This is not an acceptable behavior for a young lady from Beardsley."
"Yes, Sir. I'll do better."
"I wish I could believe that, but I don't feel that I am reaching you. So I am sending you to see Headmaster Michael."
She looked up at him; her eyes wide open in fear.
"No, please don't. I'll get better," her big eyes begged for a second chance.
"I'm afraid that's not possible. I have already spoken to the Headmaster about your situation. He's expecting you in his office at three o'clock today. And I would make sure you are prompt, not like you are with me."
Justine looked at her watch, two forty-five.
"Couldn't it wait for Monday, Sir? It's the three-day weekend."
"Would you like to tell the Headmaster that you can't find the time to meet with him and that he will have to wait until Monday? I don't know what's wrong with you, Justine, but I hope the Headmaster can instill a little discipline in you! Now get out of my sight and into the Headmaster's office before he punishes you for being late."
Justine gathered up her books and ran out of the room. Punish her? Were the rumors true? Does he physically punish girls? No one does that anymore. He is probably just going to lecture me as the last Headmaster did. And, maybe a little detention. She would be out of his office by four, looking forward to a three-day weekend of relaxing. She walked slowly, dreaded the confrontation. Justine wasn't comfortable with other people, especially authoritative ones. His office was only around the corner and she had fifteen minutes to get there. She paused at his door, caught her breath, and smoothed her skirt down over her hips. She continued to hold her breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in," came the booming voice behind the door.
She slowly turned the door knob; the large ornate wooden door creaked ominously as she pushed it open. Headmaster Michael was behind the desk, dressed in a white cable knit sweater, the fall weather gave a bit of a chill to the air. His sandy blond hair hung down on his forehead, a five o'clock shadow already appeared on his face. He had a rugged face, sculptured features. He looked to be in his mid-forties, hard to tell the age of older men. Brandy was right; he did have a handsome face. He had not looked up as she walked toward his desk. She glanced at the clock that ticked away on the credenza, an antique that counted time noisily. It
rang once, three fifteen. Three fifteen? She looked down at her watch. It said two fifty five, not three fifteen!
She looked over at him, he stared at her.
"The same thing I noticed, Justine. You were to be here at three o'clock. Not three o' one, or three o' two. And definitely not three fifteen."
His face clearly displayed his anger. She stammered,
"My watch says it's not even three yet."
"Are you saying my grandfather's prize clock is fast?" he shot back, his voice raised in anger. She couldn't say anything, tongue tied, her head hung down.
"Just as I thought, Justine. No respect for authority. Sit down!"
She quickly sat down; the meeting went from bad to worse.
"Look at me when I talk to you," his voice gruff and angry.
"Yes, Sir," she stared into his eyes; saw the anger there.
"You seem to lack any basic discipline, Justine. The reports I've heard from some of your Professors are nothing compared to the insolence I see for myself." He looked at the clock, almost three thirty, the Board would already be there, waiting, making sure they wouldn't miss a thing.
"I think you need some lessons to help you remember. Get up and come with me. Quickly now," not giving her a chance to even think about defying him. "Leave your books and purse here and take off your jacket, you won't need them. You can get them later when I am finished with you."
"Where are we going, Headmaster Michael?" She was afraid. Could the rumors be true?
"I haven't got time for you to question my every single move. I expect complete obedience from you. Anything else will bring about punishment. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir." Headmaster Michael led her toward the door on the opposite wall, opened it and pushed her through. On the other side was a large room, dark except for a small light in the corner that barely lit the walls.
"Stand in the center of the room."
She stood, trembled in fear, the room made more ominous by its darkness, the dim bulb barely lighting strange-shaped objects covered in some thick material. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the far wall, so large it took up almost the entire area. She heard a click and then the room was bathed in the brightness of ceiling lights. Another click and a spotlight shone down on her from above. She looked up, barely making out another covered object directly over her head. Headmaster Michael moved toward her, her mouth moved, then she quickly remembered his instructions-and his threat.
"You know why you are here, Justine?" He was only inches from her, his hot breath on her face.
She didn't know whether to respond or not, fearing the threat of punishment. She thought for a moment.
"To be taught a lesson," remembering his words.
"That's the first thing you've gotten right. Let's see if you can cooperate." He picked up the rope hanging down from the object above her, pulled on it, grabbed the heavy cloth that covered it as it slid off, letting it fall to the floor before kicking it over to the side. He saw her looking up in fright as he slowly lowered the object. He knew she wanted to say something, to protest, to ask what it was, anything but silence, but she already feared him. That was good. She had seen something like this in the history books, during the Puritan times. It looked like a pillory: a large wooden plank with a hole in the center and two smaller ones on the sides. It was
connected to the ceiling by two heavy iron chains, one on each end, the plank divided in half, one end hinged, the other had a hasp and a heavy iron lock.
Michael smiled when he saw it. It was even better than he had expected. Most pillories had the arms and neck along side each other. This one had the arm holes up higher, almost a foot higher. It was built for a female. With the arms raised higher, it left her breasts completely unprotected and a clear target. Target for a whip, a tawse or even a paddle. The person doing the whipping would be able to get a good clean swing, able to put more power behind each blow without worrying about hitting her arms instead.
Justine watched it move down from the ceiling, clanking as it moved until it was behind her back.
"Stay there!" He ordered her when she started to move out of the way.
"Please, what are you going to do?" She couldn't keep quiet any longer, fear overtaking her emotions. Most of the students had gone, she was alone with him, and no one expected her for days.
He moved close to her, his face only inches from hers. He put one hand on her hip, felt her flinch from his touch, his hand insistent, pressed deeper into her side, his large hand easily able to grip her slim waist. He moved his other hand to the back of her hair, grabbed a handful of it and yanked her head back hard. Her eyes opened wide in pain, tears formed.
"Shhhh, Justine. No one can hear you in here. It's just you and me for the next two days." He looked into her
tear-stained face, her look of fear made his cock hard.
"I'm going to teach you how to obey. When I worked in other schools, I found that corporal punishment works exceedingly well. You know what corporal punishment is, Justine?" He smiled.
"You mean like spanking?" she sobbed.
"That's only the beginning, Justine. Only the beginning. Now raise up your hands," he commanded her. "Now, Justine! Raise them up, now!"
He moved behind her.
"Stare straight ahead at the mirror." He opened the pillory device and let one end swing open and out of the way. He moved the other larger piece toward her, adjusting the height the closer he got to Justine.
"Hold still while I get this adjusted correctly."
She watched him in the mirror, the wooden pillory moved closer and closer. Would he really put her neck and arms in it? Maybe he was just trying to scare her. Put her in and then, after a few minutes of lecturing her, would let her go. No one would actually do more than that.Michael swung the pillory closer to her, pushed it until it hit the back of her neck, and noted with pleasure the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. He gripped her waist tighter as he moved it closer, snuggled tight against the back of her neck.
"Push your wrists back until they hit the wood," he made his voice as authoritative as possible, f***ed her compliance, once he had her bound he would be free to explore her body at will.
She shivered in fear, the heavy wood banged against her neck, afraid of him, her wrists followed, the heavy wood massive against her tiny arms and neck.
"Please don't do this to me," she begged, tears formed in her eyes, afraid of the fate ahead of her.
He moved in front of her, pleased at how she looked. She was dressed in the school outfit; the dark blue sweater seemed to cling to her breasts. With her arms raised they pushed up higher, the tips pointed to the ceiling. Her blue plaid skirt clung to her shapely hips and molded over her tight butt, the blue knee socks highlighted the wide expanse of pink flesh between her knees and where the short skirt barely hid her treasures from his view. He swung the heavy wooden pillory in front of her, slowed down when he got close to her first wrist.
"Hold still so I don't pinch your skin. This is very heavy and I don't want to hurt you with it." He watched her
freeze, her arms trembled as he touched her wrist, made sure it was in place, moved the pillory tighter, the wood now in front of her face. He raised her chin into the air.
"Hold your head up," her view cut short, the unknown terrifying to the teenager. He noticed the lining of the neck hole, hard rubber, a small inflatable bulb nearby. Not an antique invention, someone had modified it with newer technologies. Once the neck was inserted and the pillory locked, a few small pumps of the bulb would inflate the industrial strength balloon around the neck, acting both as a cushion to the sensitive throat and larynx but also allow for varying neck sizesespecially for the small female neck-able to tighten and constrict against it. If pumped up too much, it would be possible to cut off or severely limit the supply of air to the victim.
She gulped as the wood began to enclose her neck, the smell of the wood permeated her nose as it moved closer. She felt her other wrist enclosed, and began to panic as Headmaster Michael clamped the pillory stocks together, a loud clang as the iron lock was snapped shut. She panicked and tried to jerk her hands free, the wood pillory doing its job, her wrists trapped tightly between them.
"Settle down now, Justine. You can't get out; relax and get use to it. You're going to be in for a while. I'm going to tighten the band around your neck. Now don't panic." He grabbed the bulb in his hand, made sure it was in front of her face, he wanted to see the panic in her eyes.
"Please, Sir. It's already tight enough," Justine begged, though it was fairly loose, she was afraid of what he was capable of. She heard the whoosh as he pumped the bulb, felt the rubber collar instantly inflate, tighten on her neck. Her eyes bulged as he continued to pump the bulb, the rubber collar tightened in bursts as if it were pulsating. The collar cut deep into her neck, her breathing constrained, panic set in. Would he cut off her air; could he be that cruel?
Her face turned from a pretty pink to white, another pump on the bulb tightened more, her complexion went to a blue as she began to slowly asphyxiate. He released a small amount of air, not wanting her to pass out; just wanting her to feel the control he had over her body.
"In case you decide to refuse me," he pumped again, saw the panic in her face as it constrained her neck tightly again. He paused, let it sink in then released some air, the collar loosened but still wrapped tightly around her neck.
"Just in case you forget how much control I have over your body, Justine."
She let her body relax, her upper body now restrained tightly, her arms bound in the pillory, she gulped, tried to get use to the tight collar around her neck. Breathe deeply, Justine thought to herself.
"Let's get you a little stretched out, Justine, I want to see that lovely little body of yours," as he pulled on the chain, the pillory slowly rose, pulling not only her arms up higher, but at the same time her neck. She squirmed, her feet danced back and forth as her body stretched, her neck yanked upward as a chiropractor would do.
"You're going to have to get on your tiptoes for me, Justine, I want your body tall and lean. Let the muscles in your legs extend, give them such a lean look. I like that in a girl."
She rose on her toes-the tight collar pulled her up by her neck-to try to relieve some of the strain. She got off the balls of her feet, Headmaster Michael still pulled the pillory up; balanced on her toes, not sure how long she would be able to do this, her toes already ached. If she stayed this way too long, her feet would begin to cramp; she was afraid she would hang herself.
Meredith watched the three men in the room stare intently through the window. They were all in the early sixties, well dressed, educated, and very wealthy gentlemen. If people only knew of the perversions they loved to inflict on the young school girls - but maybe they already did know. The british aristocracy was always tight lipped, glossing over shortcomings that carried from generation to generation. Beardsley School for Girls was established by the grandparents of these and other men like them, a place where troubled girls from wealthy families could be re-trained and accepted into british elite universities. The dark side, the scholarship girls provided a ready supply of nubile, impressionable girls who could be trained to perform the unspeakable acts that were required of them, a tradeoff they or their parents made for a chance at a life that would normally be beyond their grasp.
She looked through the window, Michael enjoyed himself with Justine, her expression not nearly as excited as his. Her body stretched tall, her long legs taut, balanced precariously on her toes as she slowly swung, Michael pleased at the way she was presented. Her face showed the strain as she was literally being stretched by her neck.
"He does well in presenting her, doesn't he?" she asked the others.
"Such a lovely girl. I can't wait until he gets her naked," Doctor Lenox responded.
"He takes his time. It's much more humiliating to slowly strip them, f***e them into very degrading positions that highlight their naked bodies, more especially for inexperienced girls like Justine."
He moved toward her, whispered in her ear, so those behind the mirror couldn't hear.
"Your body looks so lovely, Justine. I'm going to enjoy you very much." He moved away for a minute, a rope came down from the ceiling, a strap hung from it.
"Now be a good girl and raise your leg up. I want to secure it with this strap. I want to see under that pretty skirt of yours."
He waited, she would not willingly do this. He tugged on the rope supporting the pillory,
Justine suddenly jolted upward, the wooden pillory pulled tight around her neck, her chin pointed upward, her toes pulled from the floor. She began to turn white, her eyes bulged out.
"Are you going to obey, Justine, or must we always play this silly game?"
She felt him release the tension on the rope, the pillory once again lowered, but still balanced on her toes. It felt like her jaw was going to break, the wood unyielding, her jaw the only thing that would give. She let one foot move out, difficult to do while standing on only one foot.
"Please let me down a little," she begged, her leg stretched out at knee level, already ached, not sure how long he expected her to keep it that way.
Michael let her down some, her one foot now flat on the ground.
"See, I can be nice if you cooperate, but I need you to raise your leg up higher. It's so lovely."
She strained her leg almost up to her waist, her skirt bunched up on her thigh. She knew that he could see under it, her panties probably exposed, but that was the least of her problems. Her leg ached.
"Gladly, Justine," his hand reached out and gripped her ankle tightly, raised it higher, made sure it stayed straight, his other hand under her knee, he wanted her to feel the pull in her muscles and in her crotch. He looked down at the sleek leg beneath his hands; her skirt pulled back, a glimpse of the pale blue panties underneath. The hand under her knee grabbed the strap from the rope, wrapped it tightly around her upper thigh, pushed her skirt out of the way as he did.
He yanked; the strap compressed her flesh, made her grunt in pain. He pulled up on the rope, her leg now supported by it, he continued to pull up, higher and higher, pushed her leg outward, opened up her crotch to him.
She felt her leg open wide above her waist and below her knee hung uselessly, back on her tip toes to keep from falling over. He finally stopped, her knee well above her waist, Headmaster Michael's hand held her thigh pushed out, his eyes on the wide expanse of naked thigh that went all the way up to the blue panties that highlighted her pink skin. Would he m***** her?
Why else would he have her spread so obscenely?
"What are you going to do, Headmaster Michael?"
"You have such a delectable body, Justine. I'm going to play with it while you are hanging here. Maybe masturbate you. Could you cum for me, Justine?"
"Don't touch me!" She instantly recognized her mistake; Headmaster Michael stared into her eyes with an evil glint.
"I will do what I want with your body, Justine. For the next few days your body is mine to play with. Some of it will be pleasurable but you will also feel pain. After a while you will submit to the pleasure if for no other reason than to stop the pain." He stroked her face as he watched resignation sink in, her body bound for his pleasure.
"Yes, let yourself go, give in to me." His hand slowly slid up and down her legs, her muscles tight, his calloused hands enjoyed the silky smooth inner thighs; smooth, delicate skin that he would soon mark with a whip or a strap. He let his hand slip her skirt up,
"Let's get this out of the way. Yes, such lovely panties, Justine," she tried to move away as his hands slid up her thighs almost to her crotch.
She turned red, her skirt shamelessly thrown aside by Headmaster Michael, her naked leg bound and spread by the rope. She could never have imagined such a thing, to be humiliated like this, bound and hung like a piece of meat in a meat market, unable to stop him from doing anything to her. Even if she screamed, she doubted that anyone would hear, or even care. Most had left for the holiday, leaving her alone at the hands of the Headmaster. She felt those calloused hand rub harshly across her skin, the skin she daily rubbed lotion on to make it silky, the skin she protected from the sun. She jumped, his hand moved higher, almost to the edge of her panties. No, don't touch me there. Afraid to confront him; afraid of the consequences; the
rubber collar still wrapped tightly around her neck.
Headmaster Michael moved back a bit from her, one hand still on her leg, he admired the thrust of her breasts. Her arms were held up high, unable to protect the soft globes,
Headmaster Michael eager to feel them.
"I love a girl in a sweater, Justine. I love the tactile feel of a firm set of breasts beneath a nice soft sweater. And you have such a nice pair." She shut her eyes, she didn't want to see as he moved toward her, his hands eagerly in search of her breasts.
She'd had many boys paw at her but, except for the one that took her virginity, she fought them off successfully. She pulled on her wrists, the pillory held her firmly in its grip.
"Open your eyes, Justine. I want you to see everything you are going to experience." He moved closer, his fingers lightly ran over the top of her breasts, his fingers flowed over the soft sweater material, her youthful flesh underneath it. He stared into her eyes, his fingers slowly moved back and forth, tracing her cleavage, his cock jumped at the image of it buried tightly between them, tit fucking her until he came on her face. He made the circles bigger, spread out, fanning out toward her nipples. He looked surprised to see them protruding from the sweater.
"It looks like you're enjoying this, Justine, your hard little nipples are poking out your sweater," he teased.
She couldn't believe that her body responded! To be bound, ready to be punished, his fingers taking liberties with her body that she would not allow, yet she couldn't deny that her nipples were hard, hard as pebbles. She turned red in shame, unable to understand why.
"Arch your back for me, Justine, and I'll let my fingers encircle those hard tips. You want that don't you? You want my fingers to touch them." He moved his finger closer, encircled her areolas, pushed harder on the flesh beneath his fingers, saw the tips spring out, begging to be touched. He continued to tease around the nipple, bigger, teased erect, but she still refused to arch her back for him. He let his hand slip down on her naked leg, felt her, his other hand still encircled her breast, then pinched the tender flesh around her nipple.
She screamed, her back arched, her breasts f***ed out, Headmaster Michael's ready fingers clamped on one tightly. She moaned loudly as his fingers pinched the sensitive tip.
"What did he do?" Doctor Lenox could not understand why she all of sudden arched her back for him, stuck her breasts out for him to touch. He looked at Meredith.
"Look at his other hand," and pointed out Headmaster Michael's other hand on her naked legs now gripped her sex in his palm, one finger dug deep between the lips of her pussy, clenching and unclenching on it like it was a baseball.
Justine was shocked by his touch. One minute she begged to have her nipple touch, then resisted his order to push her breasts out for him. The next minute he had gripped her between the legs, her bound and spread leg that left her defenseless. The large hand so callously gripped her between the legs, knocked the air from her lungs, Justine so unprepared. His fingers rubbed her pussy lips back and forth. She couldn't help herself, her back arched, her breasts stuck out, begging him to touch them. And he did. Michael seized one thrust out breast by the nipple, pinched it between his rugged fingers, and sent delightful pain through her body to mix
with the pleasure he gave her between the legs.
Headmaster Michael, pleased with the way she performed, hoped the Board was also pleased with his ability to put a girl through her paces. He had so much more to do to Justine, he moved his hand away from her pussy, her panties already damp.
"That was a good girl, Justine," two hands now pinched and pulled on her nipples, "keep your back arched for me, stick your breasts out for me to play with," he ordered her, noting she enjoyed his hands. "See how
much pleasure I can give you?" he encircled both breasts in his large palms, gripped the springy flesh, squeezed them, felt their resilience.
"Yes, so nice beneath that soft sweater. But you know what I have to do next, don't you? I want to feel your naked breasts. I want my fingers touching your naked nipples," squeezing her breasts in his powerful hands.
She felt so naughty; his hands so casually caressed her breasts while she willingly thrust them out for him. She wished his hand was back between her legs; her bound leg left her so open, and now so empty. She couldn't help herself; she was bound, unable to stop him from having his way with her, already forgetting the punishment he had promised. She felt his hands touch her stomach, pushed under her sweater, touched her naked skin, she knew that he would be pulling up the garment. She looked down as his strong hands grabbed the sweater, pulled it over her bra, up to the bottom of the pillory, and tucked it in. She felt his hands reach back down, fingers over her naked breasts, lightly touched the breast flesh that pushed out the top
of her bra, slipped down in the valley between them, back and forth.
He didn't wait long before his hands encircled the blue matching bra, a frilly garment that barely contained her ample breasts. He squeezed them both, pushed the flesh out the top of her bra.
"I can't wait any longer," Justine's eyes opened wide when he pulled out a knife, "I'm going to cut it off, that and your sweater. You won't need any clothes for a while; I'm going to enjoy you very naked." He laughed at her distress as the knife made short work of the flimsy garment, a few snips on the shoulder straps, not even bothering to unsnap the clasp in the back, easier to slash the edge, let her feel the knife "accidentally" nick her under her arm, he relished her gasp of pain. He let the bra sit on her chest, knowing the men in the other room eagerly waited the sight of her naked breasts.
He looked into her eyes as his hands moved down to her bra, the knife cut all support, the garment just laid on her breasts now. Suddenly, he ripped the bra from her, her nipples turned hard instantly; they stood out over an inch, the pink tips long and extended from the tug of his fingers. Her large dark brown areolas sat in a sea of white flesh.
Michael loved young girls' breasts, their nipples stood out so proudly and there was no sag. They made such nice targets, surprising the girls when he took a whip to them, not really being able to believe that someone would do something that cruel and painful to them. But he did, he loved to take flexible rods to their nipples, to ignite a pain that they couldn't believe. He reached down and grasped her breasts, loving the feel of her warm flesh, feeling her hard nipples in his palms as he squeezed them.
"Keep your back arched for me like a good girl, Justine," his fingers ran around the areolas, a ragged fingernail over the brown flesh, tiny bumps popped up, moved closer to the hard nipple.
His fingernail hurt! It must be a jagged fingernail, like a knife around her nipple, but she kept her back arched for him, waited, knowing that he would touch her nipple with that ragged fingernail. She knew it would hurt, but the pain was different now. She moaned, his fingernails over her nipples, a finger snapped at her erect nipple, slapped it back and forth harshly.
Michael moved his head down, her eyes watched him. His tongue ran down her cleavage before his mouth clamped onto one of her nipples, sucked it deep into his mouth, the nipple stretched at least two inches, his teeth biting into the flesh of her areola keeping it trapped in his mouth. He let his hot, rough tongue lap at the swollen flesh, slapping it back and forth while she moaned vehemently. His other hand reached over for her hanging breast, his fingers pinched and twisted that nipple painfully.
It felt so good, her nipples so sensitive, as he took advantage of her bound arms, unable to stop him from doing anything to her, his mouth sucked her nipple as she imagined a baby would do. But this was different, she wished she could put her legs together, could rub her thighs together, her pussy throbbed with desire. She almost wished his hands would return to between her legs, grab her by the sex again. She knew she would cum if he did.
Michael pulled his head back, her one nipple glistened with his saliva, both nipples now a darker red from the abuse by his fingers and mouth, tiny teeth marks laced around one areola.
His cock throbbed with the thought of how they would look with the marks of a whip on them. He moved to the side, giving the Board a good look at Justine naked from the waist up, seeing the lust in her face as he slowly aroused her sexually.
"You want me to touch your pussy, Justine, don't you?"
She looked at him; shivering from the way he made her body feel. He was so much older than she was, it shouldn't be this way. She shouldn't be so sexually aroused, yet she couldn't deny the feelings coming from her sex. She knew her panties were soaked, humiliated that he would soon find out how much she really wanted it. She couldn't hide it, with her leg pulled up high, her pussy so open to his touch, he had unencumbered access to her pussy.
He reached his hand down and gripped her on the back of her naked legs before he slid his hand up until it reached her panties. He moved higher, gripping her tight ass, so full, his hand loved the feel of her buttocks as she tightened her muscles.
"Such a nice bottom, Justine. Very nice. You like me touching it?" He let his hand run over her ass, fingers tracing up and down her crack, her cheeks tightened when he did.
She had not expected that, his hand grabbed her bottom instead of her pussy. His hands gripped her cheeks, she tightened her buttocks together when he went too far and tried to touch the crack in her bottom, afraid of where his fingers would go next. She felt his hands move down again, then slip under her panties, pulled outward by the rope that held her leg open as he grasped her naked cheeks. Fingers moved over her cheek, felt her crack.
"You don't like that, do you, Justine?" He pushed his finger in harder; her muscles tightened more, as he teased her. He would wait until she was naked. Then he would spread her out on a different piece of equipment, spread out with no way to stop him from enjoying the tiny asshole between her cheeks. He pulled his hands out, but not out of her panties, he tore them from her, the blue panties easily ripping by his powerful hands.
Her panties dug into her flesh, especially her crotch, before they were ripped free; Headmaster Michael pulled them from her body. Naked now, her skirt still on but pulled back, not covering anything. She saw his stare, his eyes burning a hole between her legs.
He touched her bound leg and pushed it out, bowed it, opened up her pussy to his gaze. It was the sweetest thing he had seen, a small patch of hair at the top, closely cropped into a V, the rest of her pubes naked, a pair of puffy lips unable to contain her pink pussy from his gaze, the bondage did an effective job of leaving her vulnerable and exposed. He let his hands touch her inner thighs just shy of her pussy, grabbed her roughly, knowing that she was probably creaming herself.
"You have the prettiest cunt I've seen in a long time," he used the coarse word to describe her pussy, seeing her turn red in embarrassment. His fingers moved up to her pussy lips, spread each out to the side, ready to peel back her lips, eager to see her pink pussy, her tight vagina.
He saw the lust in her face. She wanted to cum. He touched her lips, pulled them back as he dug his fingers in, watched them part, her pink inside opened. He gripped the puffy flesh, her wet, silky pussy lips exposed, glistened in the light.
"You're so wet. Ask me to masturbate you, Justine." He looked at her face, so young, but the unmistakable look of a girl on the edge of cumming. If she hadn't been bound she would have had her fingers in her pussy, finger fucking herself until she came. But for now, she would have to beg him to do her.
God, please let me go. Please let me do it myself. I need to cum so bad, my pussy is so hot.
Headmaster Michael watched her, waiting for her response, wanting her to say it, to humiliate her. She hesitated before she finally whispered, "Please."
"Please what, Justine? What do you want me to do to you?"
She hesitated again. "Please masturbate me," she murmured.
"And what, Justine?"
"Make me cum," humiliated at having to admit it, to ask him to make her cum.
She jumped as if touched by a bolt of lightening, his finger slowly ran up and down her slit, her juices immediately soaked it while he inspected her inner lips, his fingers touched every bit of wet flesh, up and down, all over her vagina, feeling how tight she was.
He was like a doctor as he examined her. Justine allowed him access to the most intimate places on her body. He held her body open as he ran his fingers up and down her slit, bowed her leg back, her pussy gaped wide, embarrassed at how she must look, the pillory not allowing her to see.
Michael ran his finger around her vagina, a tiny little hole. She hadn't been fucked much. The thought pleased him. Once he tenderized her skin with a whip, made her more willing to fuck him he was going to test that little hole. He pushed with his finger; felt her slowly open for him,
"Such a nice tight pussy, Justine," pushed harder, her body tightened on his finger. His finger slid in easily on her juices, a tiny gasp escaped her when he pushed in to the knuckle, twisted his finger, massaged the soft sides. Her hips began to move,
"Let me feel how tight you are, Justine. Tighten your pussy on my finger, show me what a good girl you can be."
She heard his voice urge her to perform for him. It was embarrassing, making her tighten her pussy on his finger like a trained dog, but she needed to cum and it wasn't as if his finger didn't feel good. He seemed to discover new places inside her that sent shivers through her body, places that even she hadn't known about. Maybe it was just because she had no choice, the bondage prevented her from protesting what he was doing.
"Mmmm," squeezing tight, "Mmmm" again, feeling as he twisted his finger when she tightened on it.
"Yes, like that, Justine. I like that."
She felt proud of herself that she pleased him. She couldn't understand why she felt she had to, but she continued to squeeze, his finger so big inside her.
Michael slipped his finger out, back in, this time two fingers slid inside, felt her stretch to take the digits. She would be so tight around his big cock.
"Squeeze again, feel how full you are with my fingers, Justine."
She wished she could bow her other leg out, give him more room, his fingers twisted and turned inside her, his knuckles rubbed hard on the sides of her pussy. She could almost cum just from his fingers, if only he would touch her clit. Soft moans as she tightened on the fingers, held her muscles tight as he moved within her. God, it felt so good. She released, his finger plunged deep inside her until his knuckles painfully banged against her opening. She felt him start finger fucking her, each time in deep, then out and back in again. She just had to cum!
"Please!" she begged him.
Michael looked at her, "What do you want?" He would make her beg for it.
"My clit, please, touch it," the lust reflected in her voice.
"Of course my dear, I'd love to do that. I want you to cum for me." He pulled his fingers from her pussy, felt her tighten on them as he did, not wanting them to leave. One hand went around to her bottom, slid along her flanks before finding the crease in her buttocks, let it slide sensuously up and down, teasing the tiny anus, not touching it but stopping just short. His other hand moved up, fingers pushed aside her pussy lips, two fat fingers slid on her juices until it hit her clit, suddenly he pinched the erect bud in their powerful grip. He thought she would jump out of the pillory, her body jerked up and down.
"Yes, Justine, ride up and down on my fingers, fuck back." He let his finger slide down to her anus and pushed on the tiny opening. She jumped again, her body sought to get away from the finger, push her swollen clit into the fingers that gripped it so tight.
The touch was electric, the hard, brutal touch of his fingers on her clit. She expected a gentle touch, surprised when the pain mixed with the pleasure, her body shook in ecstasy as the highly-aroused organ was so harshly handled, bucking up and down, not sure whether she tried to avoid it or make him pinch harder. She didn't have time to even think about it, his other hand slipped around to her bottom, slid close to her anus, the forbidden spot between her cheeks.
She cried out as the finger pushed against her defenseless anus, the thick, calloused finger slowly ground on the opening, his other fingers twisted her clit painfully.
"God, no! Not there!"
She threw her head back in protest as she felt his fingers on her most intimate opening, a place that shouldn't be touched.
It was so tight, her sphincter fought the intrusion of his finger in her asshole. He ground the tip on the tiny opening, her struggles made it more difficult. He pinched her clit hard between his fingertips, her piercing scream, the pain forcing her asshole to relax and gave him the chance he needed. His finger plunged inside her rectum, his dry finger dragged painfully inside. Her hot, tight asshole clenched on his finger.
She thought he was going to tear her clit off, his fingers dug harshly into it. As she screamed in pain she jerked, his finger plunged into her anus. She'd never felt anything like it, a strange burning sensation followed by the thick finger rubbing her clenching muscle. His finger returned to her clit, snapped the aroused bud back and forth until she exploded, her hips ground back and forth to feel the pleasure of his finger but at the same time escape the ruthless finger in her backside.
She came harder than she had ever before, her body covered in sweat, her nipples swollen with lust, the juices ran down her thighs as his fingers continued to manipulate her body against her will.
"God, yes!" His finger pulled from her asshole to plunge inside her pussy, two fat fingers fucking her without regard to the pain or pleasure it inflicted.
Her body jerked in pain when he "accidentally" banged a fingernail into her soft inner walls only to return as his fingers plucked such pleasure from her clit. Her asshole still burned, as if it was still full of his finger, spasms of her anus gave her a strange tingling between her legs. He pulled on her clit, another orgasm hit, his fingers played her young body. She began to cry, sobbed as she came, humiliated at being f***ed to cum by Headmaster Michael, his fingers still kept her sexually aroused, a third and final orgasm shattered her body. She slumped down exhausted from the ordeal.
"Ssshhh, Justine. You're such a good girl to cum like that for me. If you're good, I will make you cum so much more," stroking her head as he cradled her body, his hand still played across her bush, rubbing her lips, his fingers wet with her cum. He so enjoyed the way she cried. They watched her cum, her naked body hung beneath the pillory as Headmaster Michael continued to manipulate her body, keeping her legs splayed open so they could see her pussy gush.
"See how he fingered her asshole and still made her cum," Meredith commented to the others.
"He kept her sexually aroused and made her suffer the pain in order to get to the pleasure.
"The next part you will enjoy. He told me that he's going to whip her and I'm sure that her various sexual parts will receive the brunt of the punishment. I understand he loves to whip a nice pussy, forcing her to spread her legs for the whip. And those lovely tits will dance under it as well. I don't think he'll be able to hold out after that, taking his sexual gratification with her body."
Michael pulled the pillory open, removing Justine from it, holding her to keep her from falling, her body exhausted from the extended orgasm he had just induced in her.
Justine was so thankful to finally be released from the constraining pillory around her neck. While he had done some painful things to her body, it hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be, the pleasure overcoming her pain. Hopefully he would now let her go, the humiliation of being f***efully masturbated her punishment.
"Thank you, Headmaster Michael," his arms still cradled her. He let her slump to the floor, and moved away from her.
Michael pulled the canvas cover from the next piece of furniture. She wasn't even paying attention, still too exhausted, slumped on the floor. He liked this one, another heavy wooden pillory, but this one was a bit different. It had a large base on the floor with interconnecting pieces, each having various mechanisms to make the pieces go up, down, left or right. The top piece was similar to the other, but it was at a right angle, Justin would have to bend over to stick her head and hands in the holes. He went over to where she was, bent down and lifted her up under her arms, not missing a chance to touch her breasts.
"Over here now, Justine. It's time again."
She looked up, caught a glimpse of the wooden structure out of the corner of her eye, turned her head to stare at the massive, wooden structure.
"No! Not again!" It was almost like the last one, a place for her head and hands, but on the floor it was built for two legs to be placed into.
She struggled, but Headmaster Michael was too powerful.
"Shhh, Justine, settle down," pushing her over to the pillory. This one was easier, already open, he f***ed Justine down by pushing down on her head until her neck fit so nicely into the hole.
"Put your arms up and in them, I won't tell you twice."
She complied, not sure why, her body too exhausted, the fight taken out of her. She saw the wood under the neck hole stained dark, victims' saliva having soaked it. She put her hands up, her legs pressed tightly together, her thighs sticky with her cum. He released her head, the shadow of the pillory fell down until she it touched the back of her neck and wrists, Headmaster Michael banged the padlock noisily. She tried to move but it was as before, the thick solid wood secured her tightly. This time the neck fit tightly, she hoped that there wouldn't be a rubber collar. She didn't like when her breathing was so constrained, it had made
He looked down at her, her skirt still around her, but naked from the waist up. She was bent over, not quite to the waist, but it did allow her breasts to hang freely beneath her. Her naked back, still damp from sweat, angled downward, her butt pushed out, her skirt clung to it, Headmaster Michael knew that beneath it she was naked. He smiled as he saw her legs tight together, he laughed at her foolish attempt to stop him from getting between her legs. Soon she would willingly comply, spread her legs for him, and let him visit the whip up between her thighs to slap harshly on her naked pubes.
"You look very lovely like this, bent over, your nice plump bottom sticking out."
"What are you going to do now?" He had moved out of her range, his hands on her back the only way she knew where he was.
"I'm going to tenderize your lovely body, Justine, with a whip, paying special attention to your bottom, your tits and between your legs. Yes, your tender pussy is going to feel the sting of the leather. I'm going to enjoy making you scream in pain. It's going to make my cock very hard. And you're going to help me, Justine. You're going to spread those tanned thighs for me. Real wide so the leather can slap your inner pussy lips. You won't believe just how much that will hurt."
"This is what I like," one of the Board members stated and reached down to make his hard cock comfortable in his pants.
"Maybe Headmaster Michael can get a girl for you to whip. How would you like her?" Meredith asked certain the headmaster would be pleased to help him.
"Can you string her up into the air by her ankles, upside down, legs spread wide? I have a razor strap that I would love to use in the area between her legs. Maybe even take it to her tits, make them dance for me."
"That would be perfect. You could then pull her up when you finish until her mouth is level with your cock. I'm sure that she would be more than willing to let your fuck her face. Either that or you could whip her pussy more, her choice." They both laughed.
In the meantime, Headmaster Michael had moved a mirror in front of Justine. "I want you to be able to see in back of you, to see what I am doing to you. And also to see my special toy. I want to make sure you have every chance to avoid the pain it could inflict on you if you cooperate.
But first, let's get rid of that skirt. It's covering a nice naked bottom." He let his hands roam freely over her bottom, felt her tight butt beneath it. He took out his knife again, sliced the skirt down the seam, the rag fell to the floor. He admired her bottom, thrust out for him.
"Yes, I like that," his hands returned to touch her flesh.
Justine hadn't even moved when he stripped the last of the clothes from her body, his hands returned to caress her naked skin. She clenched her thighs together, determined to keep him from the treasures nestled between them. She looked into the mirror, a double reflection off a mirror behind her, shined back the image of her backside. She looked so obscene, her butt pushed up in the air, naked, the crack in her butt so crudely exposed, her clenched thighs her only relief.
Michael moved to the side of her where she could see him. He reached over and grabbed one of her breasts, milking it with his hand like a cock, the tit hung down, the nipples not yet hard.
He picked up a flogger he had just bought. While it was not what he was used to, he thought it appropriate for his new position. He let his hand run through the fall.
"This is an Classic Flogger, Justine. It is built to sting, with 40 falls, that vary in length at 12 inches, 18 inches
or 24 inches. It is an excellent flogger to go into hard to reach places, the alternating lengths of the falls make sure that every part of the body, even the darkest recesses, will feel the sting of this suede flogger."
"You can't use that on me!" she proclaimed, the pillory shook as she tried to pull free. She was getting her strength back, but it was too late, the pillory held her secure.
"I'll let you feel it a couple of times on your back, just so you will know what to expect." He drew the flogger up into the air, let it fly, then landed it on the center of Justine's back with the signature "thud" as all 40 falls tore into her skin.
Justine screamed in pain. He had been right, the sharp sting concentrated on her back. It hadn't been just one spot, but the whole area; she was sure that her skin was torn. She did not have time to protest before a second and more powerful "thud" disturbed her scream of pain, her agony doubled, her back a mass of conflicted pain.