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.