Finding Myself

I eased back a little but her muscles were now insistent trying to suck me in. Lost in our private interplay my pain was all but forgotten except for a blushing heat that was slowing spreading to my groin.

I tried to push this unsettling development to the back of my mind and concentrated on gauging Chloe's growing arousal. I found that I could tease moisture from the walls of her sex with the tip of my tongue and, as I did so, she started to breathe more raggedly.

I must have been engaged with her for some minutes but I had no sense of time passing. Her body began to shake almost imperceptibly as, even now, she tried not to give in to increasingly pleasurable sensations.

I felt an odd sense of achievement but this was balanced by a measure of guilt as I squirmed my own sex against the hardness of the bench. Fortunately I was given no time to reflect on this development as Chloe finally surrendered.

She did her level best to hide it from the others but a sudden increase in heat was followed by a series of uncontrolled spasms. She quickly clamped my head tightly between her thighs, presumably to give the impression that she was visiting fresh tortures on me, but there could be no doubt. I had brought her to a crashing orgasm.

Chapter 2

As they walked off and left me I could tell from the awkward silence that things had not gone quite to plan.

They loosened off the straps so that I could, with a little effort, free myself but now the pain returned with a vengeance. It was not just the cut of the poles but the cramp from being restrained.

At some point my skirt had been raised and my panties pulled down. As I strove to make myself decent a growing feeling of humiliation reignited into a burning anger.

My first thought was to get back to my rooms and shower but by the time I had crossed the field I had changed my mind. Trembling with rage I stormed into the administration building and made my way to the Principal's office.

I knocked at her door and entered without waiting for an invitation. Meg Dowland looked surprised to see me but quickly regained her usual cool composure. She was seated at her antique desk with her back to a picture window which allowed a view over the playing fields.

"I'm sorry. Did you have an appointment? I don't seem to have anything in the book."

Notwithstanding the various on-line tools at her disposal she kept a leather desk diary. Before my courage failed me I blurted out.

"I'm here to report an assault."

She was in somewhere in her mid thirties, a high achiever, but her mannerisms were in keeping with someone much older. Now, for instance, as she looked up at me over the top of her glasses.

"Has someone been hurt?"

The question brought me up short but then how was she to know that I was the victim? I rephrased it.

"I have been assaulted."

If I was expecting sympathy it was not forthcoming. She looked me up and down and calmly asked.

"By whom?"

I felt a new surge of anger. For all she knew I could have been reporting a sexual assault by one of the senior boys but she seemed completely unfazed.

"It was Chloe, and the others."

"And the nature of this assault?"

Her tone, as if there could be some doubt in the matter, rankled even more and when I next spoke it was with an exaggerated enunciation.

"They tied me down and took it in turns to whip me."

If she was shocked she did not show it.

"When did this take place."

"Less than fifteen minutes ago. Out by the bleachers."

She looked slowly over her shoulder at the view from the window and I realized that, had she been looking in that direction at the right moment, she might have been in a position to witness the proceedings albeit from a good way off.

She looked back at me.

"Who was with you?"

For a second my confidence deserted me but then I answered boldly.

"There was no one else from the teaching staff. Just the girls and me."

She raised an eyebrow in mute surprise.

"As I recall, my first instruction to you when you arrived was never to be alone with them. You either stay within the CCTV coverage area or you make sure you are accompanied. Was I not clear?"

"Perfectly, but we were on the school grounds..."

She gave me a withering look.

"So there was no independent witness?"

My anger got the better of me. I turned my back on her and whipped up my skirt.

"Look what they did to me!"

"Calm down, and show some decorum."

I was speechless but she ignored my obvious agitation and picked up the phone.

"Miss Anders. Would you step into my office for a moment."

Gail Anders was Dowland's admin assistant but doubled up as the school nurse. She came in from the outer office just as I was adjusting my skirt.

"Let Miss Anders take a look."

A second earlier I had had no compunction about exposing the damage to my legs but, now that I was asked to do it again, I felt abashed. This was in part due to the fact that Gail was not much older than me but seemed more street-wise. I had the sense that she would never have allowed herself to fall victim to the girls in the same way that I had.

I slowly lifted my skirt and heard her quietly wince. Before I could say anything she knelt behind me and began to run her fingers gently up my legs.

After a few seconds she looked across at Dowland.

"Another hazing incident?"

The principal nodded almost imperceptibly and I nearly choked.

"This was not 'hazing' it was an unwarranted assault!"

Anders ignored my outburst as she continued her examination.

"Would you pull your panties down a little for me."

I could not help but look at Dowland but her face was a blank. I thought about insisting on some privacy but neither woman seemed to find it strange. I awkwardly peeled the material away from my buttocks whilst trying to keep them in place as best I could.

Gail furthered her examination and I was struck by the coolness of her fingertips. Unwittingly her touch was easing the pain and for a second or two I felt myself drifting away. I was brought back to reality as she eased a single finger between my legs.

Before I could say or do anything she asked another question.

"Just the back of your legs?"

I must have appeared bemused as Dowland saw fit to explain.

"We see things like this all the time You would be amazed at what these young girls are prepared to endure in order to secure a place in the sorority of their choice. Mild sexual abuse is not uncommon."

My eyes flicked to hers as she said this but her expression remained neutral. I looked over my shoulder at Gail and said quietly.

"Just my legs."

She withdrew her finger and continued her examination of my buttocks whilst I returned my attention to Dowland.

"What can the school do about it?"

"In truth, very little. Even if the victims give us names the accused will simply claim it was consensual; besides which, there are always one or two few natural masochists on campus just to confuse the issue."

I could not quite believe what I was hearing and her smile seemed a little condescending.

"Don't look so surprised. I've even known of one girl who paid to be abused."

Behind me Gail got to her feet.

"It's not too bad. The skin isn't broken. You'll have a little bruising but it will disappear quickly enough. I'll let you have some arnica and you should take aspirin for the pain."

I felt that she was making light of it, perhaps in an effort to stop me taking it further, but I was not prepared to take issue with her. Dowland rose from her chair making it clear that the interview was over.

"Go on home and rest. Come and see me again tomorrow."

I reached the apartment in a daze and could not bring myself to look in the mirror straight away. Instead, I took a long shower and whilst the heat of the water aggravated my pain to begin with it soon began to abate.

When I finally started to dry myself I cautiously examined the damage and was stunned by what I found. There was a ladder of welts but rather than the vivid red I was expecting they were already fading to pink. They were overlaid by a distinct cross, and I had no doubt that this represented Meryl's handiwork, but apart from a little yellowing, which suggested bruises to come, even these marks were waning.

I could not believe that so much pain could have resulted in so little visible evidence. I desperately wanted to phone Sean back home but there was a good chance that he would be asleep for the night.

I gently rubbed in the arnica that Gail had given me and, for a fleeting moment, relived the touch of her fingers.

"Get a grip."

I rarely speak out loud to myself but this was one such occasion. I put the lotion aside and flopped onto my bed lying on my front. I could feel my skin glowing and, reverting to a comforting habit of my teenage years, I slipped my hands beneath me and cupped my groin.

I tried to free my mind but I could not rid myself of the memory of what I had been forced to do. With my eyes closed I was confronted with an image of Chloe's sex. Anxiety immediately made my heart beat faster and, without thought, I curled myself tightly.

The image was so vivid that I imagined that I could smell her but it came as a shock to find that the scent was my own. I pressed a single finger between my legs and immediately felt an unexpected wetness.

It was disquieting but, at the same time, I felt the tension in my body begin to ease. I lay flat once more but, whether consciously or otherwise, my finger was now centred on my sex and I began to rock almost imperceptibly.

As the seconds passed it sank deeper and the edge of my thumb brushed against my clitoris. The bed began to creak softly as I fell into a rhythm but as the sensations intensified so did the pictures painted by my imagination.

I was still with Chloe but now we were alone. She was languidly sprawled across a circular bed, her back upraised on a mound of soft white pillows. My mouth was tired but she pouted coquettishly and I could not refuse her.

Beneath me, my hand was almost a fist and I let my weight bear down on it. I was seeking pain to purge my thoughts but I only succeeded in increasing my excitement.

It was so terribly wrong but the more that I let the image come into focus the closer I came to orgasm.

I could see her eyes glinting with mischief. She was letting me know that when she was sated my punishment would follow. At once, I was keenly aware of the pain that had already been inflicted upon me but the residual heat of it was as nothing to the furnace that was being stoked between my legs.

I was grinding myself against my hand and I was beginning to perspire in a most unladylike manner but I could feel myself building towards the most powerful climax I had experienced in years.

It reminded me of my very first, the sheer physical effort of reaching the summit and the momentary anxiety that my tiring fingers would not get me there.

As I drove myself on I buried my face in the coverlet to stifle an imminent scream but as the wave broke over me I had to turn my head to gasp for breath.

It was incredible. My body was shaken uncontrollably and each time I thought I could take no more I was raised to a new plateau.

When the final tremors had ebbed away I did something that I had never done before. I lifted myself a little and brought my clammy hand to my mouth. With only a modicum of guilt I sniffed softly and then I tentatively began to lick my fingers.

On one level it was soothing but I knew, deep down, that I was simply reinforcing the memory of my encounter with Chloe. This revelation frightened me and I immediately stopped but I still held my fingers to my face and surveyed their telling wetness.

I was lost in a mindless reverie when I was shocked back to reality.

"Smells like someone's having fun."

Chapter 3

I grabbed for my discarded towel and turned to find Ruth standing in the doorway.

Ruth was another teacher on campus and she had kindly agreed to put me up for the duration of my nine months sojourn. She was supposed to be away at a conference until the following day and it had not occurred to me to lock the bedroom door.

"Ruth! I wasn't expecting you."

"So it would appear. I'm sorry to barge in on you I heard noises and I didn't think that you were due home yet."

She said it with a knowing smile that almost seemed to suggest that I had skipped school early simply to come home and indulge myself.

I was at a loss for words. At nearly fifteen years older than me Ruth was far more self assured; a dark haired beauty who had never married but, if the accounts were to be believed, she had broken a number of hearts.

Ever since my arrival she had been cajoling me, in the nicest possible way, to join one of her 'man hunts' and I had to keep assuring her that I was happy with my lot and content in my relationship with Sean.

Still trying to cover my modesty I began to dissemble.

"What happened to the conference?"

"I was bored rigid so I skipped the last day. Besides, the first two days gave me the accreditation points I needed. "

Ruth was seeking a promotion to Principal and was attending workshops and seminars to pad her c.v. She was an excellent, highly motivated, professional but she knew that her marital status raised unwarranted questions in the minds of some interview panelists.

I was willing her to drop the conversation and leave the room but, to my horror, she walked around the bed and gently lifted the towel that I was desperately clutching.

"What have you done to yourself? It looks as if you sat on a griddle plate."

My immediate thought was to lie but as Ruth was de facto number two to Dowland there was every chance she would get to hear officially.

I gave her a truncated version of events, leaving out the sexual assault, and she looked thunderously angry.

"Those bitches! Are you sure you're okay?"

As she said it she sat down beside me on the edge of the bed and brought my head to her chest. She stroked my head gently and spoke a little more calmly.

"I'll speak to Meg. If needs be we'll drag them in one at a time and get one of them to buckle."

I welcomed her support but now I was having second thoughts. If I could not bring myself to reveal to Ruth the true extent of my ordeal did I really want it broadcast to the world at large?

I struggled with my troubled thoughts and it took a moment to realize that I now had my hand against her breast. It was an autonomic reaction harking back to my childhood when my mother comforted me in a similar fashion.

The difference was that my mother's breasts would be armoured by a formidably functional bra whereas now there was just a warm, vibrant softness.

Ruth was wearing a raw silk blouse which crossed her breasts and tied to the side. Worn with her bolero jacket it looked very chic but from my present vantage point it afforded me a voyeuristic view of her impressive décolletage.

For a second or two I was hypnotized by the steady rise and fall of her chest and I was unnaturally attuned to my index finger under which I could feel the distinct texture of her nipple as if I was reading Braille.

I had no idea what motivated me to do it but she seemed totally oblivious as I moved my finger just a millimetre or two to confirm that her nipple had begun to engorge.

Ruth is proud of her breasts, and rightfully so. They are larger than mine with a distinct uplift and, on our evenings out, she would often go braless. Whilst I had no interest in the male attention we inevitably attracted she played up to it and her physical excitement was sometimes very much in evidence.

Her nipples are large and very prominent and she enjoyed the attention they brought and effect that they wrought. It was sometimes difficult to square away the marked difference between her gregarious night time persona and the highly regarded teacher she was by day.

She was undoubtedly an extrovert but she was not obviously promiscuous. To my knowledge she had only had one partner stay overnight whilst I had lived with her and, by all accounts, her relationships lasted for months before she grew bored and moved on.

She petted me for another moment of two but then gently eased me away. I had dampened her blouse with my breath making the distension of her nipple more obvious than it should have been and I automatically dabbed at it with a corner of the towel.

"I am so sorry."

"Not to worry. It's going in the wash and I need to shower."

As she spoke she unfastened the blouse's tie allowing it to fall open. Her breasts were still covered but their firmness could now be appreciated. I must have stared for a fraction of a second too long causing her to misconstrue.

"They're real. All nature's own..."

As she said it she held her blouse apart revealing her assets in all their glory.

"...Feel, if you don't believe me."

I was taken by surprise and the more so as she took hold of my hand and brought it to her breast. It felt deliciously weighty, enticingly warm, and my fingers seemed to curl around it of their own volition.

I should have made light of it, perhaps even playacted, but I lingered longer than the situation warranted. I remained frozen, unable to act, but Ruth brought me back to earth.

"Have you ever done it? With another woman I mean."

Her directness, like many Americans I had met, never ceased to amaze me. The question was not an invitation, it was simply asked out of genuine curiosity, but it was something that even my closest friends at home would never presume to ask.

I was taken aback and withdrew my hand abruptly. My recent experience left me lost for an appropriate answer and, instead, I asked.

"Have you?"

She smiled and leaned forward a little.

"Once, after a fashion. When I first started at the school I shared an apartment with another teacher – she has since left, before you ask. I came home one evening with a man in tow and we started making out on the sofa. To cut a long story short she returned unexpectedly and, somehow, she became a part of it."

I smiled.

"Lucky guy, every man's dream."

"Lucky me, more like. I get the impression that she was after me all along. I was certainly the focus of her attention. When she went down on me it was incredible, the best I've ever had. She made me come again and again until I was screaming the walls down."

"And the guy?"

"You know, it's funny, I had the feeling that he was humiliated. One minute, he was super stud, and the next he knew he couldn't compete. There was no way he was going to get me as high as she did."

"So what happened?"

"He didn't even try. He made excuses and left."

"And so? You and her?"

"It was awkward and, finally, I had to move out. I liked living with her, I liked the things she could do to me, but there was no way I could reciprocate."

"You mean it carried on?"

She laughed as she replied.

"Only for a couple of days. She was so eager she wore me out."

"And you did nothing in return?"

"I made it clear from the outset; I told her I was straight and that I was going to stay that way."

"But she still tried?"

"Incredible isn't it? She was prepared to spend hours going down on me knowing that there was never going to be anything in it for her; but perhaps she was just wired that way."

I felt a tiny frisson of arousal as I imagined the scene and, for the space of a heartbeat, I saw myself rather than the girl nestled between Ruth's thighs. Shocked at myself, I blinked the image clear, but only to catch her staring at me with her beautifully penetrating brown eyes. She leaned a little closer and spoke conspiratorially.

"I'll try it again some day...no man ever came close."

Her blouse had opened just a fraction but enough to allow a fleeting glimpse of her pert nipple. I had seen her breasts before. When she was in a hurry to get to work she thought nothing of dashing between the bathroom and the bedroom without covering herself but there was now a new, unspoken, familiarity.