The Girls College Ch. 03

While aimlessly wandering around the front of the Jane Marwood Hall, Paul was approached from behind by a short, thin girl with jet black hair and her taller brunette acquaintance. He was brought to his knees and his hands that were previously covering his genitals were parted away so that his insipid manhood was exposed to them.

He nervously looked up at the girls from his kneeling position as they each reached into the inside pockets of their white blazers and retracted white latex gloves from them. The girls pulled the gloves onto their hands, snapping each glove on loudly.

"So you're the new boy, hmm?" asked the shorter girl.

"Y- Yes," he stuttered, having to clear his throat as he spoke.

"From the orphanage?" she asked, tightening the glove on her small right hand.

"Yes,"

"What's your name?"

"Paul, Paul Edwards," he said nervously.

"OK. Stand up straight, Paul Edwards," she said, and he got up from his kneeling position to stand in front of the two young women dressed in identical uniforms to Jude, the girl he had been following earlier.

The taller of the two girls knelt down on one bare knee, so that her eyes were level with Paul's semi-erect member.

"It's in a strange state, wouldn't you say, Laura?" asked the girl, visually examining his penis of which the head was glowing bright purple.

"It seems as if he's been milked recently," she replied, also bending over to get a closer look.

The shorter, black-haired girl took Paul's scrotum into her gloved hand and started to gently roll his testicles between her fingers.

"His testicles feel quite empty," she commented, and Paul wondered how she could feel something like this. He turned a bright shade of red as he saw two girls dressed in school uniforms walk by and quickly glance at him before giggling to themselves.

"I've also noted the bright purple colouring of the head," said the taller brunette as she thoroughly inspected his freshly-milked shaft between her gloved fingers. Without warning, she started to slowly stroke his shaft with her hand. Paul groaned in pain as her hand reached the sensitive head of his penis. She raised her eyebrows at the sound he made, before stroking very quickly for a few seconds and watching as he fell to his knees in pain.

"Why is your puny little cock so sensitive, boy?" asked the girl who had stroked it, now sliding her hands from the gloves.

"I- I don't know," he replied, staring at the floor to the girl's polished Mary Jane school shoes.

"Don't lie to me," she said, raising her foot to tap his chest lightly. He looked up at her. "Who milked you?"

"Nobody, n- nobody milked me," he stuttered in fear, looking up at the girl's beautiful brown eyes.

"We'll take him to the Headmistress, she'll make him talk," said Laura, withdrawing her small hands from the latex gloves.

"Please, no," he begged at their feet, the taller of the two sniggered.

"Get up," said Laura, pulling Paul up by his soft hair. "Follow us."

He followed them as they walked along a cement walkway in front of the hall, the small heels of their shoes loudly tapping as they walked. Paul looked at the three large buildings that stood in a line next to the hall. The first was a two-story brown brick building and the other two were large, three-story cement buildings that towered over it. They took a right turn as they reached the first, and Paul followed the girls through the wooden front door.

They quickly walked up the stairs to the second level and were greeted by a wooden door that read "Headmistress Vanessa Smith" on a gold plate. Laura's small, soft right hand placed three gentle knocks on the door before turning the doorknob and opening it slowly. Behind the wooden desk in the room sat Miss Smith, with her hands folded in her lap. She was dangling her shoe from her right foot under the desk as she looked at the two girls in the door.

"Come in, girls," her shrill voice spoke and the girls both stepped through the door to reveal the nude boy behind them. Miss Smith sighed as she saw him.

"You've barely in the school for an hour and you've already been brought to my office, Paul," she said, disappointedly. "What has he done?"

"Well, Miss, he's been refusing to give us answering upon questioning him," answered the taller girl, almost sounding happy to have brought him to the Headmistress's office.

"What has he been questioned about, Jessica?" asked Miss Smith.

"We found him aimlessly walking around the front of the hall, and found his penis to show obvious signs of being recently milked," answered the girl who was called Jessica. "Yet, upon questioning him about this, he refused to give us an answer."

"I see," she replied, nodding as she looked at the naked boy in the doorframe. "Come over here, Paul. I shall have to inspect you first."

Paul's bare feet slowly stepped onto the soft carpet floor of the Headmistress's office and he approached her desk to stand in between the two girls. He watched as Miss Smith wheeled her leather office chair backwards and opened the top drawer. Her hand reached inside and he saw it retract a pair of, now familiar, white latex gloves.

As she got up from the chair, a latex glove was snapped onto each one of her hands. She walked around the desk until she stood facing Paul. He looked, with his head slightly tilted downwards to adjust for her shorter height, into her blue eyes covered by oval-shaped glasses. Miss Smith looked down at his penis, still semi-erect with the head still glowing a bright shade of purple.

"Well, it wasn't done by someone very experienced," she said, her hands extending to start fondling his manhood in them. She raised his shaft up and she remarked about how small it is again, making the girls giggle. The purple tip of his shaft was rolled in between her thumb and forefinger, making Paul wince and groan. "The sensitivity in this area would suggest that no lubricant was used either. So, I can't help but think that it was self-inflicted. Was it masturbation, Paul? Did you play with your little willy?"

"No, Mi- Headmistress," he said, gulping loudly. He stood with his arms by his sides and stared at the wall straight ahead to avoid looking at any of the pretty females with their eyes set on his privates.

"Did someone milk you? Did someone play with your willy for you?" asked Miss Smith, pinching Paul's sensitive penis head and making him gasp.

"No, Headmistress," he said, recovering from the sudden pulse of pain that was inflicted to his member.

"Alright, Paul," started Miss Smith. "I'm afraid that refusal to answer questions from your Headmistress teacher has great consequences. Since it's barely your first day at this school, I'll let you off lightly."

He watched as the lady walked back around her desk and opened the second drawer from the top this time. Her gloved hand fished around inside of it before slowly removing an item. Paul's eyes followed her hand as it raised up a large, flat wooden paddle. This time she walked back around and stood behind him, out of his sight.

Without any words being spoken, the girls to his sides forcefully bent him over the wooden desk. He rested his palms on the polished surface, and felt the light touch of a latex-clad finger in the crevasse between his buttocks. Another finger was added and he felt his buttocks being spread apart slightly, so that the dimple of his anus was exposed to the cool air of the room. His arms were still pinned to the desk by Jessica and Laura.

The Headmistress gave no warning before forcefully shoving her finger through the walls of his anus. Paul groaned loudly as the woman's unlubricated finger intruded his rear end, much like their previous encounter in the cellar. The uncomfortable, sharp pains he had experienced before hit him again as her dry finger painfully wiggled into his rectum. Paul yelped as the lady's finger curled inside of him, hitting a tender spot inside him.

"Paul," said Miss Smith after clearing her throat, her finger still roughly massaging Paul's burning prostate. "Unless my unlubricated finger buried inside your bottom can produce an answer, I shall be beating you until I get one. I'll give you a few more seconds to think about it, how about that?"

Her finger retracted halfway, and just as he sighed in relief she shoved it back inside, making him scream as her finger started to brutally saw in and out of his hole. Paul felt as if his anus was going to be ripped open as she thrusted it in deeper. He squealed and she smirked, the girls pinning him to the table sniggered. Tears started to form in his eyes as she pulled her index finger from inside him, and Paul felt like his bottom was on fire.

"So, I'll ask you again," started Miss Smith, running her fingers across Paul's buttocks. He was panting loudly. "Who milked your poor little penis, Paul?"

"I don't- I don't know, Headmistress," he replied, still out of breath.

"How can you not know who stroked your little knob?" she asked, and before he could stutter a reply he felt a hard strike to his buttocks. A split second later there was an extreme stinging pain across the width of his rear. The impact knocked his breath away and he couldn't fully recover before Miss Smith's wooden paddle landed again.

"It was-" he was cut off by another hard slap of the paddle. He groaned, the girls having to strengthen their grip on him as he tried to break free.

"It wasn't me,"

Slap, slap, slap.

"Who was it then, Paul?"

Slap, slap, slap.

"Miss-"

Slap.

"It was Miss Finch!"

Slap, slap, slap.

"Good boy," cooed Miss Smith, and saw the two girls looking at each other in shock. "I hope it won't be such a struggle next time."

She ran her gloved right hand across his burning buttocks, and he squirmed throughout his sobbing as she did so. Miss Smith watched his small feet rise up onto their tiptoes as she slowly tickled the red-coloured skin of his bum.

"I think it's time you take Mr. Edwards to the nurse's office, girls," said Miss Smith. "I have something to tend to."

The two girls hurried out of the room, pushing the panting boy out of the doorway. Miss Smith closed the door behind them and peeled off the latex gloves from her soft hands, discarding them into the bin by her desk. She slowly walked towards the large window of her office and watched as the nude boy followed the two prefects out of the door below. Her eyes then shot up and she looked across the luscious greenery of London Girls College, slowly shaking her head.

"Ellie fucking Finch."

*****

The gold doorknob to Headmistress Smith's office slowly turned and the door was slowly pushed open. Through the doorway emerged Ellie Finch's leather sandals, followed by her slender body and thin face, as it peaked around the door. Her face wasn't bearing its usual, cheery expression. In fact, she was wearing quite a saddened emotion. Ellie slowly stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. She tried not to make eye contact with the blonde lady sitting in the large leather office chair.

"There's no need to try and avoid looking at me, Ellie," spoke Headmistress Smith's shrill voice. "You know why you are here."

Ellie slowly walked towards the desk, her silver eyes looking down at her feet as she lumbered across the carpet floor.

"Sit."

In complete silence, Ellie slowly lowered her bottom to the padded chair opposite the Headmistress. She moved a strand of hair from her face with her manicured fingers.

"I didn't mean on the chair, Ellie," said the Headmistress matter-of-factly. The thin woman looked at her inquisitively. "I meant on the desk."

Miss Smith smirked to herself as Ellie slowly got up from her chair and clambered up onto the wooden desk. She sat with her legs crossed, but Miss Smith quickly opened them up. Ellie saw the Headmistress reach out for her sandals and raised up her feet so that the sandals could be slipped off. Her shoes hit the soft floor with loud thuds.

"Take off your panties, Ellie," commanded Miss Smith.

Ellie was hesitant at first, but knew she wouldn't win and reluctantly folded the bottom of her dress backwards to reveal the light grey knickers underneath. The noticeable wet stain at the crotch was immediately picked up on by the Headmistress, but she remained silent and watched as Ellie rolled the panties down her long, thin legs. Ellie placed the underwear into the Headmistress's outstretched palm. Her grey panties were stretched out in front of her, as the Headmistress visually examined them.

"I must say they are quite skimpy for a lady of your age," commented Miss Smith. "And that's a mighty big wet stain on the crotch too. It's almost as if you've wet yourself."

Ellie was blushing a bright red colour as her panties were so thoroughly examined and the woman doing so was so masterfully humiliating her. Miss Smith slowly brought the panties, now crumpled into a ball, to her nose and inhaled deeply.

"Only one problem," she said. "It doesn't smell like urine."

The grey panties were tossed down next to Ellie's sandals.

"Open your legs for me, Ellie," instructed Miss Smith, calmly as ever. "Keep your dress folded back."

Her commands were obeyed, one slender leg was on either side of her office chair and she gestured for Ellie to scoot up closer. The Headmistress's soft hand slowly started to caress Ellie's labia. She slightly winced at the older lady's touch, but this didn't hinder the process.

"You are homosexual, correct?" asked Miss Smith, her hand still softly running over Ellie's crotch as if it was a pet.

"Yes, Headmistress," Ellie spoke, quickly and quietly.

"So surely this should be quite arousing to you, should it not?"

"Yes, Headmistress,"

"You see, these constant twitches and winces are being caused by what is called clitoral hypersensitivity," explained the older lady. "A female refractory period if you will. It usually occurs for about ten to fifteen minutes after a female orgasm. This could only mean that you have recently had one, is that correct?"

"Yes, Headmistress," sighed Ellie reluctantly, still squirming at every light touch of her clitoris.

"There's no need to be ashamed of masturbation," cooed Miss Smith. "Most ladies do it, it's perfectly natural. My only problem is what it was caused by."

"What's that, Headmistress?"

"Oh, don't act stupid, Ellie," scolded Miss Smith softly. "We both know what this was caused by. It was caused by the boy who I beat just minutes ago, right here in this room. He was bent over the table, pinned down. I didn't even have to use a cane or a flogger. A simple wooden paddle did the trick."

The caressing stopped and Miss Smith planted her thumb right on Ellie's clitoris, starting to firmly yet slowly massage it.

"You really should've known not to stroke the shaft of a boy who's not even been in the school for a full hour."

Ellie's head tilted down again, and she looked in disappointment at the finger massaging her sensitive clitoris. She continued to slightly squirm, but the sensation was becoming rather pleasurable. A sigh of slight pleasure came from her mouth.

"Get off the table."

Ellie slowly scooted backwards off the table, and stood upright with her bare feet flat on the soft carpet floor. Miss Smith looked at the lady before her. An expression of utmost sadness filled Ellie's face.

"Strip."

The long dress parted with Ellie's thin body. Below was a white bra covering her small breasts. Her long fingers reached behind her back and unfastened the bra, slowly sliding it off without a sound. She placed it on the floor on top of her neatly folded dress.

Headmistress Smith slowly slid open the bottom drawer of her desk and took out a steel harness-like object and a small phallic object made of rubber. She raised these items up and placed them on the desk where Ellie could see them. Ellie sighed to herself at the sight of the objects that lay on the desk.

"Bend over the desk for me, Ellie," said Miss Smith, taking a fresh pair of latex examination gloves from the top drawer of her desk. The tall woman followed her orders, and was soon bent over the mahogany desk with her small breasts resting against the cold wood of its surface and her eyes still following the movements of the Headmistress as she slid a white latex glove onto each of her hands.

"Would you prefer to start with your beating or would you rather be chastised first?" asked Miss Smith, disappearing from Ellie's sight as she circled her to see her exposed behind.

"Chastity, Headmistress," replied Ellie in a shaky and strained voice.

"Very well then," said Miss Smith. "I'm going to plug your bottom first, and I find it always proves to be more satisfactory to insert it without any lubrication. This plug means that you'll have to come to my office and request my permission to defecate whenever you need to. Whether you may is up to me."

Ellie blushed at the thought of this and sighed deeply, questioning herself about her actions again.

"Nice deep breath for me, I'm going to insert a finger first," explained Miss Smith, opening the crevasse of Ellie's bum cheeks with two fingers, much like she had done to Paul just moments earlier. "Relax your bottom; it'll make the insertion a lot easier for both of us."

Ellie tried her best to relax for the Headmistress, but before she knew it there was a huge amount of pressure against her anus and the Headmistress's finger forced itself into her sphincter. As the latex-clad finger danced around inside of her, Ellie quickly shifted her weight back and forth between her feet, clenching her teeth in discomfort.

"Oh, you are very tight down here, Ellie," remarked Miss Smith, her finger still feeling around the school tailor's tight canal. "Nice deep breaths for me now, Ellie. I'm going to keep it in for about a minute so that the walls of your sphincter can relax a bit. Stand still now."

The thin woman groaned in pain with the Headmistress's finger still exploring deeply inside her. As Miss Smith twisted her finger inside of her aching sphincter, Ellie shot up onto the tips of her toes, still bent over the desk. The torment of having a dry finger shoved inside of her continued for roughly a minute, before she felt it uncomfortably departing her hole.

"Good girl," commented Miss Smith, reaching for the phallic object that was placed on top of the chastity belt on the desk. "I want you to take another nice deep breath so that I can insert the plug."

As Ellie felt her anus being exposed to the cool air of the room again, and the tip of the plug pressing against her hole, she breathed deeply and felt the object enter her. It was slid in as far as it would go, and Miss Smith left it there to take the chastity belt from the desk. She bent down behind Ellie and lifted her right foot up so that it could step into the harness, doing the same with her left. The harness was slowly slid up Ellie's slender legs and finally she felt the cool metal touch her crotch as it was brought through the gap between her legs. The cold steel almost felt good as it snugly fitted across her labia, but knowing that she was being chastised took all the possible pleasure from it.

One long leather strap was fastened tightly around her lower abdomen, and two smaller ones were tied around the tops of her legs. Two metal clips were fastened at the top to tighten it even more before three locks were shut to hold the steel pad in place. Ellie was now chastised, and would remain so for thirty days.

"How does that feel, Ellie?" asked Miss Smith, tickling Ellie's buttocks lightly.

"Not very good, Headmistress."

"Are you regretting your actions?"

"Yes, Headmistress, I am."

"Perfect. That is the point of this little exercise," remarked Miss Smith, patting Ellie's pale bum with her gloved hand. She looked at the metal strip that fit perfectly into the crevasse of Ellie's cheeks and admired it, satisfied with her work. "And you know what? I know exactly what you need to regret it just a little bit more."