The School of Desperation

Chapter 1 An unusual biology lesson

"Please don't make me go in there. I don't want to."

Emma had spent most of the journey pleading with her father like this. It hadn't worked. He stared out of the window at the students heading up the steps and disappearing inside. They all looked so studious, businesslike. He liked the thought of his daughter studying here. It was a good school.

"Why can't I retake my exams at Bridgetown?"

Her father sighed and turned to her at last, taking in her haughty expression, her perfect hair and make up, a girl he hardly knew anymore.

"Emma," he began. "We spent a fortune putting you through that school and you didn't pass a single thing. You're eighteen years old and you haven't one qualification to your name. Do you really think I'm going to waste any more money on sending you somewhere that clearly hasn't worked for you?"

"But you're paying thousands for me to come here, how is that any different?" She sounded whiny, like a spoilt child. And that was what she was. She'd had years of getting her own way, her first car was a Bentley for crying out loud. No doubt it was a shock to suddenly find she couldn't just bat her eyelashes and change her father's mind on this one.

"I'm not arguing with you. Get in there. You'll be late. And if I hear the slightest complaint from any of the teachers, you can kiss goodbye to your trust fund and your inheritance. Your sister will get the lot."

Emma got out of the car, didn't kiss him goodbye and walked up the stone steps, past the sign reading "Waterford Finishing School, Headmistress: Cheryl Middleton."

Emma looked up at the ivy covered walls, the mullioned windows, it was so similar to her last school, so stuffy, suffocating. But her father seemed to think this one was different. He'd told her nobody ever failed here, nobody knew what their techniques were, it was a secret known only to the staff and those who enrolled, never revealed, but the results spoke for themselves.

Walking along the corridor, clutching a plan of the school and her timetable to her chest, Emma felt odd. Maybe it coming in a week after everyone else had started not sure she would be able to catch up.

Heading past the ladies bathroom, she glanced at her watch. Just enough time to pee before the first class. She frowned as she walked in, forehead wrinkling and lips pouting as she looked round. There were no stalls to separate the toilets, just five gleaming white bowls lined up in a row. That was weird.

Unable to face sitting down to pee when anyone could walk in and spot her, Emma turned on her heels and headed back out the door to her first class. To a passerby she might have looked like the perfect student, knee length pleated black skirt, a white blouse which felt just a little too small. It had fit when it was bought for her but it seemed to have shrunk in the wash or her boobs had grown, now it stretched tightly across her ample chest, the top two buttons threatening to break free at any moment. Her white socks were pulled up over her shins, covering up most of her slender legs, a beige rucksack on her back contained her textbooks and notepads. She had flawless skin, the result of countless spa sessions and expensive creams bought over the years.

Marching alone the corridor, she hoped she'd be able to find a more suitable toilet after the first class and that she'd be able to ignore the growing sense of desperation in her bladder in the meantime, her nerves were getting to her.

The class had just started when she walked in. Glancing round the door Emma watched as about twenty heads turned to face her. They belonged to a group of eighteen and nineteen year old girls, daughters of rock stars, heads of state, aristocracy. All of them looked haughtily at the new girl, not impressed by her lateness, or the smile on her face.

Emma noticed something else that made her frown again. There was a toilet in the corner of the classroom. What the hell was that for?

"Ah, Miss Jones," the teacher said without looking up from her desk. "Glad you could join us at last. Please, come sit at the front."

"Sorry I'm late miss, I got lost."

The teacher glared at her. "Don't make a habit of it. Now class, turn to page 34 of your textbooks. Anatomy of the human."

There was a rustling sound as the class dug out their books. Emma flicked to the page which contained the images of a naked man and woman, Latin terms for each body part written down the sides.

The teacher stood up, taking off her reading glasses. She was in her mid thirties, long blonde hair which she kept having to brush away from her eyes. Her dress would have been eye catching in a nightclub but in a school it was positively scandalous. There was a slit up the right leg almost cut to the thigh revealing a smooth pale skin. Her cleavage was clearly visible, the curve of each breast perfectly rounded. She was wearing bright red lipstick which contrasted with her porcelain skin. Emma kept finding her eyes drawn to that cleavage, waiting to see if anything would pop out of her incredibly low cut dress.

"For those that don't know me," the teacher continued, looking at Emma at this point and leaning over her desk to stare at her, giving Emma an even more outrageous view of her boobs and the edge of her dark nipples, "my name is Miss Welles. I am here to get you all through anatomy and biology. What is it Marjorie?"

An arm was sticking up in the air. "Excuse me miss, may I please go to the toilet?"

The teacher sighed. "Fine, you know where it is, but next time go before class."

The girl stood up but didn't leave the classroom. Instead she walked primly over to the toilet in the corner of the room. Emma was shocked but didn't want to be seen making a fuss by asking about it. As the teacher continued to talk, she watched Marjorie out of the corner of her eye. The student lifted her skirt and slowly lowered her panties to around her knees, perching on the edge of the toilet until a few seconds later the sound of her tinkling pee echoed round the classroom. Emma squirmed a little in her seat at the sound. She was becoming more desperate but there was no way she was going in front of the entire class like that. When the girl finished she reached for a square of loo roll and spread her legs. Emma could clearly see her pussy, she'd never seen a shaved one before. She found herself staring at it as the student dabbed with the tissue then dropped it down the loo, flushed and pulled up her knickers. Silently she returned to her seat just as the classroom door opened.

"Ah, here come the models. Stand up girls and say hello to Michael and Dawn."

A man and a woman, both wearing dressing gowns came to stand next to Miss Welles. They opened their robes and let them fall to the floor. Both were naked underneath.

Miss Welles pointed to the woman first, explaining the Latin terms for each body part, touching the woman's nipples with the tips of her fingers.

"As you can see, her nipples are erect. Why might this be?"

"Please miss," someone piped up from the back. "Either she's cold or aroused."

"Well done," replied Miss Welles. "Both are possible, but it's more likely she is aroused as she knows what today's demonstration will be. Now moving on."

Miss Welles continued the lesson, pointing out the sections of the man's body, finally ending by grasping his penis with her slim fingers.

"Now, what will happen if I begin to stroke him here?"

Nobody answered.

"Well, watch and see."

She began to move her hand up and down the man's soft penis, slowly at first, then faster. In her expert hand, the man's cock began to harden until it was completely rigid, so much larger than it had been, a single drop of precum appearing at the tip. Miss Welles moved her hand away and the model's cock continued pointing proudly upwards.

"Can you see girls?" she asked. "He has become erect. Now watch carefully as I'm going to get these two to demonstrate the next stage in your studies."

Emma watched, eyes wide as the woman lay down on the floor, trying to ignore her ever increasing desperation. "Come and gather round," said Miss Welles. The students formed a circle round the prostrate woman's body, her legs spread slightly, giving them all a glimpse of her slightly damp pussy under a small patch of light pubic hair.

"Michael, would you come stand by me please?" Miss Welles asked. "Now girls, I want you all to hold his penis, see what it feels like. Get to grips with this now and by the time of your exams it will all be that much easier."

The first girl grabbed his cock, tugging it and making him wince. Everyone giggled. "Not like that, he's not a milking machine. Gently!"

One by one all the girls took turns stroking his penis, Michael remained impassive throughout but his erection seemed to become harder as time passed. Finally it was Emma's turn. Nervous, wanting to turn and run, she stared at the naked man, all the other girls watching and waiting.

At last she reached out and took it in her hand, the first penis she'd ever felt. It was hot, almost burning and so firm. She began to move her hand up and down, watching as it twitched in her fingers. She found herself wondering what it might taste like, what that fluid at the head of his shaft would feel like in her mouth, how it would feel to run her tongue along the veins on the side, over the head.

"When you've quite finished Emma."

Emma blinked, realising she'd been daydreaming whilst stroking him endlessly. She let go and blushed bright red. She stepped back, beginning to shuffle her legs from side to side as her bladder sent warning signals up to her brain.

"Please continue Michael," Miss Welles said.

The man nodded and moved to kneel before the woman waiting patiently on her back. He took his penis in his hand and began running it up and down her pussy lips, shuffling his knees forward until he towered over her.

"Observe girls, he's gathering up her wetness to make it easier to slide inside her. Some of you may feel yourselves growing a little damp at this. Perfectly normal, just a sign of maturity and arousal at the show. Just ignore it if it happens."

Michael pushed the head of his cock just inside his partner. He stopped there, waiting.

"Can you see he's inside her now? But by stopping like this, it serves to tease her, to arouse her further. The point of this act is to create babies yes, but enjoyment is key. Always remember that."

The girls shuffled closer just in time to see Michael thrust his hips forward in one single movement, his muscular buttocks clenched as his cock disappeared up inside Dawn's soaking wet pussy. She let out a gasp, as did some of the girls when the two models began to fuck in earnest.

Emma found herself stepping backwards, appalled at what was happening in the classroom. This couldn't be allowed, surely? She vowed to go to the headmistress as soon as the class was finished. Straight after she'd been for a pee though. She knew she should be able to last until the end of class but not much longer than that.

As she became lost in thought, Michael began moving faster, getting closer to coming. He pulled Dawn up and onto him, laying back on the floor. Dawn bent her knees, her tiptoes balancing on the floor, holding Michael's hands. She used him to balance herself as she lifted up off the floor until the tip of his cock was only thing left inside her. She began to ride him, his cock clearly covered in her juices as she bounced up and down, her boobs flying as she went faster and faster.

The rest of the room was silent, watching as the two models approached their orgasms.

"Watch closely girls," said Miss Welles. "You're about to see them come. Michael, please pull out so they can see what happens. Men sometimes enjoy coming on girls faces. This is of course a way of ensuring you don't get pregnant during sex, something you may find useful to know for extra credit."

Dawn lifted herself off Michael reluctantly. She sat on her knees and Michael stood up, wanking his cock as fast as he could. Dawn opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. With a grunt he came, a spurt of cum hitting the back of her throat. Another twitch of his cock and a jet of spunk splashed onto her cheeks. A third jet missed her, instead landing on the arm of the girl stood closest.

Dawn swallowed greedily, then began sucking on Michael's cock, drawing the last of the cum from him. As she did so her hand slipped between her legs and began rubbing her clit gently. As she slid her head back and forth over his cock, she moaned deep in her throat, her body tensing up as she came just from the touch of her fingers. The girls gasped at the sight of her orgasming, it seemed so sudden, so powerful, making her fall to the floor like it did, her breath coming in short gasps, sweat running down her chest.

"Thank you," said Miss Welles as the bell rang. "Class dismissed."

Chapter 2 Complaining to the headmistress

Emma knocked on the headmistress's door.

"Come in."

Pushing the door open, Emma found herself in a large office, all the available wall space was taken up by bookcases full of dusty leather tomes. There was a tall matronly woman sat behind the enormous desk, typing at a typewriter. Not a computer, an actual typewriter. Emma was struck by how old fashioned everything looked, even the dress the headmistress was wearing would have looked better in a 1950s boarding school.

Emma stood waiting, not wanting to interrupt.

"Sit down," the head said, continuing to type.

Emma sat. Minutes passed, the only sound that of clacking keys. Emma began to wonder if it was a mistake coming here first instead of going to the bathroom, sitting down had reminded her how much she needed to pee. But on her map the only bathroom was the one with no privacy. What could she do? Hold it in until her father returned to collect her? Could she manage it? She was so desperate!

Finally the head looked up. "What can I do for you Miss Jones?"

"Please Miss Middleton, I was just in a class and there was a naked man and woman in there."

The headmistress raised her eyebrows at this.

"Anything else?"

Emma blushed, unable to look the head in the eyes.

"They...they had sex right in front of us."

The headmistress looked straight at Emma, a flare of anger crossing her face. "How dare you lie like that."

She began shouting at Emma, an angry rant about the consequences of making things up. Emma, a timid girl at the best of times was quivering in her seat, her heart racing. When the headmistress stood up and started prodding her, she lost control of her body. Her overworked bladder couldn't cope anymore and a squirt of pee squirted from her, soaking her knickers. Emma was just able to control herself before any more came out but the headmistress noticed the trickle running off the edge of the seat and soaking into the expensive carpet.

"Are you urinating in my office?" she asked incredulously, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Not waiting for an answer she wrenched Emma up by the arm.

"I'll show you how we treat dirty liars who can't control their bodies. Are you an adult or a child?"

Bending Emma over her desk, she pulled at the back of her skirt until it fell round Emma's ankles, exposing her white panties, a damp patch clearly visible. This seemed to infuriate the head even more.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked nervously, no longer sure what was normal and what wasn't. Was this a bad dream? Would she wake up and find her first day at school about to start. She hoped so but the head's voice interrupted her reverie.

"I'm going to spank you now and you're going to stay put until I say otherwise."

"But Miss Middleton, please, I need the toilet."

"Well you'll just have to learn to control yourself better won't you?"

Emma squirmed but remained bent over the desk, not wanting to antagonise the head, feeling very exposed with her skirt draped across her waist.

Slap.

Emma nearly shot bolt upright, her last bit of self control disappearing as the burning heat ran through her right buttock at the smack the headmistress had just administered to her. Her bladder relaxed and a torrent of piss, held in since first thing that morning, flew out from her urethra. It soaked her panties instantly and began running down her leg, dripping from her knickers and forming a widening pool at her feet. She stayed perfectly still, not being given permission to move until she had finished.

"You disgusting girl, wetting yourself in my office."

Slap. The head spanked her over and over again, each time cursing and shouting at her. Emma began crying at the pain, wondering when it would end.

"You've been a very bad girl haven't you. Say it!"

"I've been a bad girl miss."

Slap. "And you're sorry aren't you."

"I'm sorry miss." Slap.

At last the head stopped, looking at her victim, her see through panties, the smell of piss filling the air.

"Here," said the head, passing Emma a bottle. "Put this lotion on and the stinging should fade."

"Th...thank you miss." Emma lowered the back of her panties, giving the head a glimpse of her peachy round bottom, each cheek now bright red. The head found herself wanting to bury her face between those cheeks, having always lusted after the innocent girls in her school. But she was controlled enough never to act on those impulses, knowing it could jeopardise her career, even her freedom.

Nothing to stop her watching though. She stood and stared as Emma rubbed the lotion into her bottom, it was soothing but the stinging sensation was still there when the head motioned for her to sit on a chair. She winced as she sat down, wondering if she was about to be expelled.

"Now, for lying I was only going to spank you. But seeing as how you had the audacity to piss in my office, I think something more severe is needed, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes miss."

Miss Middleton reached into her drawer and pulled out some items of clothing. "You are to change into the punishment outfit, reserved for the worst offenders, so everyone knows what trouble you are in. I never thought someone would need to wear it on their first day at school, but here we are. Put that on."

Emma picked up the clothes. This wasn't right. It was a tiny, stretchy piece of fabric, was that a skirt? It would barely cover her panties. And then a bikini top that seemed child size, it would just about cover her nipples but that was all. And nothing else.

"You can't make me wear this."

"Do you wish me to call your father?"

Emma thought, remembering what he'd said. Get booted out of here and she'd be penniless, her useless half sister would get what was rightfully hers, she couldn't allow that to happen.

"No miss."

The head nodded. "You brought this on yourself Miss Jones. Now get changed and go to your next class. You're late enough as it is."

Emma stood up, stepping out of her skirt and undoing the buttons on her blouse.

"Can I keep my underwear on miss?"

"No you can't. It's hardly a punishment if you remain covered up is it? Now get on with it, I've got work to do."

Emma reluctantly undid her bra and dropped it to the floor. The head watched her round boobs spill out, large for a girl that age. She wished she could reach out and bite down on those succulent nipples. When Emma dropped her panties, she had to grab hold of the desk to stop herself from taking the girl and fucking her there and then. She had such a perfect body, shame she had just pissed everywhere though. At least this punishment should knock some sense into her.

Emma stepped into the skirt quickly, wanting to cover up her exposed body parts as soon as she could. She'd shaved her pussy for years but now it seemed lewd, she wanted modesty, not to look like a porn star. As expected the skirt was too small. It stretched over her bottom like a second skin, revealing an inch at the base of each cheek. The slightest bend of her body and she knew her pussy lips would be visible to whoever stood behind her. From the front her pussy was only just covered. This was humiliating, just as the head wanted it to be.