Sarah Porter's Schooldays

Chapter 23. In which Sarah begins her second detention

 

Sarah awoke suddenly. The bright light from the open ceiling shone upon her face, causing her to instantly close her eyes against the unexpected illumination. The first thing the young girl was aware of was the aches that appeared in every part of her body. One part however stood out from all the rest: a deep throbbing between her legs. She could feel the blood pumping into her pussylips with every beat of her heart.

 

Sarah whipped the sheet from her body and looked between her legs, fearful of the sight she would find, sure that she would see her tender lips, red and horribly swollen. She was happily surprised to find her pussy entirely normal. There was a thin sheen on the lower half of her labia and she gently reached down to confirm what she already knew. She could not remember even a tiny fragment of her dreams but her pussy had been creaming even while she was asleep, proving that even in when not conscious she was a slut. Just thinking the word brought reality crashing back down on the sleepy teen. She looked around her dorm and was glad to see that this morning she had awoken early. The gate across the dormitory door was still in place and most of her classmates were still asleep.

 

Sarah took advantage of these rare free moments and took stock of her situation. Her body, as she had discovered, ached all over but she felt refreshed as only a good night's sleep can provide. She brushed her hands across her breasts, noting her nipples were soft, something she knew was soon to change. Her hands moved slowly across the soft skin of her belly and hips before moving down and allowing her fingers to gently trace the welts on her inner thighs. The lines were not as pronounced as yesterday but they were still quite painful. What could she look forward to on this, her third day of training?

 

The hairs on the back of Sarah's neck began to tingle and she knew she was being watched. She instinctively looked in Mitchell's direction. Mitchell was watching her, eyes heavy-lidded, hands on her breasts, gently rolling her nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Sarah reached up and touched the hard metal collar that rested snugly around her neck, and smiled as Mitchell did the same. She looked mischievously at the full-figured teen, her belly tingling with nervousness as Mitchell rolled out of bed and approached her. The young schoolgirl, propped herself up against the wall, pulling her sheet up, self-consciously covering her breasts. Sarah almost giggled as she realised what she had done, surprised at her modesty as she watched a naked girl caress her own bared breasts. Sarah followed Mitchell’s movements with growing desire as her friend padded silently forwards, udders swaying gently as she moved.

 

The still-drowsy schoolgirl shuffled to one side as Mitchell reached her bed and scrambled under the thin sheet. "Morning," Sarah whispered shyly. Mitchell's only response was a smile as she gently rested a hand on Sarah's thigh. She jumped slightly at the touch, before calming down and enjoying the warm hand so resting so close to her . Sarah imagined she could feel the thick cream being secreted by her pussy. The two girls lay next to each other, drawing comfort from the presence of another soft, warm body. Sarah sank slowly down the bed until she was resting her head on Mitchell's chest. She turned, snuggling into her friend, nuzzling the pillowy right breast with her face. She pursed her lips and gently kissed the soft skin next to the nipple before closing her eyes and losing herself in the warmth of contentment.

 

Mitchell's hand traced lazy spirals on Sarah's hip, causing tiny sighs of pleasure from the languid teen. Each spiral grew larger until Mitchell's hand slid down Sarah's back and came to rest on her smooth buttock. Sarah knew the eventual destination of Mitchell's soft, warm hand but the anticipation was something she found intimately exciting. She almost held her breath, waiting for Mitchell's hand to snake down between her buttocks. The buxom girl's fingers were sandwiched between the twin mounds of Sarah's ass, the tips teasingly touching her tight pink asshole. The palm of her hand soon cupped the smaller girl's left buttock in what Sarah felt was the most natural of ways.

 

It was then that the first stirrings began in the dorm room. The other Trinity girls were beginning to wake. Sarah raised her head from its fleshy pillow and looked at Mitchell. Their eyes met and a silent consensus was reached. Mitchell kissed her gently on top of the head and made her way back to her own bed. The door clanged open before she was halfway back and Sarah smiled as Mitchell kept a steady pace, acting as if nothing had happened. She took down her shower bag and made her way to the door, keen to make the most of the early-morning hot water. Sarah all but jumped out of bed, scrambling to join her friend, Murphy appearing at her side as she scanned her tag. She was glad that they would all be able to shower together again, any time she could get with her friends was something to be cherished.

 

"Sleep well Port."

"You know Murph, I really have been. I go to sleep really quickly and don't remember any of my dreams. But I must have been having some good ones last night. My owner's pussy was already wet when I woke up."

"You know Port, I wasn't really too sure about this "owner's pussy" stuff last night when you told us. It sounds silly, I know, but I guess the more I hear you say it the more I reckon that it fits."

"Oh yeah Murph, it really does. Listen, I know that some of the girls here are having a hard time. It's not easy for anyone, it can't be. Our whole lives have changed. But they have changed Murph. And for the better. I know everything is hard right now but don't the things the teachers say make sense when you think about them. I mean when you really think about them and think about how they make you feel. 

 

"I mean Murph, think about why we are here," Sarah explained as she lathered soap on the rough blue wash gloves covering her hands. "We’ve been chosen out of all the girls in the world, from all over. And that can't just be coincidence. Our owners saw something in us, something more than other girls. All girls are meant to be sluts Murph, but some have more potential than others, just like in anything I guess. And it's like if we didn't receive the training to become sluts and to make a better society then it would be like a great piano player never playing a note. I mean that is just wrong."

Sarah looked at Murphy as she washed her own alabaster body. Mitchell was next to her, also hanging off Sarah's every word. It was difficult to judge how Murphy had received her sermon. It was strange but that was  how she felt about her little soliloquy. It felt like she was preaching to her friends.

 

"Sorry for sounding off like that Murph. It's just that we're all sluts. We know we are and we know what we have to do. At first even I thought it all sounded crazy, like we were all in an asylum or something. But every one of us will graduate from here and we will all be great sluts, I just know we will and..."

"Port," Murphy interrupted Sarah, putting a blue-gloved finger gently on her lips. "I know. It's ok, I decided last night that you are right. I don't think I quite have your conviction just yet, I am trying though. And Port, my owner's pussy is now nice and clean."

 

The two girls smiled at each other, both knowing their bond was now stronger than ever.

 

"Oh Murph, we have to really help each other out. Our training is going to be really hard. You heard what Miss Watson said, ‘service isn't easy but that is why it is so rewarding.’ But we can help each other with everything so we can be the best sluts and so we can please our superiors and our owners."

"Port you sound like a teacher," Murphy said, playfully pushing Sarah's shoulder.

"Sorry Murph, it's just that I have made a lot of mistakes but I am glad of each one because I have learned so much and I just want to help is all. You know, so you guys don't make the same mistakes."
"We know Port. That's why you're so adorable. But don't try too much on the others. Mitch and I know, right Mitch," a vigorous nodding of her head indicated Mitchell's full agreement, "but the others don’t understand yet. They are still thinking too much on the past. Let them learn at their own pace."

"Thanks Murph, I will."

 

Once again Sarah felt a wave of pleasure flush through her. She had two great friends, who trusted her and loved her. Her new life was so much better than anything she had had before. Sure her body ached, but she felt so alive. Not to mention her pussy was always so wet, despite the pain, both sharp and dull, she now lived with.

 

The conversation had brought them all the way back to their dorm, where they now began to dress. Sarah slid a finger between her pussylips to confirm that, yes she was wet. Her owner's pussy was wet. Had it been the heartfelt talk with Murphy? Or had it been the proximity of seventeen naked girls, their bodies glistening and twisting as they washed their themselves. No other girls, other than her friends of course, had made any attempt to bathe sensually. Sarah knew they could get in trouble for not conducting themselves in a pleasing way but she reiterated Murphy's advice. She had to let everyone else progress at their own pace. After all who was she to give advice, the girl who had more than double anyone else's infractions, the girl who had earned a detention on the second day of class.

 

Sarah caught herself daydreaming. She would have to watch herself and make sure she didn't waste time letting her mind move down strange tangents. She slid her panties up her legs, expert now at standing on one foot in her four inch heels. She wondered how long it would take for her panties to become wet. Would they already be wet by her first class? Her hands brushed her already hard nipples as she adjusted her bra. She really should stop being amazed at how comfortable the half-cup bra really was. She finished dressing and checked herself in the full length mirror at the end of the dorm. She was cute, she had come to accept that. She knew that the school uniform only highlighted the fact. She turned side on, noting how her hard nipples were visible even from that angle. Her short pleated skirt, hung straight in front and flared out behind her more than a usual skirt. Her legs were slim and her four-inch heels accentuated her slim calf muscles. Mitchell came to join her, mesmerising the young girl with the way her udders pushed against the curvaceous girl’s tight blouse.

 

They smiled at each other in the mirror. Sarah blushed, knowing what was on her friend's mind, knowing she shared those thoughts. Mitchell reached up and caressed the back of  the bashful schoolgirl’s neck before indicating they should go. She could see that most of the other girls were already waiting in the lounge and hurried out to join the lines that had begun to form. In moments she stood behind Murphy, immediately and naturally adopting the correct attention position. Now she had to wait. It was as important a part of a slut's life as sucking a cock. A slut needed to learn how to wait, how to hold a position and how to use her time wisely.

 

Sarah kept her eyes straight ahead and thought about the day to come. She didn't know what her lessons would bring but she knew that during form class she would be receiving seven or eight strokes of the cane, and no matter what else happened she would be ending the day in detention. The thought of returning to the room 17 caused her belly to flutter. What would she be forced to do in the basement rooms? Would the focus once again be on her owner's pussy? Did she still need to have that particular lesson reinforced?

 

Sarah felt she had made great progress in understanding the role her owner's pussy played in her life. But it was not her place to decide what her lessons should be or if she had mastered them sufficiently. Her superiors knew better than she what she needed to learn and the best way for her to learn it. At the thought of her superiors, Miss Peach emerged from her office.

 

"Ah so it seems the sluts can learn," Miss Peach exclaimed as she entered the lounge. "Who was the last in position?"

 

The housemistress walked down the line of girls, snapping her crop against her thigh and looking closely at each girl. Sarah was not sure exactly which girl was last in line but she thought it might have been either Mitchell or her. She knew what she had to do and acted. Sarah stepped out of line to her right as Miss Peach rounded the end of the row of girls.

 

"Hmmm, it also seems that some sluts are much slower learners. Skirt up Porter."

 

As soon as Sarah's skirt was raised exposing her bare buttocks, Miss Peach brought her crop hard against the fleshy mounds. Sarah weathered the first strike admirably, despite it landing directly on the still painful cane marks of the previous day. It was not until the third stroke landed on the tender flesh of her thigh that she whimpered aloud.

 

"Well at least you have learnt something Porter. Your poor behaviour has at least taught you the importance of accepting punishment without a fuss. No doubt your detention yesterday helped and I have a strong feeling your detention this afternoon will help you even more. Now, you can all  stop wasting my time and get down to breakfast."

 

Sarah dropped her skirt and stepped back into line, her ass and thigh still smarting from the hard swats she had received. As the class moved down to the food hall for breakfast the only thing she could think of was the detention that awaited her that afternoon. She ate her breakfast like an automaton, barely even tasting the delicious meal.

 

Her entire morning passed almost in a daze. She received eight strokes of the cane in form period. She paid attention to the new positions Miss Watson taught them. She performed admirably in her cock-sucking lesson. She watched mesmerised as Cox took pride of place in Miss Rice's class to demonstrate the wonder of female ejaculation. She waited patiently in her holding cell after lunch, spending the remaining lunch period reciting her cock-sucking techniques to her handler. She exhausted herself in another gym class, spurred on by Miss Vonn's tireless 'motivation'. She embarrassed herself in dance class, again drawing the ire and special punishment of Madame De Witt.

 

It was not until she locked her collar to the wall of her holding cell and waited in the dark for her handler to accompany her to detention that the fog cleared. Her third day as a student at Harkwood had passed in what felt like an instant. She looked back on the day and remembered all that had happened, though it seemed as if it had happened to another, as if she was playing back a movie in her head. The thought of the detention that awaited her at the end of the day had weighed heavily upon the anxious schoolgirl.

 

It was true that she had found her first detention to be enlightening but it had also been the single most painful experience of her life. The thought of a second, and a third that she was sure to earn before the week was out, had filled her with trepidation and not a little fear. She stood now, at attention in the darkness of the small holding cell, her anxiety causing an unsettling tension in her belly. The thought of Mrs Huffington Smythe standing silently, judging her, was enough to cause a tiny shiver to ripple through her body. Sarah was glad when her handlerfinally opened the door to the holding cell, causing the room to flood with light. She took a deep breath to steady herself as the older girl released the padlock that secured her collar to the ring set in the wall.

 

"Ok Porter, let's move. I have an assignment to do and I want to get as much done tonight as I can. So once you are off to detention I can get on with it."

 

Sarah followed her handler down the hall until they reached room seventeen. So this room was to be where her detentions were held. She dreaded the opening of the door, afraid of what was awaiting her. She watched, her stomach tightening, as her handler opened the door and ushered her inside, the door closing behind her the moment she was over the threshold. In the centre of the room stood the imposing figure of Mrs Huffington Smythe, dressed as yesterday, in a full-body, skin-tight latex suit. The harsh overhead lights reflected off the shiny black surface as the imposing woman stood unmoving before her.

 

"Undress," hissed the headmistress.

 

Sarah stepped to the side and began to remove her clothes, folding each item neatly before placing it in the bag that hung from the hook, high on the wall. She was sure to face her headmistress as she undressed, turning only when necessary. Each time she turned she gave the headmistress a clear view of her ass, both buttocks criss-crossed by a myriad of cane strokes, the bruises of the old overwritten with the welts of the new. The pain in her ass had not left her since the first form lesson two days ago. On the contrary, it had become more intense with each passing day. The eight strokes she had received that morning were to be added to by a further five the following morning. It was a definite improvement but still more than any other girl had earned throughout the day.

 

Once completely naked, Sarah stepped into the centre of the room and stood at attention in front of the statuesque headmistress. She would have sworn that the only part of the woman that had moved were her eyes, the piercing green eyes  never having left Sarah for an instant.

 

"Porter, 97817402. Second detention, third day of training. Today, little bitch, we continue educating your cunt. It is obvious that it has not quite learned its place. Today's session will be a four stage lesson. First, survey the hard work that has been expended to help you to learn," said Mrs Huffington Smythe, indicating the contraption that filled the room.

 

The apparatus consisted of a square of equipment that was set about three feet in from each wall. At each corner of the square was stood a thick, square wooden post that reached to Sarah's hip. The square base of the post consisted of three small steps, each only a few inches in height, forming a tiny wooden pyramid leading up the central pillar.

 

The two pillars to the right were joined by a metal bar an inch in diameter, burnished copper with each end set deeply into the posts. Joining the second post to the third, along the back wall, was a rope, strung tightly between bolts set in each wooden square. Sarah could see small knots bulging along its entire length. Strung between the posts to her left were what looked like multiple strands of wire. Beneath the wire, spaced at intervals between the posts, were small wooden blocks, set two feet apart. Between the final two posts, those at the front of the room, were set 4 thin metal poles, each tipped with a thick black dildo five inches in length.

 

Sarah's apprehension grew as her gaze followed the trail of torturous instruments around the room. On the ceiling, describing a track that followed the square between the posts, hung a shining metal rail. Above the post nearest on her right, a small wheel sat on the rail from which hung a short metal hook.

 

"Step to the right, and stand at attention at station one."

 

Sarah stepped purposefully to the right side of the room, amazed at how steady her movements were. She felt as if her whole body was shaking itself apart. It was strange, Sarah noted, to be standing at attention with her feet flat on the ground. The lack of high heels feeling a little strange after only three days of their use.

 

"Very well you precocious little cunt your lesson today incorporates the importance of you learning the correct mode of thinking, while stressing correct deportment and grace, another aspect of your training which I find to be disturbingly poor. Hands on your head."

 

As she spoke Mrs Huffington Smythe moved behind Sarah. A long length of rope was quickly wrapped around the young girl’s belly, creating a tight belt of rough cord. Her hands were pulled unceremoniously behind her back and forcefully positioned with her palms pressing against her tailbone, her tense fingers resting on the top of her striped buttocks. Her wrists were soon restrained by the same rope that wrapped her waist, trapping her hands behind her back, forcing her elbows behind her to create a pleasing triangle effect. She made sure to keep her limbs looser and compliant, allowing the headmistress to manipulate her body without resistance. It was a strange sensation, to be dominated so fully, to hand complete control to another as if she were just a puppet to be operated.

 

Sarah was left to become accustomed to her bondage for only moments before her elbows were pulled severely together and secured with yet more rough rope. Her shoulders began to ache almost immediately, and she was instantly glad for the stretching exercises she had practiced in both dance and gym class. The painful bondage caused her to thrust her breasts out even more prominently and it was to these that the headmistress now turned her attention.

 

On each nipple was placed a small clamp that dug mercilessly into the delicate pink flesh. Attached to each clamp was a large silver bell that jingled musically when the headmistress let them go. The added weight pulled Sarah's nipples down, reversing their gravity-defying nature, as they were stretched painfully by the weight.

 

Sarah had expected to now begin her task, but as she felt a rope slide around her neck, she chided herself for expecting anything. Not only was it not her place to guess what her superiors would do, but she didn't as yet have enough experience to even make such guesses. She had no idea what form this detention was to take, and this ignorance was after witnessing the infernal equipment which was to be used during the session. She needed to wait patiently, like a slut should, and simply accept what was forced upon her. A slut existed to serve and she was here to serve her owner by learning the error of her ways and improving her behaviour. She had to hold on to that thought if she was to make it through the next hour.

 

The rope was wrapped around the soft skin of her neck numerous times and then  pulled tight, creating a second collar above her metal one. Her breathing was constricted slightly as the rope was pulled tight, but it was little more than an annoyance right now. She could not see what was being done but the headmistress had expertly tied off the rope, creating a loop beneath each ear. Through these loops yet more rope was threaded, reaching upwards and secured to the rail system that ran around the ceiling, above the circuit described by the four wooden posts.

 

"Stand on your toes slut," snapped Mrs Huffington Smythe.

 

Sarah obeyed and the ropes attaching her collar to the ceiling rail were pulled tight. Sarah could lower herself so her feet were flat but she would choke herself in doing so. The ropes were not pulled so tight she was straining, there was enough give for her to lower feet halfway before she began to feel the pressure around her throat.

 

"Right you impertinent little whore, for the remainder of this detention you are to move around the circuit. There are four stations at which you may pause for five seconds. The bells on your tits will indicate the level of effort which you are expending, I want to hear them, unless you are at a station. As your deportment is at such a low level I have provided you with a guide that will help you. Well?"

 

Sarah was sure she had not been asked a question. What was required of her? She quickly thought over what the headmistress had said. She had been offered a guide to help her. She needed to focus, the anxiety and fear she had been feeling in the headmistress' presence was affecting her behaviour.

 

"Thank you Ma'am," Sarah said eventually.

 

"Your manners also leave a great deal to be desired. I have dealt with many little bitches like you throughout the years. Pretentious little prigs who feel that they can do no wrong. Well you have most definitely proved the error in that thinking since coming to this hallowed establishment. Harkwood has not had a worse student in living memory. Tomorrow you will earn your third detention, in one week. The first week of school. Your Sunday will be spent in session, where some much needed discipline will be enforced. The next time you fail to use correct manners in a detention, the session will be extended by 30 minutes. Do you understand cunt?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah replied, trembling in her strict restraints.

"And would this extension be helpful to you?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well then it looks like you will be spending an extra 30 minutes here today."

"Yes Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am," Sarah said, dejected that she had failed again.

"Progress at last," sighed Mrs Huffington Smythe. "Between station one and two we have the rail. An electric current is running through this metal pole. This will help to keep you on your toes where you belong. When out of heels a slut is always most pleasing when on her toes. Do you know why little bitch?"

"Because it places tension on the muscles in a slut's legs and this creates a more pleasing view to her superiors, Ma'am."

"What you say is true. If you become slack in your deportment your cunt will receive motivation. The knotted rope, the stretched wire and the dildo poles round out our stations for the session. Each apparatus has been designed to reinforce to you that a cunt exists only to serve. The only time a cunt should play a part in a slut's thoughts is when she is thinking about the best way she can utilise it to serve her superiors. Step up to station one. Step over the post, now down. Begin."

 

Sarah was standing on her toes, trying to gain as much height as she could. Her thighs straddled the metal bar, giving her a good two inches between her labia and the copper bar. But she was only standing still. Moving was to pose a problem and she hesitated for the briefest of moments afraid of what a shock would bring. The terrified schoolgirl began to step along the bar, the bells hanging from her nipple clamps filling the room with their pleasant tinkling at the smallest of movements. She began to edge forwards, taking tiny steps on her toes, attempting to keep her pussy as high as she could. After a few baby-steps down the copper pole the rope collar attaching herself to the ceiling rail was pulled tight. It jerked her head back and halted her progress. It was only by tensing her entire body did she manage to hold still and keep her pussy and thighs from contact with the electrified pole between her legs.

Sarah pushed her head forward and pulled the wheel along the ceiling track, allowing her a brief amount of slack. The wheel did not move smoothly and she knew it would be a constant battle to keep it moving. She recovered and continued to take tiny steps along the rail,  breathing an audible sigh of relief when she felt the small wooden steps at the base of station two beneath her feet. Stepping up onto the platform, the terrified schoolgirl shuffled her body over the second wooden post and rested for a moment.

 

She was allowed five seconds at each station and she knew she would need them. She could already feel herself sweating and her chest rose and fell as she struggled to calm herself. She was perhaps five minutes into what was now slated to be more than an hour long ordeal. She had completed one obstacle, once. Sarah looked with fear at the knotted rope slung between the two poles before her and visibly trembled with the fear of possible failure.

 

"Move, you lazy little bitch. You just earned an infraction. Do not overstay your rest period again."

 

Sarah stepped quickly down the small steps, bringing the coarse rope into immediate contact with her pussy. She was not sure that tiny steps would avail her much on this particular obstacle as the rope already rubbed the delicate flesh between her legs. The hesitant schoolgirl took a normal step forward, feeling the rope collar pull tight, restricting her breathing, before it yanked the stiff wheel along the rail. The harsh rope rubbed the tender flesh of her vulva, a deep moan of discomfort escaping her deliciously parted lips. It was then that she came to the first of the knots.

 

Each knot in the rope was raised almost an inch above its surface. Sarah tried to step higher to avoid as much of the obstruction as she could but she was already stretched to her maximum. She could gain no more height and the twisted knot pushed forcefully against first her clit, then the rest of her sensitive slit. The abused teen grunted as the rough rope scraped her delicate nerve-filled button. She looked down the length of rope as the first bump scraped across her asshole. There were another seven knots she had to pass before she reached the other side. As she moved along the rope her pussy was rubbed all the more raw and she knew that each successive knot would cause her more pain than the last.

 

"Describe your cunt to me, little prig," demanded the headmistress as she watched the young girl's progress around the circuit.

"My owner's cunt hurts, Ma'am. The rope feels like it is burning," replied Sarah, accompanied by the ever-present tinkling of the bells on her nipples.

 

Pain exploded across Sarah's buttocks. She jumped forward along the rope, scraping her pussy over the fourth knot, losing her balance, pulling the rope collar tight against her throat as the restraining ropes were pulled taut. Sarah squealed, as much from the unexpected shock as from the pain. It had felt as if she had been hit with a switch only multiplied by ten.

 

"Try again," snapped Mrs Huffington Smythe.

"My owner's cunt exists to serve Ma'am," Sarah replied, tears welling in her eyes from the pain and from realising how stupid she had been. She had no idea what she had been hit with but she did not want to feel it again.

 

Sarah yelped pitifully as she passed the last knot on the rope. She had not stopped moving forward as her headmistress taught. She bounced forward glad to be at the end of the second part of the circuit. She was halfway through her first lap. Her pussy already hurt immensely and her calves ached. Her breathing was laboured, causing the bells hung from her nipples to jingle even though she was standing still. She counted to three and moved on to the next obstacle, cutting short her rest in favour of pleasing the headmistress. As she stepped down from the platform at station three, she looked along the wire that ran between it and the next heavy wooden post. She had been keeping her eyes to the front as she progressed around the circuit and this was her first chance to see exactly what lay before her.

 

Five thin wires were stretched taught between the wooden posts. They were spaced a fraction of an inch apart, enough to clearly differentiate one from the other. As she stepped off the last wooden step and onto the concrete floor she felt the wires cut into her pussy. There was almost no give in the thin strands. Sarah moaned as the wires dug into her delicate pink folds. She was unsure how to progress. She knew that small blocks were placed on the floor below the wires but was she supposed to only step on them?

 

As if reading her mind Mrs Huffington Smythe hissed at her. "It is always a shame to be in the presence of a dullard. You alternate between the blocks and the floor. Of course if you wish you can simply slide that cunt all the way along the wires."

 

The restless schoolgirl immediately stepped onto the first block, alleviating the pressure on her pussy. This would require a definite rhythm, Sarah thought. Each time she stepped off a block the wires would dig deeply into her pussy, but she would gain a moment's respite when she stepped up onto the next block. Sarah could quickly see that this part of the circuit was a test of her self-discipline and commitment to her training. She would place herself in excruciating pain each time she stepped off a block.

 

It was then that she realised that, as in her first detention, she was torturing herself. Mrs Huffington Smythe acted only when she required motivation or correction. Was this what the detentions were all about? The slut was required to be her own teacher while in detention, to learn her lessons under her own volition. Sarah grimaced as she stepped down off the small block, splitting her pussylips with five thin strands of unforgivable wire. She felt she had made a breakthrough, though her train of thought was hard to keep on its rails as the pain in her pussy fluctuated as she made her way down the stretched wires.

 

By the time the diminutive teen reached the post at station four, she felt as if great damage had been done to the soft skin of her sex. If she had been able to look down she was sure she would see blood leaking down her legs. She knew that this was not the case but it was hard to stop her mind from slewing down such wild self-destructive tangents. Her three seconds were up and Sarah moved onto the final leg of the circuit. She could see the four dildo poles arrayed in a straight line between station four and one. Sarah stepped to the first pole and was assailed by a familiar smell. She glanced down at the dildo in horror, noting the slimy smears on its black surface.

 

"Eyes forward," snapped the headmistress, as she brought the single-tailed whip whistling across the back of the young girl's thighs.

 

Sarah's arms twisted in their severe bondage as she danced on the spot. She cursed herself for losing focus and breaking another rule. She had only glanced down for a moment but the headmistress was so skilled an educator as to notice even the smallest of infractions. Harkwood was lucky to have such a headmistress Sarah thought as she regained her composure. She turned her focus back to the dildo pole that stood before her. She could tell from the other poles further ahead that the tip of the dildo would be well above her pussy. It meant she would have the full length of the dildo inside her even on her tiptoes and that she would need to manoeuvre herself onto the flexible shaft somehow. There were no small steps provided to aid her.

 

Sarah lifted her right leg as high as she could and swivelled her hip forward, keeping her leg high and to the side. She looked as if she was attempting to climb over a high fence and felt the dildo bump into her mons as she  leaned forward. She felt further resistance but knew that this approach was not going to work. The pungent smell of the muscle cream filtered upwards as the slow burn began across her labia.

 

Sarah stepped back from the dildo pole, desperately thinking of an alternate strategy. The pole itself was clearly made of metal, but the dildo was more flexible. Maybe if she stepped over the pole, the dildo would flex enough for it to bend so she could get it in inside her. Sarah immediately put her theory into practice. She straddled the pole and stepped forward. The dildo flexed and pushed against her mons. Sarah felt she was on the verge of success and pushed forward, feeling the dildo give slightly and continued thrusting her hips forward.

 

The rope around her neck pulled taught constricting her throat and forcing her to take short, shallow breaths. She could not keep this up for much longer. She tried one final push forwards with her hips but was defeated. The dildo simply would not flex enough. Tears coursed down her cheeks. She was frantic to get the dildo in her pussy but she could not think of how to do it.

 

"An idle slut is a slut begging for punishment. Do you wish to be punished?"

"No Ma'am."

"Your laziness tells me otherwise. I am however willing to accept that the inadequacy of your commitment is presently caused by a lack of intelligence. We have already established that while you may have some amenable latent slut instincts, your current level of intelligence is quite low. If you wish to request aid then you may do so, however you will earn an infraction if you do. Well what is it to be?" snapped Mrs Huffiington Smythe as she brought the cruel whip against Sarah's naked buttocks.

"Please Ma'am, I wish to request aid," pleaded the desperate teen.

"Get that cunt up to the pole," ordered the headmistress, punctuating her speech with a flick of the whip across Sarah's already heavily striped backside. "Push that cunt against the dildo, now lift that leg high. Higher! Swivel your leg and hip across the dildo."

 

Each time Mrs Huffington Smythe paused the wicked whip struck Sarah's naked flesh. The whimpering schoolgirl was striving to stay focused but her entire body jumped with each stroke of the whip. The sting of the thin leather tail was unlike any other implement of correction she had as yet encountered. It felt more like a blade cutting her flesh than a strip of leather. She had raised her leg high into the air and could feel the dildo close up against her pussy. But she had tried this already and she had been unsuccessful.

 

"Swivel the leg you lazy little bitch. It is unwise to request assistance if you proceed to ignore it. Keep moving and keep that leg high. The cunt is ready to accept the dildo. All you need to do is facilitate it. A slut needs to know when to work with her cunt."

 

As the whip struck her ass at the headmistress's last word, Sarah flicked her leg higher and twisted her entire body to the side. The rope around her throat pulled tight, causing her to gag, but she felt the tip of the dildo slip past the entrance to her pussy and instantly drive deep inside her. She grunted as five inches of the thick shaft penetrated, pain flashing up into her belly. Her pussy had not been producing any cream and the only lubrication provided was the muscle relaxant cream with which each dildo was coated. She groaned in pain as her vagina adjusted to the sudden intruder and began to quickly feel the effects of the ointment.

 

Now that she was successfully impaled on the pole, Sarah found herself in yet another dilemma. How was she to get off to allow her to advance to the next. She was sure that the same technique would not work, as the dildo was seated deep inside her, well beyond any ability of raising her leg to dislodge. And, she realised, she had earned an infraction for being advised to do what she had already been doing. That, she thought, was a clear lesson in self-discipline and perseverance if ever there was one.

 

"You are here to learn the place of your cunt. It seems that the necessity for a second, and seemingly a third detention is entirely warranted. Now that the cunt is satisfied you slip back into your selfish absorption. It is disappointing to see you resort to the cunt being the dominant force in your behaviour."

 

Sarah struggled to lift her body off the dildo-pole, desperate to prove to the headmistress that her cunt was not ruling her thoughts, that she had not stopped because her pussy was filled. She was desperate to get moving and to avoid the continuing strokes of the whip. Despite knowing it would not work, Sarah lifted her leg high and to the side, attempting to recreate the success she had finally achieved in impaling herself on the dildo.

 

As expected all she achieved was a movement of the rubbery shaft inside her. Sarah forced herself higher on her toes and pushed ahead, leaning her entire body forward and thrusting her hips against the dildo. She could feel its bulk shift within her pussy, pressing against the delicate walls of her sex as she exerted more pressure. She felt it bend and slip slightly. It was then that an intense pain erupted in her breasts, causing a violent tinkling of the bells as her body jumped backwards.

 

"Hurry up. If you do not achieve a satisfactory number of circuits this detention will be deemed invalid and you will repeat it tomorrow."

 

Sarah's eyes bulged at the thought of the entire session not counting. She was sure she had been making progress when the whip had struck, forcing her to involuntarily jolt backwards. The sweat-drenched schoolgirl pressed forward again, eager to have the dildo out of her. The tender pink tunnel had begun to feel the effects of the tormenting ointment, not only were her plump labia burning but her pussy blazed with an inner fire. Sarah thrust her body forward will all the force she could muster. She could feel the dildo push against the front wall of her vagina and tried with a last desperate effort to dislodge it. Her energy was beginning to flag and she could almost taste the bitterness of failure. She did the only thing she could think of.

 

Sarah drew in her breath and jumped as high as her already stretched calf muscles would allow. She felt the dildo scrape painfully against her pussy before finally popping free. She stumbled forward, her tightly bound arms trembling in a futile attempt to help her retain her balance. She choked herself on the rope collar but was thankful that Mrs Huffington Smythe had provided the deportment aid, as without it she would have found herself sprawled painfully and unceremoniously on the hard concrete floor.

 

The diminutive teen took tiny, prancing steps to right herself, coming to stand directly before the second dildo-pole. Sarah wasted no time in lifting her leg high and to the side and straddling the second pole, keen to move through the ordeal as quickly as she could. She knew she could not spare herself the pain and humiliation she was being forced to inflict upon her own body, but if she performed well she could spare herself the need to do it all again tomorrow.

 

Sarah struggled to insert the second dildo. She lowered her leg in defeat, tears streaming freely down her face, mingling with the rivulets of sweat that covered her entire body. She took a small, mincing step closer to the dildo and tried again. The whip crashed again and again into her lithesome body, first to against her unprotected belly and then across the back of her thighs.

 

Sarah did her best to ignore the stinging agony of the single-tailed whip and focused her entire being on pushing the dildo deep inside her. As with the first, success came with a spike of pain deep along the entire length of her pussy. A new application of the burning ointment coated her fleshy canal, though it went unnoticed by the tortured schoolgirl.

 

Sarah grit her teeth and tensed her muscles as she immediately stepped forward, thrust and finally baby-jumped off the end of the dildo, to the everpresent accompaniment of the tinkling of the bells clamped to her nipples. This time she had been able to stay on her feet and she quickly scurried to impale herself on the third pole.

 

Reproducing the technique learned on the first two poles, Sarah felt the third jolt painfully inside her in only a few moments. She was quickly off the third pole and onto the final obstacle before she was to repeat the entire process again, how many times she did not know. The instant she sidled up to the fourth dildo she knew it was not the same.

 

Sarah could feel the dildo against her plump pussylips and was aware that it was not the normal smooth shaft. Small stubby spikes dug into the soft flesh of her pussy. The other three dildos had hurt as they penetrated her, but this, she knew, would be infinitely worse. Due to their height she was unable to regulate the speed with which the dildos thrust inside her, causing their entire length to slam instantly into her inexperienced flesh. She was afraid of what damage the small, blunt spikes would do to her.

 

She knew she was to expect pain, after all she had not earned a detention for being good but she had to trust to her teachers to ensure she was not damaged in any way, as she was sure her owner, and the owner's of all the other sluts, would not want their appearance marred or their ability to serve impaired. Safe in this assumption Sarah lifted her leg and slid onto the final, spiked pole. The pain as it thrust deep inside her was excruciating. She screamed, unable to hold back under an agony that did not stop at her pussy, but radiated past her belly and deep into her chest. Her knees trembled in weakness and she slid further down the pole, serving only to increase the pain inside her as the dildo moved, scraping the spikes against her delicate pink folds.

 

"Correct," the headmistress answered to an unspoken question. "The final pole is to ensure that the student remains focused, avoiding the temptation of arousal provided by the previous shafts. You agree that it is a potent reminder to help you focus on your lesson?"

"Yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am," Sarah grunted as she forced herself off the pole, scraping the spiked shaft agonisingly along the inside of her pussy.

 

She screamed through clenched teeth as she stepped up onto the first station post. The pain throbbed through her pussy as she fought for breath, using her five seconds of rest to their full advantage. Her frantic panting was the only noise in the room. It took a second for Sarah to realise what was strange - the absence of the jingling of bells was strangely off-putting for the beleaguered teen.

 

On her count of five Sarah stepped gingerly down the three small steps and straddled the copper rail. She would now have to traverse the electrified pole for her second time. This time however, she was no longer fresh and full of energy. She streamed with sweat, her calves trembled from the constant stress of standing on her toes, her pussy ached and burned in equal measure, the clamps on her nipples dug cruelly into the soft pink buds and her arms and shoulders ached from the severe position into which they had been restrained. She would never complete a circuit as cleanly or as quickly as she had on her first lap. It was this thought that scared her almost as much as the possibility of not completing enough circuits and having tortured herself for nothing.

 

It was not for nothing, she corrected herself. She was here to learn a lesson. She had earned the detention because she had let her owner's pussy have too much of a hold on her thoughts and behaviour. Even if she failed to complete the detention to her superiors’ satisfaction she would still have learned some valuable lessons, not only about her owner's pussy but about dealing with pain as well.

 

Sarah had taken three small shuffling steps along the copper rail before she faltered. A small misstep caused her to lower slightly from the very tips of her toes. The thin inner lips of her pussy, that now peeked out between her plump outer lips after the attention of the dildos, came almost within touching distance of the bar. Even without contact, the proximity was enough. A small blue spark jumped from copper bar to small pink lips.

 

Sarah yelped and jumped back to her toes, standing as tall as she could. She had never felt anything like the electric shock that had just coursed through her pussy. Her belly was still tensing around the rope belt that was pulled painfully tight around her waist. She was gasping as she stood still, one quivering leg on either side of the metal rail. She knew she had to move, not only to get to the other end of the bar but also to avoid the ire of the headmistress, who she could not see but whom she was sure was watching her every movement, whip at the ready, to ensure she was performing to the standard expected of a slut. The thought of the anger of Mrs Huffington Smythe helped her to take her first tentative step, then another. She quickly regained the rhythm that had been shattered by her first shock.

 

"Talk of your cunt," demanded the headmistress, the voice right next to Sarah's ear.

 

Sarah was startled by the proximity of the imposing woman, surprised by the silence with which she moved. The toes on her left foot slipped and her body lowered the dangerous inch putting her pussy in contact with the bar. The sweating schoolgirl screamed as the electricity pulsed through her. She sprang back to her toes but overbalanced. Her left thigh grazed the rail and agony burst inside the soft flesh of her leg. She danced to her left, jolting her left leg away from the bar, only to bring her right thigh into contact with the electrified rail. Sarah became frantic as the third shock in as many seconds pulsed painfully through her body.

 

Just as the terrified girl felt she had composed herself, her tiny pink cuntlips ventured too close, allowing a spark to jump the small gap and start her dancing again. Sarah tried to step forward as quickly and gracefully as she could. She had been badly shaken by the excruciating pain of the electricity. Her entire body quivered as her toes finally came into contact with the first of the wooden steps around the base of station two. The dejected teen leaned against the wooden post and attempted to calm herself, knees trembling as she stood on the small platform, surveying the knotted rope strung out before her.

 

"Infraction for insubordination. One would think that during a detention even a silly little bitch would have enough presence of mind not to ignore a superior. What were you told about manners?"

"I was -"

"No. Your lack of discipline is much more deep-seated than first evaluated. When you are to answer a question you will use the correct, respectful nomenclature. 'This slut' is how you will now respond to all questions requiring an answer pertaining to your state of being. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am, this slut understands."

"Continue."

"This slut was informed that failure to display the correct manners during detention would result in an additional 30 minutes added to the duration of the detention Ma'am."

"Infraction for laziness," snapped Mrs Huffington Smythe in response.

 

Sarah realised that she had not moved from station two while she had been speaking to the headmistress. She swiftly stepped down onto the rope and shuffled forwards, scraping the coarse rope across her pussy. The tortured schoolgirl clenched her jaw against the pain and slowly pulled herself across the ten feet of rope, squealing each time a knot bumped against her clit.

 

"Another 30 minutes shall be added to the detention as per your wishes," the headmistress said casually.

"Thank you Ma'am," Sarah replied, knowing she was expected to show her gratitude for the chance to extend her training.

"Infraction for disobedience. Truly 97817402, you have a penchant for punishment. That or you are perhaps the most unfortunate simpleton Harkwood has had through its hallowed halls."

"This slut thanks you Ma'am."

"When you thank someone it is polite to be specific in your gratitude. After all, the mere fact that you are being given the opportunity to serve every day is something for which you should be eternally grateful. Try again."

"This slut thanks you Ma'am, for giving this slut the opportunity to extend this slut's training for an extra 30 minutes," Sarah sobbed.

 

The constant haranguing had beaten down the young girl's resolve. She was being forced to torture herself and she was struggling not only with the pain she was causing but the concepts she was being forced to learn so quickly. She not only had to keep her body on its toes but her mind as well. Her education was continuing and what she was being told was more important, much more important, than the pain she was experiencing. She needed to readjust her focus, and quickly. She had added an hour onto the detention and had earned herself three or four infractions in what she thought was less than 20 minutes. She had to try and deal with the pain and keep her mind clear and on the words of the headmistress.

 

"Return to the original question," Mrs Huffington Smythe directed, as the sobbing schoolgirl reached the end of the wire.

 

Sarah did not even pause at the third station, wanting desperately to continue moving and avoid any further infractions for laziness. She no longer trusted her own sense of time to keep her at rest for less than five seconds. As she stepped down from the platform she noted that a fresh layer of white ointment had been applied to the dildos. The burning in her pussy had been a constant pain, but one which had been submerged beneath the more intense agonies of the other obstacles. Its particular brand of burning agony had come on in waves, surging each time she had a moment of respite.

 

She had never truly been without pain from the moment she had begun. It was all she could do to prevent herself from being overwhelmed by its multitude of sources. And now she was not to be allowed even the small respite as the potency of the muscle cream wore off over time.

 

"This slut's owner's pussy hurts Ma'am," Sarah sobbed as she lifted her leg to begin the contortions that would allow her to penetrate her pussy with the first dildo. "This slut's owner's pussy exists to serve."

 

What had once been a simple statement now required a depth of thought that required a great deal of focus. Surely over time it would become as natural to her as the feeling of wanting her pussy filled as all sluts do, but now, in the infancy of her training, Sarah was finding it difficult to keep on top of what was required of her.

 

"Hmmm," was Mrs Huffington Smythe's only response.

 

Sarah was afraid of such a noncommittal noise from a superior. What had she done wrong now? She was sure she had spoken correctly. She felt the dildo thrust it's full length inside her as she successfully manoeuvred her body onto the pole. Success brought pain. Was this also a lesson? She had been told that pain was only one aspect of service. If she was in pain it was at the desire of her superiors and her superiors knew what was best for her. So when she felt pain she was feeling only what she, as a slut, should be feeling. It was not wrong, or something to be avoided. She knew this but it remained difficult for her not to wish she could serve in other ways. If a slut behaved well and was obedient pain was only necessary as it brought pleasure to her owner for her to experience.

 

The agony she was in now was the result of her poor behaviour, not her owner's desires. But her owner desired her to learn to be the best slut she could be and so she had made the pain necessary. Pain was not to be avoided but nor was it to be sought, her superiors would ensure that pain, as with all other aspects of her life, was experienced as it should be. It was a minor epiphany for the young schoolgirl and it came as she struggled to free herself of the spiked dildo that marked the end of the fourth station and the end of her second circuit.

 

Sarah did not pause at the first station but immediately stepped down onto the copper rail extending from the first wooden post. Thoughts of the excruciating pain of the electric shocks came flashing back into her mind. The sensation was still fresh and she was now to put herself once again in danger. It was, however, all up to her. If she performed properly, and kept a sufficiently pleasing posture then she would make it to the other side unharmed. Her pussy was now in her hands. Sarah almost giggled. She was amazed that even in her current predicament, naked, bound and forced to cruelly torture herself, she could find anything even remotely funny.

 

The sweat-drenched schoolgirl had made it half-way across the rail before Mrs Huffington Smythe made her presence known once again. Sarah never really forgot she was there, but being forced to keep her eyes forward at all times meant she rarely had any indication as to her location.

 

"Describe the position best suited for servicing a gentleman with your mouth," commanded the headmistress.

"Kneeling Ma'am," Sarah gasped, trying desperately to keep her tired legs stretched to their full extent.

"You were not asked to state the position, you were asked to describe it. Pay attention," bellowed the headmistress as the whip flashed across Sarah's belly. Sarah screamed as pain sliced through her. More devastating to the young girl was that she had failed again.

 

"This slut apologises for her stupidity Ma'am. This slut is grateful to her superior for correcting this slut's error. This slut is very sorry being so stupid and for disappointing a superior with a lack of discipline."

"The slut is capable of learning after all. Doubts were beginning to form. The apology was a poor one, though I do realise that you have not yet reached this aspect of the curriculum. A correct apology contains four key elements: humility, debasement, gratitude and exaltation. I have a feeling, that I do not consider to be inaccurate, that you will have a great and necessary need for this skill in your future. Do you understand now how to make a correct apology?"

"No Ma'am, sorry Ma'am, this slut does not understand."

 

Sarah was loath to admit it but she truly did not understand exactly what the headmistress had said. She understood the principles but if she was wrong in her interpretation the assumption of knowledge may very well have been interpreted as arrogance or worse. She did her best to think on the problem as she scraped her pussy across the knotted rope, sparing a moment to think on her abused pussy. By now it was surely rubbed red and raw. Every small inch forward was sheer agony for the fatigued schoolgirl.

 

"Humility. The slut expresses her submissiveness by apologising for her failure. Debasement. The slut stresses her low status, incorporating the reason for her failure. Gratitude. The slut expresses how grateful she is for the chance to be punished for her failure. Exaltation. The slut stresses the status of her superior. Now do you understand?"

 

"This slut understands Ma'am," Sarah replied, stepping off one of the small blocks, sending the five thin wires cutting into her soft pussylips. The young girl squealed as her tender pussy felt as if it was being sliced with a knife. Apologising was a very involved process. Like most everything for a slut, she would have to work at it.

 

"Answer the question correctly," purred the headmistress into Sarah's ear.

 

The young girl hesitated, casting her mind back to the question she had been asked. It was extremely difficult knowing that someone was in the room, knowing her every movement was being watched and analysed, and not being able to see her tormentor. The simple act of keeping her eyes forward at all times was much more difficult than she could ever have imagined. She longed for the day when it was second nature to her.

 

"The best position for a slut to service a gentleman with her mouth is kneeling, Ma'am. The slut kneels, her shins flat on the floor, her legs are spread widely and her arms are behind her, wrists resting in the small of the back," Sarah described, remembering back to her first lesson at Harkwood.

"Alternate position?"

"Squatting Ma'am. The slut lowers her body -"

"Silence," Mrs Huffington Smythe bellowed. "A slut speaks only when spoken to. A slut answers each and every questioned asked of her as succinctly as possible. No one has any interest in hearing a slut prattle. When I want conversation I will choose someone with above average intelligence. Apologise for your impertinence. Shall we see if that slut mind has the ability to absorb information that does not pertain to sexual gratification."

"This slut is extremely sorry for speaking out of turn Ma'am. This slut is only a silly untrained slut -"

"Do not make excuses. Begin again," hissed the headmistress as the whip slashed across her outthrust breasts.

 

Sarah continued around the circuit without pause as she attempted to please her headmistress, her eyes red and sore from crying. She licked her upper lip, tasting not only her sweat but the muted taste of the thin streams of mucus that streamed without impediment from her nose. She had almost made it back to the beginning of the circuit, the spiked dildo being the last obstacle before she would once again need to ride the copper rail.

 

"This slut is extremely sorry for speaking out of turn Ma'am. This slut is a just a slut that is learning how to behave and because she is only of low intelligence this slut makes mistakes. This slut is eternally grateful for any punishment that she may receive to help improve her behaviour and be a better slut. This slut wishes -"

"What you wish is irrelevant, being again."

"This slut is very sorry for speaking out of turn Ma'am," Sarah gasped, as she struggled for breath. "This slut is stupid and makes mistakes that need correction. This slut is extremely grateful for the efforts of her superiors and for the punishment she will receive. This slut deserves to be punished for her mistakes sso she can learn to be a better slut -"

"You are rambling. Begin again."

 

Sarah slumped in despair, forgetting where she was. Her exposed pussy brushed the copper pole and electricity surged through her. Sarah screamed and sprang to her toes. The agony as the electricity shocked her was something the young girl could not come to terms with. It was not that it was more painful than anything else she had experienced it was simply the nature of it. She found herself quivering in fear as she traversed the pole, deathly afraid of another shock. All she wanted to do right now was finish her apology. She would gladly take ten strokes of the cane if the headmistress would accept an apology. The constant failure without guidance was crushing the exhausted schoolgirl's spirit.

 

"This slut is very sorry for speaking out of turn Ma'am. This slut is stupid and is so very grateful to her superiors for the punishment she is to receive for her failures. This slut deserves to be punished so that she can learn to be a better slut and this slut realises that her wise and beautiful superiors will provide the punishment this slut needs."

 

Sarah dragged her pussy along the knotted rope, squealing loudly each time her raw clit bumped across a knot. She was hoping against hope that her last effort was satisfactory.

 

"You were not asked to write a soliloquy. No one wants to stand around for five minutes while a mentally challenged bitch prattles on. Succinct, slut. Do you know the meaning of the word? It means you need to condense your babble. Begin again."

 

If Sarah's shoulders had not been pulled so painfully taut behind her, they would have slumped in despair, despite the unattractive posture it would create. She could not get a simple apology right. Sarah Porter, the girl who had been the darling of the English faculty at her old school, could not even string four sentences together correctly. She had excelled at the meaninglessness of the life of an ordinary girl but she was failing at being a slut. The only thing that was important to her now.

 

"This slut is so very sorry for speaking out of turn Ma'am. This slut is merely a stupid cunt whose mistakes deserve to be punished by her superiors so she can learn to be a better slut so she can show her gratitude to her magnanimous superiors through obedience and service."

 

Sarah inwardly cringed as she finished what seemed like her fiftieth attempt at an apology. She was sure it was too long or too rambling or not specific enough. She would ask for punishment for each failure if she could only get it right.

 

"Pathetic but passable. Best to learn from this experience as such leniency shall not be shown again. Answer the question," Mrs Huffington Smythe finished abruptly.

 

"This slut's cunt exists to serve Ma'am. Right now it is causing a lot of pain each time it touches anything Ma'am. It feels as if it has been rubbed raw by the rope, cut by the wire and bruised by the dildos Ma'am."

 

Sarah took a deep breath as she finished speaking and pulled herself off a dildopole at the same time. She was steeling herself to do something she had promised, even if it was only to herself. She simply had to hope that her actions would not cause any displeasure.

 

"This slut requests permission to speak, Ma'am," Sarah asked hesitantly, sniffling in a vain attempt to stop the flow of tears and mucus, knowing as she did, how her crying affected her speech and she did not want to annoy the headmistress by not being clear and concise.

 

"Granted," replied Mrs Huffington Smythe casually.

"Ma'am, this slut requests to be punished for her failure to apologise."

"Do I understand correctly that you have not as yet perused your student manual?" was the headmistress' only answer.

"That is correct Ma'am," Sarah replied, her voice faltering as she stepped onto station one and surveyed the benign looking copper pole that stretched to the post at station two. She felt a fear that threatened to halt her progress.  

"When a slut requests permission to speak there are consequences. If the content of the slut's speech is deemed unacceptable, punishment is earned. In what ways would a slut's speech be deemed unacceptable?"

 

Sarah wracked her brain, trying to devote as much of her brainpower as she could while remaining completely focused on the metal pole that lay an inch below her bare pussy. The potential pain hidden within the smooth shaft made her breath catch in her throat.

 

"Selfishness Ma'am."

"Continue."

"Being unclear Ma'am."

"Continue."

"Not being succint Ma'am."

"Continue," directed the headmistress, the smile obvious in her voice.

 

Sarah wracked her frazzled brain but could not think of anything else to say. Unfortunately she had to rely on the staple of the ignorant slut.

 

"This slut is a slut Ma'am."

"When performing a slut directive you are to use the correct terminolgy," insisted the headmistress, flicking the whip forward to wrap around Sarah's naked torso.

"I am a slut Ma'am," Sarah replied clearly and concisely, her relief at being off the copper rail giving strength to her voice.

"Three is very poor even for a lazy slut that has not read the required material. The student manual is not supplied to fill up shelf space. I expect improvement. For now I have heard enough from you. You are to finish the detention in silence. Another infraction is to be added for laziness."

 

Sarah sighed inwardly, disappointed that she seemed unable to do anything correctly. Since entering room 17, she had been a constant disappointment and a source of displeasure for Mrs Huffington Smythe. And all this had occurred while she was making her torturous way around the circuit that had been erected for her detention. Almost every step she took brought her pain. Pain that was heavily centred in her pussy. Her arms and shoulders ached from their strict bondage, her nipples screamed with every small movement, their particular pain heralded by the constant tinkling of the bells that hung from the clamps that cruelly pinched her delicate pink nubs. Her calves and thighs burned from the constant stress from constantly standing on her toes. But it was all as nothing compared to the agony between her legs.

 

Now that she was not required to focus on answering the questions proposed by the headmistress she felt as if the pain had grown worse. She had made it past the knotted rope and the tight wires and past the row of tall dildopoles to face her nemesis. In the short time of her second detention she had learned something crucial about herself. Electricity and the pain it could bring, frightened her more than anything, even more than failing to please her superiors.

 

She slowed down as she straddled the dangerous copper bar, taking tiny mincing steps to ensure the maximum distance between her pussy and the source of the sharp pain. She knew it took her much longer to move between stations one and two but she hoped that she could make up that time by not pausing when she was allowed.

 

Time blurred for the exhausted teen. She measured her existence in small steps: moving from one dildo to the next, from one knot to the next. But time seemed to slow when she reached the smooth metal pole. She felt like it took her an hour to traverse the ten feet of its length. Until her flagging strength caused her posture to become sloppy. When the electricity sparked into the already painful pink lips of her pussy, time exploded. It felt as if she had awakened from a dream. All her myriad of hurts came full focus, only to be overshadowed by the overwhelming agony from the insidious invisible force.

 

"Halt," Mrs Huffington Smythe bellowed.

 

Sarah stopped where she was, shocked out of her near trancelike state by the teacher's stentorian voice. She stood on her toes, impaled by the spiked dildo, it's blunt plastic stubs pushing cruelly into the soft walls of her vagina. The young schoolgirl stood as still as she could, willing her legs to support her for just a little while longer. She was a mess. Strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and were plastered to the side of her face. Her entire body was coated in sweat, the tight rope belt that constricted her belly had darkened in colour as it soaked the salty liquid that ran down her naked body. Her eyes were red and sore from the near constant crying and the poor schoolgirl had long ago given up trying to keep her mouth clear. The lower half of her face, from nose to chin, was covered in sticky trails of mucus. Each time she opened her mouth, thick strands connected her lips.

 

Sarah stood as close to attention as she could manage, her eyes faced obediently ahead, focused on the far wall. She could hear Mrs Huffington Smythe move around behind her. She knew how important it was to keep her eyes forward. She knew that a slut had no need to look idly around a room, that she would see all that she was expected to see as directed by her superiors. But it was still difficult for her to resist the constant temptation to flick her eyes sideways to follow the sounds she heard and the flickering blurry movement in her peripheral vision.

 

"Step off. Dinner is served."

 

Sarah bent forward, stepping as high as she could on the very tips of her toes and bent the flexible dildo forward, scraping the spikes along the moist pink folds of her pussy. After so many circuits, she had become almost an expert at releasing herself from these painful intruders. At just the right moment, when the dildo was bent and pressed painfully against the front wall of her sex, she jumped, generating just enough extra height for its five inch length to pop out of her abused sex.

 

She grunted in pain, though she was relieved to finally be free of the dildo. Her now empty pussy throbbed as she stood before the square wooden post of the first station. She breathed deeply as the pain radiated from her abused cunt. It was the first time in what felt like hours that her pussy was not being subjected to some new form of pain. Instead she was now able to feel the residual effects of the many circuits she had been forced to perform.

 

The trembling schoolgirl waited patiently to be released, using the time to go over a mental checklist of her body. She had only progressed as far as the numbness in her hands before she felt the rope collar pulled momentarily tighter and then released. The headmistress swiftly unwound the rope from around her neck and stepped away. Sarah immediately began to relax.

 

"On your toes," bellowed the headmistress.

 

Sarah snapped back onto her toes. She had barely relaxed her muscles, her heels had not even made contact with the hard concrete floor but she had not been told to step down off her toes. How stupid could she be. She was tired but that was not an excuse.

 

"Truly, the word 'infraction' must be your favourite word. You have earned another for disobedience. Step across and begin the meal. In ten minutes we resume the second half of your detention."

 

Sarah inwardly groaned, her spirit deflating at the realisation that her detention was only half over. She had another hour in this dreaded room. The hour she had earned herself through her terrible lack of manners. Cursing her absence of control, she stepped toward the large cylinder filled with yellow liquid that hung from the hook by the door. The base was tipped, at right angles, with the now familiar long nipple.

 

The bottle was slung well below the hook and Sarah knelt awkwardly in front of it. She could not use her hands for balance, tied as they were behind her back, so she first lowered herself into a squat, keeping her back straight and bringing her ass to rest on her heels. She then leaned forward until her knees rested against the rough concrete floor. Now that her body was no longer under so much stress she had begun to cool down. As she took the four inch nipple into her mouth to suckle the first of the much needed liquid the first cramp started in her legs.

 

Sarah screamed into the nipple, almost gagging on the first mouthful of the bitter liquid. Her feet and calves were quickly in full cramp. She could not focus on anything but the pain. She squirmed in place trying desperately to alleviate the agony in her muscles. She had the presence of mind to keep the nipple in her mouth despite not sucking anymore of her meal.

 

"Cramps," stated Mrs Huffington Smythe from directly behind her. "To be expected. Continue with your meal. Shuffle backwards and raise yourself onto your knees. That means shuffle your knees backward, then raise yourself."

 

Sarah shuffled her knees backwards, the agony in her calves overshadowing the dull throbbing pain that continued from her abused pussy. Sarah had managed to keep the nipple in her mouth through the entire procedure. She had ended with her body leaning forward from the waist to keep her mouth at the lower height now her body had been raised.

 

Sarah closed her eyes in fear as the strong scent of the muscle cream hit her nostrils. She almost screamed with dreaded anticipation at the thought of the cream being applied afresh. It was only when she felt the headmistress latex clad hands gently massage the cream into the tight, screaming muscles of her calves that she started breathing again. She had not realised she had been holding her breath. As her calves were simultaneously massaged Sarah returned to suckling the teat in her mouth.

 

Under the careful ministrations of the headmistress the cramping began to ease and before long had disappeared entirely, the excruciating agony merely a memory. Sarah was left with the throbbing ache in her pussy, arms and nipples now that the more intense pain had subsided. She now focused all her attention on emptying the bottle that contained her dinner. Her mouth was flooded with the bitter-tasting liquid and it was all Sarah could do not to cringe as she drank mouthful after mouthful. Despite the potent taste she felt strangely contented as the long nipple sat comfortably in her mouth.

 

As Sarah rhythmically drew sustenance from the nipple she felt Mrs Huffington Smythe begin to untie the ropes around her elbows and hands. As they were loosened and then removed the blood rushed back into the almost numb limbs. Sarah groaned around the nipple as a new pain made itself known. The headmistress worked swiftly and Sarah's arms were soon free. The most intense pins and needles she had ever felt rushed through her arms as they hung almost limply behind her back. She retained enough control to keep them in place, her hands resting lightly in the small of her back. The young girl clenched them gently, working slowly to bring the feeling back.

 

"Kneel," commanded Mrs Huffington Smythe.

 

Sarah immediately resumed the kneeling position, a pleasant warmth rushing through all her extremities. Now if the clamps could be removed from her nipples she could finish her meal in relative peace. Of course her pussy still felt as if it had been burned by a fire but there was nothing she could do about that right now. She focused instead on keeping a steady rhythm and emptying the clear plastic bottle that contained her dinner. She had already emptied the bottle by half.

 

The young schoolgirl quickly screened out her surroundings and lost herself in the gentle rhythmic sucking she had established. Sarah jumped, startled, as Mrs Huffington Smythe's smooth latex covered fingers touched her exposed pussy. The gentle movement as the slick fingers traced along her plump lips caused Sarah a little pain, though much less than she would have thought. She did her best to ignore the attention and instead focus on her task at hand.

 

She had thought her pussy was badly damaged and that even the most gentle of touches would cause her considerable pain. It was an important lesson in not letting her imagination rule her expectations. It was not long before the headmistress's experienced and insistent fingers began to arouse the young girl. Sarah's face flushed as she continued to suck the nipple that filled her mouth and tried her best to ignore the sensations that had begun to grow between her legs. How could she go so quickly from pain to pleasure? The pain was still there, she realised, though it was dampened with each passing moment.

 

There it is, the naked teen admitted to herself. Her pussy had begun to moisten as the smooth fingers caressed her tender lips, an occasional fingertip sliding cheekily inside her. Less than a minute later and Sarah knew her pussy was producing cream. Her breathing became heavier as the fingers delved a little deeper each time they entered her moist tunnel. She concentrated even harder on the thick rubber teat in her mouth, concentrated on gripping the shaft with her lips and coaxing the foul-tasting yellow liquid from the bottle.

 

Despite her concentration, or maybe because of it, she noticed that as she greedily suckled the nipple in her mouth, she was pressing down with her hips, pushing her pussy onto the invading fingers to the same rhythm. With each mouthful she drew from the bottle she pressed her pussy backwards, questing for the fingers that were fanning the flames of her ardour. 

 

The last few drops trickled into her mouth and Sarah stopped sucking, letting the nipple simply rest in her mouth. She was loath to remove it as it felt so good inside her. Once finished she made a conscious effort to keep her hips still. It was only in the sudden silence that she realised her complicit thrusting had caused her breasts to bounce gently, setting the bells hanging from her nipples to fill the room with their soft musical tinkling.

 

She hoped the headmistress would realise that she was finished and that she was eager to resume her detention. In a way it was true: she wanted to leave this room and the only way she could do that was to finish the last half of her detention. The main reason was that despite her fatigue, despite the pain that flowed throughout her body, she was nearing orgasm. She wasn't sure she had any control over her exhausted body and she knew she did not deserve to come, nor had she been given permission. If the headmistress kept going Sarah would be forced to ask for permission and that was something she did not want to do.

 

The humiliation of knowing she was unable to control herself caused fresh tears to well in her eyes. Her vision blurred and she thought desperately of a way to control the pressure building in her pussy. 'My owner's cunt exists to serve', she said quietly to herself. If she focused on her mantra, maybe that would help. 'My owner's cunt exists to serve.'

 

Sarah repeated the phrase over and over, establishing an internal rhythm in counterpoint to the fingers that pumped in and out of her wet pussy. She was not sure how long it was before Mrs Huffington Smythe withdrew her fingers, the slick black digits sliding from her with a soft slurping sound that caused the young girl’s belly to tighten. Sarah's shallow, rapid breathing continued long after her pussy was left alone. The naked teen worked furiously to get her emotions under control, taking solace from the nipple filling her mouth. Her lips wrapped comfortably around its pliant surface, her tongue slowly caressing underneath the smooth shaft. It was something that Sarah had accepted almost immediately. It was, perhaps, the first thing that helped her accept her role as a slut. It felt natural to have her holes filled, especially her mouth. She could happily sit here for hours. But she had a detention to complete.