Nervous, little slut? Of course you are. It's your first day at Mistress K's Slutschool and you have so much to learn to even hope to catch up with the bigger, stronger, more experienced boysluts. Well, luckily for you, it's my job to teach little sluts like you how to behave. How to show proper subservience to your betters.
Take a seat on that stool there in front of my desk. You can call me Mistress K, or Ma'am and, if I deem to call you anything, it shall be boy or slut. You are fortunate that you are so young and pretty as I have decided to see to your induction personally before you meet your new classmates. Well, I say fortunate, but your deliciously innocent looks may well attract the wrong sort of attention from some of the bigger boys. Ah well, boys will be boys and I daresay that bending for a rough bit of buggering behind the bikes sheds will make a man of you.
You can start by removing your jeans and white shirt and donning your school uniform of tight, white lycra boyshorts. That's right, don't be shy, you want to look like all the big boys, don't you? There now. No hiding place for the filthy lustful thoughts of dirty little boys. Every little twitch will be obvious to me and to everyone else. And heaven forbid I see a damp spot. You really don't want them to point and laugh do you? You know how cruel boys can be.
Stand up, shoulders back, hands clasped at the small of your back. That's how I expect you to present yourself whenever I, or any member of my faculty, enters the room. Now, let me look at you...
Hmmm, you are a well grown boy, aren't you? Firm in all the right places and packing quite a bit inside your tight white briefs. Let me trace my fingertips along your quivering biceps, up and over your shoulders, to trail tantalisingly down your spine to reach your firm buttocks, encased in such tight, white wrappings. Hmm, I wonder how long it will before you have to bend and offer them up for a taste of my tawse or cane?
Don't fret boy, I'm sure a bright young slut like you will be able to find ways to stay out of trouble. Please me and you can earn extra credit. And you do want to please your Head Mistress, don't you?
Do you like what you see? My high, black heels, sheer seamed stockings, slim grey pencil skirt, white silk blouse, grey fitted cardigan and pearls. And I see you take in my dark red nails, cat-eye spectacles and long dark hair swept up on a severe chignon.
But what's this? Do I see tenting in your snug nether garments? Disgraceful! Is this the way you show proper respect to a powerful, mature lady who is taking time out of her busy schedule to help you settle in to your new school? Well, boy, for that shameful lack of self control you will need to be soundly punished. But before I take the time to teach you your first firm lesson in respect, I expect you to take care of that pillar of lustful thoughts.
Pull your underwear to your knees and take yourself in hand. Oh my, look how you fill your palm - you really have been indulging in dirty thoughts. Now, stroke yourself in front of me. Purge yourself of your shame. Faster now, boy. The road to purity in mind and body is only won by hard labour.
Don't you dare spill your filth on my expensive Persian rug. Catch it in your hand, slut. Every drop. That's it, milk out all of your filthy essence. Now what? You must clean your hand, slut. With your tongue, of course. Do you think my office wastepaper basket is an appropriate place for your sticky discarded tissues?
Well, that's taken care of that. Now, for the second order of business, your punishment. No, you don't have permission to pull up your underpants, keep them at your knees.
