Private School

Eventually Heather ended up in what looked like a photography studio. There was lighting equipment and tripods and a number of expensive looking cameras. Heather had questions she wanted to ask, however she was learning to keep her mouth shut. Apparently students in this school didn't speak unless spoken to. And even then they had to be careful how they answered.

Heather now thought of the two women in the black uniforms as prison guards. They led her around the school and made certain she didn't go anywhere without their permission. If she refused to obey an order, they used force to make her comply.

At the moment she was merely being ordered to stand with her feet apart and to keep her hands at her sides.

It was an easy order to follow, but she felt humiliated. In her entire adult life only three people had ever seen her naked. Two of them were boyfriends and one of them was her doctor. And none of those people had ever seen her without pubic hair. Now her naked pubic lips were on display for anyone who walked into the room. And she wasn't even being allowed to close her legs!

There was no clock on the wall and Heather's watch had been confiscated by the school. As a result, she had no idea how long she was forced to wait there. Her two guards didn't speak much, but mostly kept a close eye on her. It was as if they were hoping she would do something they could punish her for and afraid that if they looked away they'd miss it.

After what seemed like hours, a young woman came in and greeted the guards. They made small talk and ignored Heather completely. It was another humbling experience for Heather. She had become accustomed to being the center of attention wherever she went. To be ignored while low level employees were acknowledged was another indignity for her to suffer. She clenched her fists and bit her tongue while the three women spoke.

"Hey Ally! When'd you get your hair cut?"

"Saturday. It was getting impossible to manage. Every morning I'd wake up and it'd be in my face. It took forever to comb it and tame it. It was like it had a mind of it's own! And of course it had to be pinned back if I wanted to go swimming or work out at the gym."

"Or have sex," one of the guards replied.

"That too," the girl named Ally responded.

"I think it looked sexier, long," the other guard interjected.

This conversation about Ally's new haircut went on for what seemed like forever to Heather. Actually it was only a few minutes, but Heather wasn't used to being ignored or being made to wait. Also she was sick of holding this position. Heather was used to moving around and her muscles were getting stiff from not moving.

Without moving her head (she'd been told to hold her chin up and look straight forward), tried to get a good look at Ally. She was about Heather's age and appeared to be slightly taller. Her blonde hair was cut short, but styled in a rather attractive manner. She wore no makeup as far as Heather could tell, but she had a nice face and could get away without using any.

She wore a tight, white t-shirt and a tight pair of blue jeans. Both of these looked old and showed signs of wear. Heather didn't dare lower her chin enough to see what sort of shoes she was wearing.

Before today Heather would have ignored a girl dressed in such worn and inexpensive clothing. Now Heather was the one being ignored and craving the girl's attention.

Eventually the girl in the blue jeans took notice of Heather, however she didn't do Heather the courtesy of speaking directly to her.

"So, this is the new student?" she asked one of the guards.

"That's her," one of the guards replied. "Doctor Estrich has already seen her. We've already started entering her into the system, but we need pictures taken."

Ally took a few steps closer to Heather and in a calm, polite tone of voice said, "Stand still Heather. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just need to get a good look at you." Ally then proceeded to examine Heather's face, long blonde hair and naked body in detail. Heather thought it was very impersonal, rather like examining a racehorse or a purebred dog before purchasing it. Ally checked for muscle tone, squeezing and pinching various parts of her anatomy. She looked for scars and tattoos and body piercings. She checked the soles of Heather's feet for corns or any other possible imperfections. She also had Heather open her mouth so that she could check her teeth.

"What do you think?" one of the guards asked, when Ally finally finished with her examination.

"I'm jealous," Ally said. "I can't find a single flaw on her. Most girls have SOMETHING I have to try and cover up!"

Heather felt a moment of pride at this. Then she remembered that her naked body was being judged by a working class woman. She wasn't even a person in this girl's eyes. She was just a naked body to be groped and pinched and given a rating.

Ally loaded film into a camera and set it up on a tripod. She also took a light reading and concentrated some bright lights in Heather's general direction. The lights very nearly blinded Heather, however she was told not to look away.

"Gorgeous," Ally said. "But I can make it even better,"

There was the sound of footsteps and then Ally's hand was wiping Heather's face with a damp cloth.

"What's that all about?" Heather heard a guard ask.

"Her mascara ran," Ally said. "A lot of the new girls cry. The first day is always a shock. This one must have been a real crybaby. Her mascara is a mess."

Heather wanted to snap at the girl who was cleaning her face. Who wouldn't cry under the circumstances? How well would this Ally person bear up if she we stripped naked and incarcerated in this school? Heather suddenly had a vision of Ally naked and in handcuffs, tears streaming down her face. If Heather ever got out of here, maybe she could do something to turn that vision into a reality.

Heather was snapped out of her vision, when one of the guards spoke. "I kinda liked her better with the running mascara. The fact that she was crying shows how helpless and humiliated she feels. Some people would think that would improve the photos. I think it makes her look sexier."

"Well, I'm the photographer," Ally replied as she finished wiping down Heather's face. "That means I'm the one who decides what makes a good photo. And I say we clean her up."

There was the sound of footsteps as Ally walked away and then her voice came from beyond the lights. "Still not right," she said. There's one more adjustment I need to make."

Ally didn't tell Heather what to expect and for a few seconds Heather wondered what Ally was intending. She'd heard Ally's footsteps as she walked closer and then stopped. There was a moment or two of silence and then suddenly Heather felt a hand on her thigh.

"What?" Heather blurted out, before she remembered she wasn't supposed to speak.

"Did anybody tell you, you could talk?" one of the guards called out in an angry tone of voice.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Heather called out and suddenly she felt Heather's fingers stroking her pubic lips. Gently at first and then her fingers became rough and forceful.

"Sorry's not good enough!" The guard's voice bellowed out. "You don't speak without permission! You'll be punished for that! Along with everything else!"

"She's already got a punishment list going?" Ally asked from somewhere between Heather's legs. Heather wanted to look down. Actually she wanted to step back and cover her crotch. But breaking position would just get her into more trouble.

"This one's a real trouble maker," she heard the guard's voice reply. "She refused to strip and she yelled at her mother. If Sandy and I weren't there she would have caused all kinds of trouble."

Heather wanted to say something angry and defiant in response to that. She thought she had behaved rather well considering what her mother had done to her. She began to consider possibilities for revenge against her mother and the employees of this school, when Ally slipped two fingers into Heather's cunt.

Heather gasped and against her will, found herself becoming aroused. She had never been sexually attracted to a woman before and never considered having sex with one, but the woman between her legs was making her body betray her.

Heather gasped and her thighs trembled as Ally used her fingers to stimulate the most sensitive part of her anatomy. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to an orgasm when she heard a guard bark out, "Stand up straight! Chin up!"

Heather hadn't even realized that she'd been slouching. With great difficulty she corrected her posture, and then Ally removed her fingers. "Ally?" she called out in an unsteady and trembling voice.

"HEATHER!" an angry voice called out. "Did anybody here give you permission to speak?"

"N-n-no," she replied in a very weak and timid voice she barely recognized as her own.

"That's another punishment then," the guard's voice informed her. "The only reason you're not being punished now is we're on schedule. There's a lot to be done to get new students situated and we'll get it all done today. Tomorrow your punishments start."

Heather closed her eyes tightly and bit her tongue. This was all so unfair. She missed her designer clothes and her Mercedes and her servants and her credit cards. She missed the freedom that was hers only yesterday. Today she was a naked prisoner and tomorrow she'd be suffering some series of punishments.

Heather's clit was swollen and hard and ached with need. Ally had teased her to the point of orgasm and then stopped just short of climax. She made a tiny whimpering sound and then Ally's voice called out. "That's much better," she said. "Shaving a girl's pubes always helps, but they stand out more once they're swollen and enlarged."

Heather whimpered some more. What she had considered an extremely intimate and invasive violation of her body, was nothing more than a technique for getting a better picture in Ally's eyes.

Ally then began to snap shot after shot of Heather. Of course it wasn't humiliating enough simply to stand there in the nude with her newly shaven public lips swollen and parted. Ally also directed Heather into a series of poses that made her look wanton and shameless.

"Hands behind your head, Heather," the photographer would call out. "Arch your back, stick your breasts out! On your knees! Legs wider apart! Now turn your ass to the camera! Bend over and use your hands to pull your ass cheeks apart! Not like that! I need a good view of both your anus and your pubic lips! Better! But spread your legs wider and don't bend your knees! Now crawl towards me! Slowly! And keep your knees far apart! Now crawl away from me! Knees apart! Stop! Hold that pose! Now stand again! Legs far apart! Knees straight! Arch your spine! Chin up! Elbows back! Dammit Heather, I said elbows back! Stick your tits out!"

The photography session lasted for over an hour and Heather was covered in a sheen of fine sweat after it was over. She was emotionally exhausted and physically tired. She wanted to know who would see those photos, but she didn't dare ask. She wanted to rest, but she was ordered to stand while the other three women spoke amongst themselves.

Heather blushed and whimpered at the thought of anybody ever seeing those photos of her. They were utterly degrading and pornographic. Were they blackmail? Heather would do almost anything to keep people from seeing those photos. Even if people knew they were taken under duress, Heather would be too embarrassed to show her face in public.

When Heather started crying again, the other women didn't even notice. Her pain and humiliation meant nothing to them. When the guards were done talking to the photographer, the guards simply ordered her hands behind her back and handcuffed her again.

She was led down more halls and past more school employees. Twice she saw other girls who were nude and being escorted by women in black uniforms. To her horror, she saw that these girls had marks on their thighs and buttocks. They weren't quite welts, but they looked painful. Without meaning to, she slowed down to get a better look.

"MOVE!" one of the guards snapped at her and pulled her roughly forward. "You're not here to sightsee!"

Heather picked up her pace and kept up with her two escorts. Her bare feet padded on the hardwood floors, but the sound of boot heels drowned out any sound they might have made.

Much of the day was a blur and couldn't remember every person that put hands on her naked body or humiliated her in some way. She lost track of the number of times she earned herself new punishments or saw another student with evidence of painful punishment on their naked and otherwise smooth skin.

When the guards went to eat their lunch, Heather was tied to a chair and gagged. Of course Heather squirmed in her bonds while the guards were gone, but all she accomplished was to rub her wrists and ankles raw against the ropes.

After about and hour, Heather was thinking that the guards forgot about her and she might be tied to this chair until she starved to death. Of course such paranoid fantasies were overblown, but Heather had never faced any real adversity in her life so she her lack of experience caused to overreact.

When someone finally entered the room, it wasn't either of the guards. Instead it was a young woman in a business suit with short red hair and an intelligent looking face. When the woman spoke, she had a cultured, British accent.

"Heather," the woman began, "my name is Dana. I'm going to take that gag out of your mouth. I'm giving you permission to speak, but you must be polite and respectful. Do you understand?"

Heather nodded her head in agreement.

"Do you promise to be polite?"

Heather nodded her head even more vigorously this time.

When the gag was removed, there was the welcome feeling that her jaw was no longer being forced open. Her jaw still ached, but that feeling would fade with time. In this school she was grateful for tiny mercies. "Thank you," Heather said once she was certain her mouth could form words.

Dana dragged a chair across the hardwood floor at placed it near Heather. Then she sat down and gave Heather an almost friendly look. "In this school," Dana began, "every student has an advocate. That is to say, a school employee who looks out for the student's welfare. In your case, that advocate would be me."

"Y-you look out for my welfare?" Heather asked, clutching at a tiny straw of hope. "You're here to help me?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Dana replied. "In the interest of saving time, I feel obligated to point out that I cannot have you released early from this school, nor can I give you any clothes to cover up your nudity."

"What?" Heather blurted out. She was about to let out with a string of profanity and insults, but caught herself just barely in time.

"What sort of good are you then?" Heather finally inquired.

"Since you came here," Dana began, "you've earned twelve punishments. This is partially because nobody has told you what rules you are expected to follow. This is also because you're not accustomed to following rules. I can assist you with both situations."

Heather was crestfallen. She had been hoping for more. "How long can they keep me here?" Heather asked.

"You're here for at least one semester," Dana replied. "When that semester is close to ending, there will be a meeting between your mother and some of the school staff to discuss your progress. If you have a good progress report, your mother may decide to sign your release papers."

"I'll be good!" Heather protested passionately. "I swear! My mother will have to sign!"

Dana gave Heather a patient and compassionate look and eventually answered, "I know you want out as soon as possible, Heather. However it's rarely that easy. I've seen your file, and you have a definite problem with authority. Students with your attitude are rarely released as early as all that. You may have to stay for three or four semesters."

Heather immediately started to cry at the mere though of staying in this school for so long. Dana sat there patiently and waited for Heather to finish. Afterwards Dana produced a tissue and wiped the tears off Heather's face.

"We'll work together to try and speed things up," Dana said in a soothing tone of voice. "That's what I'm here for. Before 2011, there was no such thing as a student advocate. Back in those days three semesters was the minimum for any student to be enrolled here. Since advocates were introduced into the system, less than half of the students stay that long."

"So, what happens now?" Heather asked.

"Excellent question," Dana replied. "Before you can start classes, you'll have to get your preliminary punishments out of the way. This is largely to put the fear of God into you, so that you'll be certain to listen to your teachers and not break any rules."

"Will they be awful?" Heather asked, remembering the marks she saw on other punished students.

Dana didn't answer right away. She gave Heather a long sad look and then after a long pause she replied, "You won't enjoy it."

Heather's head drooped. "Why is this happening to me?" she asked in a weak and pathetic tone of voice.

"Do you really want an answer to that?" Dana asked. "I can get the file from Miss Smithers and read off a long list of reasons that you're here. Your mother went into great detail about the problems that you caused at home. As I recall there were multiple complaints regarding rude behavior, abusive language, refusal to respect your mother's authority, sadistic and childish jokes played on the servants, acts of petty vandalism, temper tantrums and I think there was something in there about physically assaulting a bartender."

"I just slapped her," Heather replied, sounding foolish. "She refused to serve me."

"Be that as it may," Dana replied calmly, "in the eyes of the law it is called assault. If you were from an ordinary family you'd likely be in jail right now. And I believe you were under the legal age for drinking alcohol at the time."

Heather reluctantly nodded her head in agreement.

"So then, the bartender was within her rights to refuse to serve you. This has been a chronic problem with you, Heather. You refuse to obey the rules of society or respect the rights of others."

"What about my rights?" Heather snapped loudly. "Stripped naked, tied up and fondled by perverts? What do the rules of society say about that?"

"Don't shout," Dana said calmly. "You promised you'd be polite if I took the gag out, remember?"

The look on Heather's face showed raw fear. A few minutes without threats or guards dragging her around and she reverted back to her old pushy self. She was certain she'd be punished for her outburst.

"Should I put this back?" Dana asked as she picky the ball gag up and showed it to Heather.

"No. Please," Heather begged.

"Then remember what we talked about," Dana said.

After a significant pause, Dana went on, "This school is a solution of last resort. Back in 1999 there was a meeting of seven of the more wealthy and influential families in America. It was discovered that all of them had the same problem: Their children had no respect for their parent's authority and no gratitude for the wealth that their parents bestowed upon them. Rather than complain, they decided to do something about it. They established a school where disobedient and disruptive children would be forced to undergo a traumatic experience that would change them for the better."

"But ...... what about the law?" Heather asked. "This can't possibly be illegal. If me slapping a bartender was assault, what do you call this that they're doing to me?"

"Ah," said Dana with an obvious smile on her face, "but you didn't go to jail for slapping that bartender, did you?"