Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
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The following is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to represent real people or events. It is completely written and owned by me, OfStarsAndDreams.
>>>> My erotic stories are generally written on behalf of others and do not necessarily reflect my own interests, fetishes, or personal history. <<<<
M/f F/f. Schoolgirls, interview, grooming, training, soft slavery/purchase of women, non-consent, rules/ritual, underwear/underwear removal, body examination, forced nudity/forced exhibitionism, corporal punishment, sadism (M/F on f), public humiliation, crying, restrictions, clothing/behavior control, removal of privacy, exposure to the elements, public viewing, being masturbated to (M toward f), false accusation/punishment, public punishment, exposure to peers, broadcasting sex acts, stripping, sex lessons, free use, sex toys, anal, oral, anal (M/F/f on f), forced toy use on self, group sex, begging, forced orgasms, sex as punishment, anal creampie, preservation of purity, gang rape, soft mention vaginal sex/loss of virginity (M/F on f), abandonment, video recording of sex acts, sale/exchange of recordings
Let's begin!
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[The following is transcribed from an audio recording]
Ok, I've started the recording. This is officer John Bryant of the Fairview City Police Department. I am here as part of an investigation into the reports of abuse at Saint Ursula's Finishing School for Fine Young Girls, an institution within the city's jurisdiction. I am here with one of the students who agreed to speak with us. Can you say your name for the record please?
Oh, hello, yes. My name is [redacted]. I am 18 years old.
And you attended Saint Ursula's, Ms. [redacted]?
Yes, but only for about a year and a half now. That's why I can still recognize that what happened there is wrong. They hadn't broken me down yet.
So to clarify, how old were you when you started attending classes there? How did this happen?
I was seventeen. My dad was an investment banker but his company was dissolved because of a lawsuit. He ended up losing a lot of money. I think the school reached out to him about their scholarship program? Or maybe one of his friends from the firm did. Actually, I'm fairly sure one of his friend's put me up to it. The creepy handsy one. Oh, I'm sorry, please don't tell anyone I said that. Please?
It's fine, this is for the department only. Can you tell us a bit about Saint Ursula's, in your own words?
Well, everyone basically knew it was just a school to train girls to be good trophy wives. It wasn't really a secret. They were either rich girls that were probably going to be married off as part of a business deal, or poor girls there on supposed scholarships whose parents dropped them off with the hopes that they'd marry into big money. Some of the girls were even really into that. The scholarships were covered by funds from what the faculty called private donors but were actually the prospective husbands of the girls who attended. The girls could attend from the age of fifteen, but the... the real abuse didn't really happen until their eighteenth birthday. Before that they might get hit with like, a switch on the knuckles, or have their ears boxed, but it was mostly just... the programming in the early years. To make them pliable for what came after.
After they turned eighteen you mean?
Yes. On the midnight of their eighteenth birthday they were woken up from their dorms and moved to a separate set of facilities on the campus and assigned to new rooms. The older and younger students never saw each other, not even in passing.
So what changed, after they moved to the new buildings?
I mean, everything. It was completely different.
Okay, let me ask this then, how did your average day at Saint Ursula's go? After you turned eighteen?
Well, we'd all wake up and get ready for classes, just like in the lower grades. Then we'd go to our first class of the day and line up outside for the underwear checks.
Underwear checks?
Yes. Underwear checks. Our uniforms were inspected first to make sure we have no visible panty lines or any straps showing through, that everything was in order, all regulation measurements. Then we'd step on a scale to make sure we were within the acceptable weight range. After that we'd... we were made to lift our shirts up over our tits, and our skirts up over our pussies. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean breasts. That's... what we were taught to call them, officer. I know it's... vulgar and rude.
It's fine, use whatever words you are comfortable with. So they made you show them your underwear?
Yes, to make sure they matched and that we didn't have any visible tanlines. It was mandatory that our underwear always matched, bra and panties, and that it was pleasing to look at. Well, sexy, basically. They would actually talk about how sexy they were, make comments about our bodies. The staff I mean. The disciplinary committee and the teachers. While we were all lined up like that, exposed. They really drug it out so we had to just keep standing there, raising our clothes, skirt in one hand, shirt in the other. Like, oh look at how perky your tits are today, Samantha, or oh I love the way I can see a camel toe in those lace bikini briefs, Juliette. It was really embarrassing. I hated it, every single day it was like that and I hated it. I wanted to curl up in a corner and just disappear. And if they didn't match we were punished.
How were you punished?
We had to take them off. I remember when it first happened, since no one had told me they had to match yet. I was made to strip and then lean up with this one other girl against the main windows in the hall. We were facing the wall with our bare asses sticking out. I remember that my breasts were squished up against the window because it was cold, and I was so upset that someone would see me. Then one of the discipline teachers, Mrs. [redacted] I think it was, took a wooden paddle and spanked our asses. I think it was ten swats each. I remember crying. I got five more swats for crying, too. I don't know why. The other girl was crying too, but she didn't get hit more! Another time I ordered a matched set but the discipline proctor didn't believe they were matching because they were more complimentary then paired and still made me strip and take the paddling! It was so unfair! After then I had to walk to class with my shirt pulled up like that so that my tits were all hanging out. And I couldn't cover up since we were always made to walk with our hands on our heads.
*You were made to walk with your hands on your head?*
We always walked like that, everywhere we went. They said it was for posture training. That's also why we didn't have desks. So we would develop a beautiful straight stance and lady-like decorum. We'd have to stand the whole day. We weren't allowed to go anywhere on our own, not even the bathrooms, and we would be walked from class to class by a member of the disciplinary committee. If we had to stop for any reason we were told to all face the wall. Sometimes when they stopped us they would check the length of our skirts with doggy drills.
Who would stop you? This disciplinary committee you've mentioned? And what's a doggy drill?
Doggy drills were when we were made to get down on the ground and put our asses up in the air. Like when you perform doggy-style sex. If our skirts were too long you wouldn't be able to see our pussies and panties and we'd get demerits. When standing the ends of our skirts were supposed to be level with the bottom of our ass cheeks, so when we bent over like that they'd lift up and anyone walking by would be able to see, well, everything down there. Sometimes they... made us all... lower our panties too so make sure everything was neat and tidy and in order. Pussy inspections always took ages, just... bent over in the hall like that, on display, waiting for it to be over. And yes, it was usually the committee member walking us who made us do them, but also any member of the staff could stop us at any time. There were quite a number of times when one of the staff saw us walking by and asked us to drill. Then he would ask one of the girls - usually me honestly - to go to the office for further disciplinary action.
So, stepping back a second, you mentioned tan lines?
Yes, about once a week we'd have mandatory tanning sessions in the courtyard. We were made to all strip naked and lay out on these mats. We had to spread our legs in these sort of yoga positions to make sure everything was evenly tanned. We sort of made this ring around the punishment pole. I always felt super weird about it because it wasn't very far from the fences. I know there were trees and bushes and stuff around the school property, but like, anyone walking by would be able to see us all naked out there. I know for a fact that there were people watching us sometimes.