Eve's Higher Education

This is part three of Eva's education, and will make more sense if you've already read parts one and two. Everyone in this story is over 18.

1

Life at the Abbeye continued for Petra and me, under the stern control of Monique, after Christine had left. Two new girls were due to arrive, Marcel was to drive them from heaven only knew where. Kaitlyn was the daughter of an American businessman, and was said to be 'out of control' whilst Shireen was the 'arranged' wife of a Maharajah from Mumbai. He was elderly, and said he needed to have his wife disciplined. Both had been recommended by Christine.

Monique had surprised Petra and me when she called us into her office the day before Kaitlyn and Shireen were due to arrive.

'I decided it was high time you had a maid, girls,' she said, imperiously, 'so let me introduce Celia.'

Standing in the shadows behind us, as we entered, had been a slight, blonde girl, with elfin features, and hair cut in a shoulder-length bob. At first glance she looked very young, almost adolescent, but then I saw a sign of more mature grace in her movements as she stepped in front of us, in a short black silk dress, and curtsied prettily.

Monique hadn't finished. 'Celia is almost twenty. In case you were wondering, she is transgender, though still...er incomplete. She will serve as your maid and will be treated as a woman in all respects. Is that clear?'

'Yes, Mistress,' we chorused. With small, pointed breasts poking obviously bra-less at the thin silk of her dress, and long, slender, nylon-clad legs perched on high needle-heels, there looked little doubt as to her sex. I glanced at Petra, and saw that she was smiling.

Monique continued, 'Your two new ladies arrive tomorrow, and I know you have read their histories. Both are booked for beauty treatment, and 'specials' with Bibi the day after tomorrow, but I should like them both given a proper introduction to life here as soon as they arrive. They mustn't be allowed to think of this as a holiday. I trust I don't need to tell you how to go about that?' She smirked.

'No mistress,' we replied, knowing full well what she intended.

2

Our new maid, Celia, walked into our rest-room, where Petra and I were having coffee next morning, and curtsied nicely. Beside her was an attractive, tall honey blonde with long, wavy hair, wearing a skirt-suit that looked as if it might have been Armani, in pale green, and a white silk blouse. She wore nude stockings and pumps which matched her suit.

'Hi,' said the newcomer, 'I'm Kaitlyn. I guess you're expecting me. Can I get a drink somewhere before the maid takes me to my room?'

I exchanged looks with Petra, then stood, and said, 'Hello Kaitlyn. We

were

expecting you. And no, you cannot have a drink until I see fit. I am Eva, and you will always address me as "Mistress Eva." The maid you will address as Miss Celia. Is that clear?'

She looked at me, her head tilted to one side, as if undecided how to respond.

'I said,

is that clear?'

'Hey,' she said, and started to say something. I'd had enough, and slapped her resoundingly across the cheek. She immediately started to cry, but I was unmoved.

'Bring her to the red room, Celia, please,' I said. We had recently given colours to the various punishment rooms, so that girls being taken to them for the first time were unaware of the purpose of the room. I strode off there first, so that I was awaiting their arrival, dressed in one of our 'uniforms,' a black whaleboned corset, the top of which was a frilled uplift bra, just about covering my nipples, and a short flared black skirt over lace-topped stockings, which were cinched to the garter straps of my corset. Five inch needle heels completed my ensemble, and I carried a long-handled riding crop. Celia, looking as nervous as our new guest, entered, and Kaitlyn was beside her, once more looking somewhat haughty, obviously recovered from my slap.

'I don't know who you think...' she began.

'Strip!' I said, not letting her finish the sentence.

'What?' she said.

'You heard,' I said. 'Marcel, help her, please!'

She hadn't seen that behind the door, as she entered, the large and rugged figure of Marcel, bare-breasted, bristling with muscle, was standing. Now he approached and seized Kaitlyn's arms in his vice-like grip, while I pulled down her skirt. Marcel soon had her jacket off, and I simply tore off the silk blouse. Bra and panties posed no problem, and she was stood in garter belt and stockings, trying to hide her breast and pubes with useless hands.

3

'The horse, I think, for today,' I said to Marcel, who grinned, and led Kaitlyn, protesting, by the wrist, to something resembling a gymnasium 'horse' but with stirrups at either end. Kaitlyn, alternately cursing and sobbing, was secured - her wrists into stirrups at one end of the horse, her ankles at the other, so that her legs were spread apart.

'Nice pussy,' I remarked, 'but that asshole doesn't look as if it's had a lot of mileage, would you say, Marcel?'

'I imagine that will be remedied soon, Miss Eva,' said Marcel, chuckling, 'I'd be glad to assist.'

'Right now, I think we need to warm her up a little,' I said, 'I know you don't have long, so I'll have to get on with it if you want to watch.'

'I'd love to watch,' said Marcel,' But I have to go and fetch the other one. Anyway, Miss Petra is here, I think.'

Even as he spoke, Petra, dressed identically to me, was coming through the door. 'Oh, lovely,' she said, 'She's got a nice body, hasn't she? Look even better with a few stripes.'

I glanced at Celia, who was round-eyed, as she watched the scene unfolding, then I gave the crop a few exploratory swishes through the air, before just laying it on Kaitlyn's buttocks for a moment to let her feel the instrument before it was used on her pale flesh. Then I said, 'I'm going to hurt you, my dear, quite a lot.' I took aim, then lashed her savagely across both buttocks, raising an immediate red wheal, and causing her to scream.

'It hurts, doesn't it?' I said, 'not as much, perhaps, as some of the whips you'll feel while you're here, but it's a start.' I placed the next stroke lower down, near the lower crease of her buttocks, just above her stocking tops, knowing that hurt even more, and she writhed in agony as I readied a third blow, now higher, up near her coccyx.

'Oh Christ! No, no! I can't take it!' she wailed, but she had to and I rained another seven on her poor ass, until it was a mass of red and purple welts. Then, before I got Celia to unfasten her stirrups, I ran my hand through her pink crack, and found it quite surprisingly wet.

'We may well have the makings of a pain slut here,' I said to Petra, then asked Celia to go and fetch some soothing balm from the store-room, so that she could administer it to the now-weeping Kaitlyn.

4

I told Celia to take Kaitlyn to her room when she was ready, and to take some lunch up to her, then Petra and I, soon joined by a hesitant and timid Celia, had our own lunch.

'How is Kailyn?' I asked Celia, when we had taken our coffees to the lounge..

She grinned. 'Sore,' she said, 'But she stopped yelling when I put that stuff on.'

'She'll be okay,' I was saying, as the door opened, and Marcel announced that he had brought Shireen, and that she was waiting in the lobby.

Thanking Marcel, I sent Celia to fetch her to us.

When the maid brought in our new arrival, I sized her up. She was a very different girl from Kaitlyn. If anything, more attractive than the American girl, she was dark-olive-skinned - perhaps coffee-coloured may be a better description - with long, lustrous black hair, straight and thick, down to her slender waist. She had long, slim legs, and was beautifully dressed in a white halter-necked sundress, mid-thigh length, white stockings and white, strappy sandals with needle heels. She wore long pendant gold ear-rings, a big gold bracelet on one wrist and a gold Rolex on the other. She was gorgeously made-up, and had long, probably acrylic red nails.

I introduced myself and Petra, telling her she must address us both as 'Mistress', and Celia as 'Miss.'

'Yes, Mistress,' she said, obediently.

'Take Shireen to the red room, Celia, please,' I instructed, then, as they left, I turned to Petra. 'What would you like to do to her?' I asked.

'Apart from fuck her, you mean?' she said.

'That's later, when she's in bed between the two of us,' I agreed, my pussy starting to get more than a little moist, 'But right now, we need to give her a greeting to l'Abbeye.'

We both followed the maid and her new charge out and to the red room, where Shireen was looking calmly about her. Marcel had also joined us.

5

I nodded to Petra to take the lead.

'Please strip, Shireen,' said Petra, and the Indian girl showed none of the petulant resistance we had so recently seen from Kaitlyn, but calmly reached up to the back of her neck and pulled open the bow holding her halter in place. The bodice of her dress fell to reveal nice, perky breasts, with dark brown nipples. She went on to unbuckle the belt at her waist and her dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing in her white, lace-topped hold-ups and white lace panties that concealed little. Unhesitatingly she hooked fingers over the waistband and eased down the panties. She had a clean-shaven mound.

'You can leave the stockings on,' said Petra, then whispered to Celia, who seemed to have been told what to do beforehand.

The maid went over to a chest of drawers and came back with a pair of handcuffs, which she handed to Petra. Petra cuffed Shireen's slender wrists in front of her, then led her over to the whipping post, which was, in effect, one of three columns holding up the ceiling beam of this old room. There were snap-links attached at various heights, but Petra needed Marcel's reach to attach Petra's cuffs well above head-height.

Again Petra spoke softly to Celia, who fetched her a tray containing three or four smallish whips. The one Petra selected was a single-tail, a vicious little instrument.

Petra walked up to Shireen, who could only touch the floor thanks to her high heels, but looked at her captors with a kind of calm acceptance of her fate, I thought, her hands cuffed high above her head, her lithe, caramel-coloured body stretched prettily.

'I am going to hurt you now, Shireen,' said Petra, 'But perhaps you would like to kiss me first?' Without waiting for a reply, she pulled Shireen's head down enough to be able to kiss her on the lips, which she proceeded to do, long, and hard, her tongue probing her victim's open mouth.

Then, seemingly satisfied, Petra stood back, took careful aim, and the long, thin lash of the single-tail snaked round and bit sharply into the pristine flesh of Shireen's back, just below her shoulder-blades. She gasped slightly at what must have stung terribly, and didn't even moan at the next vicious stroke that took her lower down, the tip of the lash leaving a tiny speck of blood just below her lovely right breast. A third stroke wrapped itself around her waist, and left a bright red line where it had fallen. Shireen was unmoved, and scarcely made a sound until she had endured ten strokes, when a small moan could be heard, and I was sure she shuddered as the whip found its mark.

'Take her down, Marcel, please,' said Petra, then asked Celia to take her to her room and soothe her back with the 'usual' cream.

6

An hour or so later, I was summoning Celia on her bleeper, that she always carried in the pocket of her dress. When she appeared, I told her that she was to ensure that the two newcomers dressed for dinner, and what they were to wear. They needed to be introduced to our ritual immediately. She said that both women had complained that their bags had not been delivered to their room, so that they had no clothes at all. I laughed and told Celia that all the clothes they were going to need during their stay were in their rooms, and she was to relay this information to them. Their dresses for that evening were the first ones on the left in their closets, and nothing else should be worn. Celia looked at me to see if I was serious, and seeing that I was, left to do my bidding.

Petra and I dressed for dinner as usual, aware of Monique's critical eye. I chose an old favourite, a silver-grey silk halter-neck gown, backless right down to the start of my ass-cleavage, and which allowed my breasts enough freedom to jiggle a little as I walked. The skirt was tight down to below my knees, then flared out into a train. Petra was stunning in emerald silk, a dress so tight it was difficult to see how she got into it, showing off every detail of her gorgeous body, nipples clearly defined through the silk.

When our new charges showed up, being led in by Celia, I almost applauded our new maid, as she had them handcuffed and had attached a lead to each of their cuff-chains, and was leading them like two pet dogs. She had really got the message! And the two women looked just great, wearing identical long black nightgowns, completely transparent, with long sleeves. They both wore high-heeled, furry black mules. Both had been allowed make-up, but no jewellery.

'Thank you Celia,' said Monique, who was sat at the head of the table, magnificent in maroon velvet, 'Please get them seated and then we can all have a nice dinner.'

It was indeed a good dinner, and as soon as it was over, Monique tapped her glass, and silence reigned.

'This is what is going to happen in the next two weeks, Kaitlyn and Shireen: Tomorrow you will have an extensive course of beauty treatment, some of which may well prove uncomfortable. You will also be fitted with certain accessories. Then your training will commence. You will be whipped or caned regularly, and taught to give, and receive, sexual pleasure the like of which you have never before known. Before you leave you will be marked in a manner of my choosing.'

7

The next morning Celia had been instructed to get the two women up at six, have them shower, and take them, clad in just a short silk robe each, and barefoot, to take coffee and a croissant in the cafeteria. Then they were to report to Bibi and Tina in the Salon. Kaitlyn protested at the early hour, but Shireen went quietly. By seven thirty, both women were installed in chairs not unlike those found in dentists' surgeries, but with their ankles firmly held in stirrups, their feet almost a metre apart. The two specialists began their work. At first both concentrated on simple beauty treatment, plucking and threading eyebrows, fitting false lashes, and making their already lovely hair even more gorgeous. Then they started on the piercing, beginning, despite protests from both subjects, on tongues, which both received gold studs (with anaesthetic spray), then both women had the sharp pain of having their nipples pierced, and gold rings fitted there. That left their genital piercing. After a conference, they decided that Kaitlyn's clitoris was prominent enough to have a ring fitted, and her scream announced the piercing that took place there. The Indian girl's clit, however, was rather small, and hidden behind its protective hood, which was where her ring had to be placed. This was accomplished without any drama.

Bibi had finished with the two women, and I asked her if she could give Celia a tongue stud - she agreed, and it was soon done. Celia, unlike our two guests, appeared proud, and I told her she could try it out on me when it had stopped being sore.

But Tina had taken over now, and was working on the two women, measuring up their ankles, wrists and necks. When she had finished, it was time for lunch, and we all went to sit in the cafeteria for a light snack. The girls who had new tongue studs were having a little trouble eating and drinking. Remembering how it had been when my own had just been done, I sympathized.

After lunch we all trooped back to the Salon, where Tina had everything ready. The two women climbed back into the chairs, and were soon fitted with two inch wide stainless steel bands, locked snugly on each ankle and wrist. Each one had a stout ring set into its surface. A much narrower steel band was fitted around each woman's neck. That, too, had a ring attached. Tina then clipped a length of strong stainless steel chain, around half a metre in length, between each ankle, and a rather shorter length between each wrist.

'Right you are,' she said, 'all done.'

'Well, almost,' I interjected, and held out two whaleboned waist-cinchers I had brought with me from the store. They were like small black corsets, fitting quite snugly around the waist - until the laces were pulled tight in the back, then they became excruciating. Both women found them very tough to wear.

8

The two women who left the Salon that afternoon were very different from the women who had entered that morning. I made a point of visiting both of them in their rooms as they were preparing to dress for dinner. Both were suffering from the cruel constriction of their waists by their cinch-belts, and I assured them it would get better. Kaitlyn was outraged about being cuffed and shackled - I just told her to get over it. Celia had been told which of the dresses from their closets they should wear - for this second night they were to be allowed a little more privacy - silk gowns, marginally less transparent than their first night's dresses, but they had slits in the skirts, almost up to the waist.

Monique again presided over the dinner table. As Celia led the two 'guests' in, shuffling along in their hobble-chains, their wrists cuffed in front of them, Monique said, 'Ladies, you will find that your chairs have been replaced. I advise sitting down rather slowly.' She chuckled gently, then said, 'Petra, Eva, do make sure they are impaled anally, won't you.'

I walked around to Kaitlyn's chair as Petra did the same for Shireen, and the girls soon found out the reason for the slits in their dresses. Each chair had a long, slightly curved, slim phallus set into the back of its seat, and the phalli had been pre-lubricated, awaiting the arrival of a virgin anus.

'Spread your cheeks with both hands,' I advised Kaitlyn, when I had unclipped her cuff-chain, 'and ease your ass down onto it.'

'But I've never...' She began.

'Well now's the time, then, because you're going to have Marcel's prick up there soon!'

Looking across the table I saw Shireen's normally big, liquid eyes, were bigger and more liquid than ever, and her mouth was wide open, so I knew she was already impaled on the phallus. Kaitlyn was still protesting, but her complaints turned to more physical moans as she sank onto the wooden cock, and the new sensation literally filled her.

'Good,' said Monique, 'you are both to remain in that position during dinner, then I shall have a little treat for you before your training begins tomorrow.'

She had told Petra and me in advance what that treat was, and we looked forward to it. We had both worn halter-neck dresses in anticipation. When dinner was over, Kaitlyn and Shireen were allowed to rise from their seats, a move that was accompanied by an amusing 'sucking' noise, and chained they were allowed to sit on a sofa near the end of the table. Petra and I, meanwhile knelt on cushions in front of Monique, who stood, and flipped open the bows holding our dresses up. We were thus rendered topless. Monique reached behind her and produced a long, thick bull-whip. She stood back, without further ado, and sent the long snaking leather lash hard across my back, just below my shoulder-blades. It stung, but I was well used to being whipped, and, in fact, had been missing it recently. Petra received the next stroke, and moaned theatrically. We each took some ten lashes from our dear mistress, whom we thanked in the appropriate manner, and then, after we had helped each other with our dresses, we took Kaitlyn and Shireen back to their rooms.