Reformatory Girls Ch 07

Life in Hazely Reform School is grim. Every moment of every day is planned out for you. You must get up when you are told to get up, shower when you are told to shower, eat when and what you are told to eat, and work at what you are told to do when you are told to do it.

Add to that the fact that you are always liable to have a cane or a riding crop across your bare buttocks, and you are prevented from even touching your own genitals, let alone from masturbating, and life is about as grim as it can get.

But for Karen Frayn life has unexpectedly taken a turn for the better.

Alone in her bed at night she no longer suffers agonies of sexual frustration: instead she savours the astonishing orgasm Miss Lucy has given her, and looks forward to the next one.

Her father was right: money can buy you everything. And if Karen can have an orgasm like that, well, not every week, that is not possible, but on average every couple of weeks, she believes she will be able to survive her sentence.

Three days have passed since Miss Lucy brought Karen to a pitch of ecstasy the like of which she had never experienced before. There are four more days to go until the next shaving session.

Will she be lucky and get Miss Lucy again? She has no way of knowing. But as Saturday approaches she starts to get an ominous feeling. Maybe it is greedy to want another orgasm so soon. Maybe that would be too much of a good thing. Which is crazy, she realises. Before she was stuck in Hazely she used to have orgasms practically every day: now she is telling herself it is greedy to want two in a fortnight? That shows how she has been institutionalised, how she has started to think that her deprivation is just, that she has no right to another orgasm.

She must stop thinking like that. She has paid - or rather her father has paid - a substantial sum of money. She has the right to as many orgasms as she can have access to.

Nevertheless, the sense of foreboding will not loosen its hold on her: and she is not surprised when Saturday afternoon comes around and she finds it is Matron who is leading her into the consulting room and strapping her feet into the stirrups.

By the following Saturday both her clitoris and her brain are telling her she needs another orgasm. By the time she gets into the Waiting Room she is jittery, a bundle of nerves and sexual tension. She watches anxiously as the girls ahead of her are called in, by Matron and Miss Lucy alternately. She tries to calculate who she will get: but the two of them are keeping time with each other so closely it is impossible to predict.

Then - joy! - the girl ahead of her is summoned by Matron, and just seconds later Miss Lucy appears in the doorway and calls out her name.

Heart thumping she follows Miss Lucy into the consulting room. Once inside she tears off her skirt and knickers and is lying on the couch with her legs apart and her feet in the stirrups before Miss Lucy can lay down her clipboard.

"Someone's in a hurry today," says Miss Lucy, in her slow, caressing, voice.

"God, I've been waiting for this," says Karen.

"I've never known a girl so eager for a shave before," says Miss Lucy.

Karen smiles at her: she knows Miss Lucy likes to tease her.

Nevertheless Miss Lucy seems to be taking her time, spreading the shaving foam between Karen's legs and drawing the razor over her pudenda with no obvious sense of urgency. Karen twitches and sighs: just the touch of the razor is arousing her: she wants to be done, she wants to feel Miss Lucy's fingers inside her again.

"Do try to keep still," says Miss Lucy. "I don't want to nick you with the razor."

"How can I keep still?" breathes Karen. "Oh please, please hurry up."

"I have to shave you thoroughly Karen," says Miss Lucy. "I don't want anybody complaining that I don't do my job properly."

"Yes, but..." says Karen: then she gives up: Miss Lucy will do things her own time, she must be patient.

But she can't stop shuddering as Miss Lucy takes her labia between her thumb and forefinger and draws the razor sideways. And when Miss Lucy moves on downwards and starts to shave between her vagina and her anus, impatience gets the better of her.

"For God's sake bring me off," she gasps: "I'm right on the edge here." And when Miss Lucy doesn't immediately comply, Karen says: "Oh God, I'll do it myself," and reaches her hand down between her legs. Her clitoris throbs in response: but before Karen can start to rub she finds her hand has been grasped and lifted away and replaced at the side of the couch once again.

"Ah ah, Karen," says Miss Lucy. "Against the rules I'm afraid. No masturbation. If anyone cums in here it's under my hand."

"Then bring me off!" says Karen.

"Now Karen, you know the rules," Miss Lucy says. "Payment up front."

"But I have paid," protests Karen, as the razor is pressed into her anus and drawn outwards.

"That was for last time," says Miss Lucy. "If you want to cum again you have to pay again."

"You're teasing me," says Karen irritably: and then she sees the look on Miss Lucy's face and a cold shiver runs over her body: "You're not teasing me are you?"

"Not at all Karen," says Miss Lucy, and there's a steeliness in her look that Karen has never seen before.

"You can't do this," says Karen. "My father paid you five thousand pounds: you promised to give me orgasms."

"Orgasm Karen, singular. And I think I delivered on my promise: at least I didn't hear any complaints from you last time."

"This is monstrous," Karen says. "You know very well what you promised. Nobody pays five thousand pounds for one orgasm - I could have an hour's worth of sex with a girl for a hundred pounds."

"In that case," says Miss Lucy as she continues to shave the dark penumbra around Karen's anus, "perhaps you should ask Miss Bulstrode for a Pass, and go and find some tart who'll rub you off for a hundred pounds. Because I'm more expensive than that Karen: you know my charges: but as you're an established customer I'll give you a special discount: from now on the price is four thousand pounds."

"That's crazy," says Karen. "There's no way my father will pay again.

"Take it or leave it Karen," says Miss Lucy. "If you want to cum you have to pay. No payment, no orgasm."

"You... you..." words almost fail Karen. "You bitch. You little con artist."

"It isn't a good idea to call people names when they're shaving between your legs and your legs are strapped open," says Miss Lucy. "Otherwise things like this happen."

Karen gasps: all of a sudden something has forced its way up her anus: she squirms, tries to wriggle free of it, but it twists, viciously, hurting her, burrowing deeper into her, pressing into the muscled walls of her back passage.

"Take it out," she almost shouts: she feels like she needs to shit, and the muscles of her anus go through the motions of trying to expel the intruder: but Miss Lucy holds her finger firm, and Karen's muscles struggle in vain to dislodge it. Not until Miss Lucy has turned her hand through 360 degrees, and stretched Karen's anus almost beyond endurance, does she pull out her finger. Karen's anus closes gratefully: but her muscles feel sore and violated.

"You're rather tight down there," muses Miss Lucy. "Maybe you'd benefit from some regular stretching."

"You - how dare you," gasps Karen, whose eyes have started watering. "I'll - I'll report you."

At that Miss Lucy smiles:

"Go ahead," she says. "Call my Aunt now. Tell her I stuck my finger up your arse. And I'll tell her you're a lying little cow who tried to get me into trouble because I wouldn't bring her off. Who do you think she'll believe, Karen? Her niece? Or some Reform School delinquent?"

"You... you're evil," says Karen.

"That's not what you said when I brought you off last time," says Miss Lucy. "When I turned your legs to jelly. You got what you paid for you: either pay again or stop whingeing. Now apologise for what you called me."

"I won't," says Karen.

"You're not getting the message, are you?" says Miss Lucy. "See if this helps."

She reaches forward, and extends her middle finger, the one that has just been impaled up Karen's anus, towards Karen's face. Then she presses it against Karen's top lip and draws it slowly across Karen's nostrils, angling it so that Karen is forced to breathe in the smell from deep inside her own anus. Karen tries to twist her head away, but she can't escape that finger, which goes on to probe inside her nostrils, smearing traces of shit there. Karen screws up her nose: but she can't escape the smell: even when the finger is withdrawn the smell lingers, pungent and repellent, inside Karen's nostrils.

Miss Lucy draws the finger across Karen's lips, suggestively.

"Are you going to apologise Karen?" she asks.

"All right I apologise," says Karen desperately, and never has an apology been so obviously ill-intended. But Miss Lucy laughs, takes her finger away, and begins to release Karen's feet from the stirrups.

"No time for oil today," she says.

Karen says nothing: her nostrils keep screwing themselves up, involuntarily, trying to shut out the smell from Miss Lucy's finger. She waits until she is dressed, and standing: then she draws herself up to her full height, which is some inches taller than Miss Lucy, and summoning all the dignity she can manage she looks Miss Lucy full in the eye and says:

"You won't get away with this. I'll make sure my father has you thrown out of here."

But instead of faltering, Miss Lucy returns her stare levelly, and gives her a look of malice the like of which Karen has never seen before.

"You are going to regret that," Miss Lucy informs her.

Miss Lucy is angry. And when the next girl, Ruby Grey, takes off her skirt and knickers and presents herself for shaving, Miss Lucy finds it difficult to wrest her thoughts away from the stuck up bitch who has just threatened her, and the punishment she is going to get next time Miss Lucy lays her hands on her. Ruby Grey lies on the examination couch with her legs spread out waiting patiently. Ruby has skin the colour of rich, dark mocha coffee, and a broad smooth prominent mound like the pommel on a horse's saddle, so unlike the pinched, drooping little mounds on some of the girls. There is no loose flesh anywhere: such lips as she has are tucked neatly and tightly inside her slit - in contrast to those fleshy, dangling folds that hang either side of certain girls' vaginas. Normally she is a pleasure to shave - though she has so little growth of hair down there it is doubtful that she needs shaving once a month, let alone once a week. But something of the venom Miss Lucy is feeling towards Karen Frayn transfers itself towards Ruby Grey. As Miss Lucy draws the razor in one, long, frictionless sweep down over Ruby's mound and hears Ruby sigh, and watches Ruby twitch with arousal, her anger grows: what does the girl think this is, a massage parlour? She shaves around Ruby's anus, wondering whether to say something cutting or to arouse the girl to a pitch then leave her high and dry. It wouldn't take much to bring her close to the brink, she is clearly as frustrated as all the other girls, struggling to contain her arousal, wanting to give in to it but afraid of being punished.

Miss Lucy wipes away the shaving foam and dries her off, then sees a tiny droplet of moisture emerge from between Ruby's tight little labia. I'll teach her to get aroused whilst I'm shaving her Miss Lucy thinks: then suddenly another idea comes to her: an idea so much more to her liking that Miss Lucy has to compress her lips to prevent a malicious smile breaking through. She squirts some massage oil into the palm of one hand, applies it to the top of Ruby's mound, and notes how Ruby's breathing becomes shallow.

"You must be so, so frustrated Ruby," she says, massaging the oil over the top of Ruby's pubic bone, just far enough away from the girl's vagina to leave Ruby aroused and frustrated at the same time.

"Oh Miss Lucy - if only you knew," says Ruby with a shudder.

"I do know, Ruby," says Miss Lucy. "Believe me: I do know."

Another shudder from Ruby as Miss Lucy's hands slide downwards. Then Miss Lucy leans in close to Ruby and says in a husky voice:

"How would you like me to relieve you, Ruby?"

Ruby's eyes open wide as saucers: her mouth, too, falls open:

"Oh Miss Lucy - please."

"No noise then," Miss Lucy says; and Ruby nods.

Miss Lucy slides her finger into Ruby's shallow cleft, quickly locates the hard little nub of her clitoris, and flicks lightly over it. Ruby shivers and shudders. Moisture oozes around Miss Lucy's fingertips. Ruby's vagina is very pink against her brown skin: Miss Lucy slides first one, then a second finger inside: it is so hot in there Miss Lucy feels as though she had slid her fingers into a furnace. Ruby gasps: her thighs quiver as she pushes into Miss Lucy's hand. Miss Lucy rotates her fingers, then clamps the palm of her hand down over Ruby's mound, gently palpating Ruby's clitoris, working away around the whole of her vaginal opening. She can tell Ruby is on the brink:

"Come on then," she encourages: "cum in my hand Ruby."

Ruby flexes and pushes and moans; and then she peaks, working herself furiously into Miss Lucy's hand she climaxes, and can barely stop herself from shouting with joy as wave after wave of glorious, delirious pleasure take hold of her body. Oh oh oh oh oh she moans, as weeks of frustration are dissipated into Miss Lucy's hand, and all the muscles around her vagina seems to spasm together, wringing from her one great intoxicating gasp of climactic relief.

Ruby lies, gasping, on the examination table. Eventually her spasms subside, and she looks up wide-eyed at Miss Lucy.

"Miss Lucy - you are an angel," she breathes.

Miss Lucy merely smiles down at her, removes her hand from between her legs, cleans her up and washes her own hands at the basin.

"Time to go now," she tells Ruby.

"Miss Lucy - you have saved my life," breathes Ruby, as she gropes for her clothes.

"I'm glad you feel that way," says Miss Lucy. "Because now I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," says Ruby.

"It's very easy," says Miss Lucy. "You know Karen Frayn?"

"Yes," says Ruby.

"I want you to go to her with a message," says Miss Lucy. "Pick a quiet moment when she is on her own. Then tell her: 'Miss Lucy brought me off free and gratis'"

"'Miss Lucy brought me off free and gratis?'" asks Ruby, puzzled. "Sure, if that's what you want."

"It is Ruby. You can go into as much detail as you like. Tell her what you just told me if you want to - how I saved your life. Only make sure nobody else overhears you. And don't tell anyone else what I've done for you."

"Sure," says Ruby. "'Miss Lucy brought me off free and gratis.'" She giggles: "I'm not likely to forget that one, am I?"

"I should hope not Ruby," says Miss Lucy as she ushers Ruby out of the room.

Miss Lucy's spirits are somewhat restored after that, as she anticipates the effect Ruby's message will have on Karen Frayn. More than that: she is even pleased at the pleasure she has given Ruby. Miss Lucy, who has made a point of finding her Aunt's Password and accessing the records on the Hazely computer, is curious about, but morally indifferent to, the crimes the girls in Hazely have committed. But if pushed to make a judgement she would probably say that she had no time for rich bitches who drive their Porsches into pedestrians, but had sympathy for the likes of Ruby Grey. For Ruby's crime was to charge men for 'entertainment', along with another girl with whom she shared a flat. Had Ruby been operating on her own - with much less protection against violence or non-payment - she would not have committed a crime. But because the two girls were working together, they were accused of operating a brothel. The other girl absconded before the case came to Court: Ruby was sentenced to six months in Hazely.

To the extent that she is capable of sympathy with anybody, Miss Lucy would have been sympathetic to Ruby on two counts. Firstly, because Ruby and her friend were only doing what Miss Lucy and her own friend Kim Starkey had done from time to time. And secondly, because if a girl could not make a living with what she had between her legs, then the Law, not the girl, was the criminal.

So all in all she attends to the succession of girls who enter her consulting room in a sunnier mood. And as she watches each one open her legs, twitch as the razor glides over her pubic region, gasp as loudly as she dares - in fact, do everything short of asking out loud to let Miss Lucy know how desperately randy she is and how much she longs for Miss Lucy to relieve her - she realises just how much power has been placed in her hands. You have saved my life: that was what Ruby had said. And that was the extent of her power - the power, almost, of life and death over these girls.

It is a good feeling, an intoxicating feeling. It brings a warm, moist glow to the place between her legs. And by the time the last girl, Kelly Watson, is ushered in, Miss Lucy is feeling quite skittish. She watches Kelly undress, and straps her feet into the stirrups. She has never liked Kelly Watson; she cannot quite say why, as Kelly has never been rude or uncooperative with her. Maybe it is her build: her strapping thighs and her broad fat arse: something about these are offensive to Miss Lucy. Or maybe it is because the area of pubic shadow extends halfway up her fat stomach and down over the tops of her thighs and around the curves of her buttocks. The girl is a nightmare to shave, she takes twice as long as any other girl. Before she was shaved she must have had a bush like a Guardsman's bearskin. So Miss Lucy decides to have a bit of fun with her.

To begin with she shaves her as normal, only tenderly, making sure to draw the razor caressingly over her vulva, until the tell-tale drops of moisture appear between her labia. Down between her buttocks she makes sure she fingers Kelly's anus just enough to have the fat girl squirming with sensations of pleasure. By the time she has finished shaving away the stubble Kelly is a gasping, wriggling bundle of longing. Miss Lucy watches her, wondering how long it will be before she gives in and begs her to finish her off. She can see the conflict in Kelly's face - longing to ask, but afraid, lest she is reported and punished.

When Miss Lucy starts with the oil, Kelly can contain herself no longer.

"Please," she whimpers, in a voice which is strangely high and small for such a big girl. "Do you know what you're doing to me?"

"All I'm doing is shaving and oiling you Kelly," says Miss Lucy. "Anything else you are doing to yourself. If it makes you uncomfortable you should exercise more self-control."

"But it's been so long," whimpers Kelly. "I can't help myself. Couldn't you - please - oh, you know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean Kelly," says Miss Lucy. "And I could report you and have you punished. But I won't do that Kelly. But tell me: if I were to relieve you, what would you do for me in return?"

"Anything," gasps Kelly, sensing a glimmer of real hope, and feeling her clitoris starting to throb and flutter with excitement. "I don't have any money - you know that. But - but I'll bring you off as well if you want me to."

At this Miss Lucy laughs. She withdraws her oily hand from Kelly's pubis, takes a step or two down the side of the examination couch, and begins to undo the buttons on Kelly's blouse. Kelly waits, puzzled. Miss Lucy continues to undo buttons until Kelly's bare little fleshy protuberances are exposed. Each one is scarcely bigger than the sucker at the end of a child's arrow. Miss Lucy shakes her head pityingly: the she grasps each of Kelly's nipples between a finger and thumb, and shakes them, watching as the little fleshy not-quite-breasts wobble. Kelly screws up her face and flinches.