First Term At St Penelopes Day 04

[[ Hi all, while this stands alone, it's easy to go and read parts 1-3 first, links are in my profile.

So, go get caught up then come here for more fun.

I love talking about my stories and getting ideas & opinions from readers for future work, so do get in touch. We're having some great conversations!

Remember, this is a light-hearted, lesbian sex, school romp. It's not meant as a serious portrayal of lesbian relationships. All participants are 18+.

This one contains WATER SPORTS / pee drinking and some non-consensual spanking -- if that's not your thing best try a different story.]]

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First Term at St Penelope's -- Week 4

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"Stop eyeing up Mademoiselle Fontaine!" Caroline shook her head. All around them sixth-form girls were eating their lunch. The younger class tables lay to Beth's rear, and ahead of her the object of her attention sat at the mistresses' table, with the headmistress, Mrs Johnson, at one elbow and the senior French teacher, Madam Dupont at the other.

"I'm allowed to look..." Beth kept her eyes on the young French mistress. Mademoiselle Fontaine was the school's newest recruit and had come on a temporary placement to improve the girls' conversational French. She looked to be in her early twenties and managed to turn perfectly acceptable teaching attire -- a jacket, blouse, and knee-length skirt -- into something that might be modelled in Vogue. Her long, dark hair gleamed, and her makeup, though discrete, was applied with a finesse that Beth envied with her whole heart.

"You can't mess around with a teacher. Not that she'd want some American teenager." Beth's cousin rolled her eyes.

"Why not? I'm over eighteen."

"Because," Caroline drew in a deep breath as if explaining to an idiot, "she would get sacked and you would get expelled. Just because it's legal doesn't mean it's OK!"

"We'd do it in secret," Beth said. "At her apartment."

Caroline giggled. "You've got this all worked out."

"Of course," Beth said primly.

"Well, you'll find that teachers in this school are used to schoolgirl crushes. Bored silly of them, I wouldn't wonder. And you'll end up looking rather foolish if you give her the come on. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Beth supposed that her cousin was right, and turned her attention to her lunch. English food still seemed like an ongoing form of punishment as far as Beth was concerned. She'd definitely lost weight since she'd arrived at St Penelope's, and she hadn't had much to spare in the first place. Still, she didn't mind a slim waist, and the school meals definitely made dieting easy.

She poked half-heartedly at the diced carrots still littering her plate. Unimpressed she lifted her gaze to where the head girl, Charlotte Chase sat at the end of the table. Flick, Charlotte's girlfriend, and deputy head girl, sat beside the aristocratic red-head, and shot a warning glance Beth's way.

Beth still didn't know if Flick was aware of Charlotte's visit to her bed the previous week. She looked the jealous type, even if it was technically a disciplinary visit. Charlotte had peed in Beth's mouth -- an unofficial school punishment for cursing -- and although Beth knew she should feel both humiliated and disgusted, her thoughts kept returning to the incident. It hadn't been that bad at all, she told herself. And the chance to lick Charlotte 'dry', however brief, had been extremely thrilling. She'd never done anything like that before, and both flavours kept returning to her in quiet moments. She very definitely wanted a second taste of the honourable Miss Chase. She'd wanted to be Charlotte's girl, and however humiliating it might have been to be used as a toilet like that, it had also been a very intimate thing that made Beth's pussy hot and damp even now in the noisy dining room.

Plus, it hadn't really been about punishment or about cursing, it had been something Charlotte wanted. A test. Charlotte had spoken about Beth becoming her pet. Beth wasn't sure about that, but if being a pet was what it took to later replace Flick, then she'd give it the old school try!

After lunch Beth went to her French lesson. As Beth had anticipated, Mademoiselle Fontaine was taking the girls for a conversation class.

Beth saw a free seat beside Gwen and made her way towards it.

"You're late, Pudding," Cherry murmured as Beth squeezed past her.

Beth sat settled her bottom on the empty chair. Gwen smiled a welcome. She was probably the prettiest girl in the year besides Charlotte and -- though Beth hated to admit it -- Flick. Unlike those two however, Gwen was short and approachable. And since the 'pudding incident' when Gwen had eaten half a treacle pudding off Beth's inner thighs, she'd shared a comfortable friendship with the blonde beauty. The other two girls in the French class with whom Beth was most friendly were Sita and Cherry. Sita was rather reserved but seemed nice. Beth had been amazed to find the girl being finger-fucked by mousey little Helen in the rear stairwell of the art building, but it showed she had an adventurous side, and Beth hoped to see more of it one day.

Cherry, a tall black girl with an easy, flirtatious smile, had been the one to finish the 'pudding incident' by licking Beth clean under the desk during an English lesson, driving her to the second of her public orgasms during the traditional 2-day hazing new girls had to endure. They had yet to revisit the matter, but Cherry's gentle teasing suggested that she would be happy for another taste. Beth only hoped there would be less treacle involved, and fewer clothes too. She'd admired Cherry's statuesque body in the showers on quite a number of occasions now, especially her heavy breasts, and often thought about the girl when touching herself in bed.

The lesson progressed. Beth tried to concentrate but her mind kept wandering into daydreams where the tall, slim French mistress returned her adoring looks. In Beth's imagination the young teacher kept her back after class, took her hand, and led her off to the little blue Nissan parked in a staff spot behind the main hall. Beth let her imagination lead her under the woman's business skirt and make a slow advance up slim, dark-stockinged legs to discover whatever shockingly erotic lingerie she'd bought with her from Paris. Beth inhaled slowly, imaging the scent of Mademoiselle Fontaine's--

"Beth Summer! Attendez-vous!"

The young woman, narrowed her beautiful eyes and shot a series of rapid-fire questions at Beth, stretching her rather basic French to its limits.

After fending off the first four or five enquiries with passable but short replies, Beth found herself flummoxed by the next question. Something about hot fish?

"Pardon, Mademoiselle?" Beth begged a second chance, but the repetition didn't change the fact she only knew half the words. She seemed to be asking what part of her Beth should be paying most attention to.

Beth made a wild guess and said, "Votre levres, Mademoiselle." - 'Your lips, Miss.' Thinking that would be the sensible way to study pronunciation. Beth smiled as sweetly as she could, hoping to placate the woman.

Instead, Mademoiselle Fontaine flew into a Gallic rage and Beth's French proved insufficient to translate anything but the end of it when the teacher slowed down a little and told her that her insolence had earned her a detention that evening. Beth's first detention.

Beth kept her head down for the rest of the lesson, but did risk a scribbled note to Gwen, asking what she'd done wrong. The note came back under the table. 'She asked what you were daydreaming about all lesson. You didn't have to tell her, silly. Also, which lips? :D'

Mortified, Beth blushed and crumpled the note into her skirt pocket.

By the end of the school day Beth was feeling a little better about the whole thing. She would go to Mademoiselle during the detention and explain everything. They would laugh about it, and the teacher might offer her some private tutoring. Who knew where that might lead? Perhaps a chance for Beth to show woman what a cunning linguist she was...

The elegant young teacher made even Charlotte Chase look like a schoolgirl, and as much as Beth wanted Charlotte's attentions, how much more exciting would it be to be taken in hand by an experienced, sophisticated French woman?

Beth knew detentions were conducted in the classroom at the far end of the corridor which connected the main hall to the library. After dinner when the rest of the class went up to the dormitories or the common room, Beth took herself to detention and knocked on the door. She'd made sure her hair was brushed and her face clean. Makeup wasn't allowed, and they could only wear the school's ugly brown and orange blazers and skirts. Even so, Beth had snuck on a hint of lip gloss, and stood as tall as she could, chest out, hoping to make a good impression when Mademoiselle Fontaine opened the door.

Instead, Flick opened it. Beth took a step back, surprised and disappointed. "Did I--"

"Come in," Flick eyed her coldly. "I'm running the detention."

Horrified, Beth hurried in past the tall 'cheerleader', head bowed. She hadn't considered that the head girl or one of the two deputy heads might supervise things like this for the teachers.

Beth was further embarrassed to find herself the only sixth-former in detention. Three of the other four girls looked to be about twelve, and the fourth was a curly haired fifteen-year-old called Harriette. Beth only knew her name because the teachers were always shouting it.

"Get your books out and work in silence," Flick instructed from behind the teacher's desk. Her tone dared any of them to give her cheek. For good measure she picked up a 12-inch wooden ruler from and tapped it meaningfully on the desktop.

Beth did as she was told and spent a pretty miserable hour conjugating irregular verbs. She glanced up a few times only to find Flick's unfriendly gaze on her. The girl was very pretty and had a body to die for, but had a serious case of resting bitch face. Beth knew that when Flick smiled for Charlotte though, it lit her up, and she looked as sweet as pie, her even features framed by sandy blonde bangs.

Flick stood up without warning and announced the end of the detention. "That will be enough. You little oiks can push off. Beth, stay." She went to the door and opened it.

The four younger girls shuffled out. Harriette making a face at Beth as she left. Flick closed the door on her.

"Why do I have to sta--"

Flick took Beth's wrist in a painful grip and jerked her back towards the teacher's desk. "Because I said so. Stand there!"

Leaving Beth where she was, Flick went back to the door, took a key from her pocket, and locked it. She pulled the blind down over the little window, then went to each of the four larger windows and pulled the cords to close the slats on the venetian blinds, closing out the evening beyond.

Beth watched, too nervous to challenge the older girl. Flick wasn't just the deputy head girl, she was also taller and stronger than Beth, a natural athlete, used to being obeyed by all the girls with the exception of Charlotte.

Flick reached into her school bag and brought out two lengths of what looked like soft black rope, the sort used for curtain ties, both with a slipknot loop at each end.

"What are you--"

"I didn't say you could talk in detention!" Flick put the two leftmost legs of the teacher's desk through the ends of the ropes. "Come here." She reached out, took hold of Beth's left wrist and tugged her up close to the opposite side of the desk. "Now put your hand through here. Lean over."

Beth tried half-heartedly to pull away but ended up letting Flick cinch both the free loops around her wrists, forcing her lean across the desk, her hanging breasts almost brushing the desktop, the desk's edge hard against her hips.

Flick pulled something out of her skirt pocket. A ball-gag, perhaps the one Beth had been forced to wear during the hazing on her first night at the school. "If you make any sound I don't want to hear then you'll be wearing that. Understand?"

Beth nodded, her throat too dry to answer.

Flick prowled around the desk, assessing the arrangement. She moved behind Beth and lifted her school skirt, tucking the back of it into her waistband to expose her bottom.

Beth found her voice. "You can't do that!"

Flick moved in quickly, her groin against Beth's ass, one hand snatching up the ball-gag. Beth opened her mouth to protest, realising too late that she should have kept it shut. Her teeth closed on the firm rubber ball but couldn't stop it sliding behind them. Flick tightened the strap behind Beth's head.

Beth made a muffled complaint, but Flick had already moved out of sight behind her, sinking to tug Beth's cotton panties down around her knees.

"Mo!" Beth's 'no' lacked both volume and the letter 'n'.

"Poor baby." Flick's voice took on an uncharacteristic softness. "Are you stuck?" Her warm hand slid over one cheek of Beth's bum.

Beth tried to say that she was sorry and wanted to go, but whatever escaped the gag just sounded like animal grunts.

Flick leaned in over Beth, her breasts grazing Beth's back as she picked up the wooden ruler from the desk with deliberate slowness. She whispered in Beth's ear. "Remember, little American, this is twelve inches. It could be a yardstick."

"Mo! Mon't!"

The crack of wood against bum cheek was startlingly loud, and the blow was more painful than Beth could have imagined. She jolted against the desk, scraping it forward, shouting into the gag. She tried to bring her hands back to soothe and defend her burning bottom, but the ropes held her firm.

Beth tried to say she was sorry, tried to say please stop.

The next blow landed on both cheeks. Beth collapsed across the desk, stamping her feet rapidly to try to lessen the sting somehow, but the next blow arrived even before she could replace the breath that had been shocked out of her.

Another hit of the ruler, the wood cracking across Beth's ass. Another. Beth couldn't believe Flick was doing this to her. She couldn't believe how much it hurt. She wanted to escape, to call for help, but all she could do was lie there gasping and sobbing, her bare bottom presented for more caning.

The blows kept raining down and Beth's bottom felt as if it were on fire. She wriggled and slid, trying to avoid the ruler, but it didn't help. Even when a blow missed her ass and slapped her thigh it hurt just as much.

And suddenly, it was over. Beth lay with her weight on the desktop, sobbing and slobbering around the gag, her eyes full of tears, her nose snotty.

"What a pretty red bottom you have, Beth Summer." Cool fingers traced their way across her tortured flesh, making her shudder. "I would enjoy punishing it again. Very much." The fingers slid down between Beth's thighs, playing through her pubic hair. "So, do bear that fact in mind when making eyes at Charlotte." One finger followed the folds of Beth's pussy. "Or should I take this dampness as a sign you enjoyed our little session and want to meet my yardstick?"

"Mo!" Beth said wetly around the rubber ball in her mouth. "Mo! Mick!"

"Good girl." Flick tugged Beth's panties to her ankles. "Step for me. And the other one."

Beth stepped obediently out of her panties.

Flick moved around the desk, putting the cotton underwear in her skirt pocket. She undid the gag and dried it on Beth's blouse before returning it to the same pocket. Then, in no hurry, she freed Beth's wrists.

"No more misbehaving?"

"No, Flick." Beth kept her eyes on the floor.

"No more cheeking Mademoiselle Fontaine?"

"No, Flick."

"Good." Flick went to the door and unlocked it. "Off you go then."

Beth started forward, almost at a run.

"Wait!"

Despite herself, Beth stopped in the doorway.

Flick reach out and untucked Beth's skirt, covering her bottom. She patted her through the skirt, and Beth gave a soft cry.

"Run along then."

And Beth ran, sobbing.

"Hey now!" Cherry caught hold of Beth as she turned the corner at the far end of the corridor. "Hey!" The larger girl wrapped her arms around Beth, and held her tearstained face to her shoulder. "Who's been upsetting my Pudding then?"

"F-Flick," Beth sobbed. "She beat me! With a -- a ruler!"

"That girl." Cherry shook her head, reaching out to open a classroom door.

"It really hurt!" Beth still couldn't believe what had happened, even with her burning ass cheeks as proof.

"I know. I know." Cherry led her into the darkened room and closed the door. With only the light from the corridor Beth could see dimly lit rows of desks and not much else.

"Why are we..."

Cherry sat on the nearest desk and pulled Beth into her lap, sideways on. "It's all good, Pudding." She cuddled Beth up like a baby.

After Flick's cruelty Beth found she just wanted to snuggle in Cherry's arms. She sniffed as Cherry wiped at her tears. "I must look terrible."

"You look sweet, Pudding." With one hand Cherry started to unbutton her own blouse.

"What are you--" Beth hitched in a breath, still half sobbing "--doing?" She wasn't sure what was happening, but she felt safe in Cherry's arms. Even Flick wouldn't dare try anything with Cherry. "Why are you--"

Without fuss Cherry tugged down the left cup of her white bra, spilling out a large brown breast, big enough to dwarf Beth's own ample D-cups. The girl lifted it in one hand, angling a prominent nipple towards Beth's mouth. Beth had admired Cherry's boobs every time they were in the showers together. She'd imagined sucking on those thick nipples so many times, both so dark as to almost be black.

Beth made an 'o' of her lips, and Cherry inserted her nipple. It was stiff and warm and big enough for Beth to suck like a thumb. Beth buried her face in the offered softness of Cherry's breast and sucked contentedly, a baby in the larger girl's arms.

For some time Cherry just cuddled her, and Beth suckled, growing calmer and more settled by the minute. Somehow it didn't even feel sexual -- more like Cherry really was breastfeeding her to quiet an upset infant.

That illusion lasted only until a large, warm hand slid up Beth's thigh, under her skirt, and discovered her lack of panties.

"You're soaking, Pudding."

Beth nodded without letting Cherry's nipple escape her mouth.

Cherry stroked Beth's wet pussy, and Beth moaned past her mouthful. She hadn't liked being gagged with a rubber ball, but Cherry's breast was so much nicer in the role.

Cherry ran two fingers along Beth's slit then brought them up to her own mouth to lick. "You still taste like pudding..."

She returned her hand to Beth's pussy and Beth spread her thighs while sucking harder on Cherry's breast.

Cherry slowly and gently inserted two fingers into Beth, about as deep as the first knuckle. Beth's pussy clutched at them. It was only the second time she'd had a girl's fingers inside her, and Cherry's were larger than Cousin Caroline's. Cherry withdrew them with an audible slurp and sucked Beth's juices off them.

She repeated the action, once, twice, three times, on each occasion sinking her fingers a little deeper, making Beth pant and moan.

"I do like me some pudding..." Cherry sucked yet another coating of pussy juice from her fingers.

This time Cherry hooked both fingers into Beth with a firmness that made her gasp and let the wet nipple slip from her mouth. Cherry began to tug at Beth's pussy with the hook of her fingers buried deep inside her. Cherry's hand on against Beth's pubic mound, Beth's fur hard against her palm. She masturbated Beth with short, rapid tugs.

Beth's still cradled in Cherry's lap and with the girl's glistening nipple almost at her lips, felt an incredible warmth and excitement spreading from her vagina, wrapping her thighs and groin in a kind of slow fire.