(All characters over 18. Fetish content for an adult audience; read at own discretion)
- 1 -
When many young women came of age physically, they typically retained an inexperienced naïvety of those who were ignorant of their real purpose, and for that they needed to be educated.
This took place in special schools designed to guide the girls towards sexual maturity. Old, prejudiced ideas, such as a woman needed to cover her private parts in the presence of men and other women, were to be corrected; instead, one was to make herself readily available, at any moment and at anyone's request.
In such a school, the girls would be placed down in the cellar, in small cell-like rooms that would be rotated on a weekly basis. Each was fashioned only with two plain bunk beds and nothing else. No closet, drawer, or any form of personal possession in fact: a new set of uniform, the slutty design of which changed from day to day, was handed out every morning during their breakfast.
The beds themselves were narrow and short, that the taller girls' feet would stick out at the other end when lying straight, so they resolved to curl up tight during the night, like infants. The mattress, in turn, was hard and unpleasant, and the slightest movement in the upper deck would produce an unbearable creaky noise from the frame. The room's white barren walls were not far apart, so that the two girls on either side could join each other's hands from their beds.
But the girls could not touch, to speak, or even gesture to each other at night. Only silence and rest were allowed after every door had been locked by the custodian. If caught, one was punished by harsh flogging with a wooden stick at fleshy places where a woman could take the most pain without being seriously hurt, such as in her buttock and thighs. If one happened to have sizable tits then those were also targeted, though with far lighter force.
In fact, the girls were regularly flogged in the middle of the night, with no apparent reason but as a prescription for their health, for the pain was said to help their two adjacent orifices in the crotch stay tight after a day's rigorous training. The rooms had no toilet inside, and one needed to go down the hallway to use the communal bathroom. The girls had since learned to use it before the custodian came to turn off the lights and lock their doors until dawn.
- 2 -
Not long after their room was locked, Claire realized that she had made a mistake, that she did not go to the bathroom when she should have. She sensed that she would soon suffer the consequence for being so lazy, though she still didn't know just had bad her night would go.
That day the class was introduced to a new form of exercise, which was more complicated than any they had seen before. The coach chose Claire and three older boys for a demonstration. The boys were known bullies and took the opportunity to abuse Claire badly in front of everyone. No one dared to intervene, for it was exactly what the coach wanted: she was one of those stubborn, self-important girls who refused to recognize their place in this new order, and thus needed to be taught a lesson.
That cruel lesson almost broke her sexually, but worse was the public humiliation of her forced climax, not once, nor twice, but three times in total. What a slut! She heard the other girls commenting on her excellent performance with such scorn and jealousy. But this was not who she was! Before coming here she was a quiet homegirl from a respectable family. Apparently, her civil behavior and reserved character were mistaken for aloofness and even an inclination for rebellion.
When the day drew to a close Claire skipped supper and went back to the dorm, to her bed in the right upper deck, where alone she trembled and wept. The other three girls were kind not to disturb her when they returned later. Time passed quickly in an oblivion; when she finally felt recovered from her melancholy, the custodian had left, and the iron door to the outside world was sealed with a ruthless impenetrability. An acute hunger gripped her stomach, but a more urgent issue, which soon came to Claire, was an abundant feeling in her bladder.
The night was still young. She laid on her bed listening to her roommates' soft breathing. Everyone was exhausted and fast asleep, except her. An unbearable hour or two passed; she knew not precisely. Through the little cellar window Claire could see the moon in its pale crescent slowly rising. Meanwhile the situation with her bladder was slowly getting desperate.
There was no container of any sort in the room. She thought about the wicked idea of relieving right in her own sheet, but the odor would sure awake her roommates (which she would feel sorry for but didn't really worry about), and the crime discovered by the terrifying custodian. For such transgression she would be disciplined in the most severe form: to be bound and gaged and left in the innermost shower stall in the mens' bathroom upstairs, for an entire day and night, all without any safeguarding or supervision. Claire quivered at such an image. But time flew away mercilessly and her lower abdomen began to hurt as she tried to restrain herself.
Suddenly there was walking of heavy boots from the hallway, and Claire's heart was seized by an unspeakable terror. For it was none but the custodian. What else could he be doing in the girls' dorm at this hour, other than to wipe and flog them? She held her breath and listened: it got closer and closer. Please, please move on, she begged God. Let it not be us tonight. For a moment it seemed like the custodian was moving further away, but with an abruptness the steps he turned back and retracted, one step by another, until he was in front of her door. She heard him unlocking and almost gasped. The inevitable had come.
The light was turned on, and the others slowly awoke to the terror as well. They opened their eyes to see the custodian, a tall and weathered figure in his fifties with a quite hideous appearance, standing next to their steel beds and holding a wooden stick in his right hand. The girls' eyes were almost instantly filled with tears and in an expression as if to ask: why, or rather, why so soon? The custodian, in turn, never gave any other reason than that "it's been your turn."
They all knew how this worked. The girls quickly got out of their warm beds and went to kneel by the lower deck on the left side (it had always been the left side so the custodian could rightly exert force with his right hand); together they laid their stomachs on the bed and pulled their nightgowns up above their waists, so that their petite buttocks, like full moons, rose up in their silver roundness. With some difficulty, clenching her thighs somewhat, Claire carefully balanced herself through each step down the cold ladder. She was the last to lay down by her roommates, and this the custodian duly took notice.
The flogging began from the left. Claire could hear the hissing in the air as the custodian wielded the long stick down on that unfortunate girl. The four were kneeling so close to each other that each trembling spasm of one could be felt by the other three, as if the beating was on their bodies too. The cries were muffled, broken from induced hyperventilation. It was the meaninglessly violent delight that their torturer enjoyed the most, as he marked their fair bottom with one after another red swollen welt, which, by the time he finished with all four of them, would have condensed in a fine dark purple.
The last hit was administered; it was clear that the girl beside Claire could take no more tonight. Claire knew her turn had come, and prepared herself, though she knew it was in vain, for her bladder was so full and stretched that it began to hurt. Still, she tensed up her rear and concentrated all of her attention on a little rusted nail in the wall she was facing. This method had delivered before for her to lessen the pain and there was nothing else at hand which she could rely on. The custodian moved behind Claire but did not hit her immediately, perhaps taking a break from all the hard work.
She ground her teeth and waited for the blow. It did not occur within her estimate. The momentum was slipping by, and her muscles were starting to cramp. For a moment Claire's mind went astray and wandered elsewhere, to the other three girls beside her - yearning, coping, turning, struggling. They were masturbating each other, one's hands sandwiched tight between another's loins, busy stimulating the blindspots. What lewdness! Claire found herself glancing at them, drawn to that perverse energy.
Then without warning, the first blow came, and it landed scarcely above where her sex was. Claire felt an instant electric shock ran through her whole torso and limbs, and her entire defense was breached in one hit. The shameful liquid she had been holding for so long was immediately let free and started to drip out, but before there was enough time for it to form a stream, the second blow came, as hard as the first, and Claire's involuntary act of wetting herself was forcefully interrupted. Her body coiled up in pain and was about to collapse onto the cold floor.
By now the custodian must have realized what a surprise the girl had prepared for him, as he suddenly held her in place and started beating Claire in a relentless and brazen manner, each blow harder than the one before, leaving her no respite to clear the waste water out of her long-burdened system. In pitifully small outbursts they came out, one immediately suppressed by an excruciating blow on the rear, which resulted in yet another despaired eruption from between her legs. Her continued failure to properly relieve herself was almost comical to a bystander.
Claire thought she was dying; her mind became a murmuring chaos as her pelvic muscles went through timeless rapid contraction. With each blow so close to her sensitive womanhood, she had unknowingly entered the long, wet slide down to a total orgasm. She started to moan like a street whore in heat. The custodian finally stopped and let her finish in a most violent discharge of urine and other female ejaculations. When it was done, her yellow pee ran down past the other girls' feet to form a little pool at the door. Their cell was ruined! Claire knew she could not escape any punishment now.
"Do you know what you have done?" The custodian asked.
She nodded timidly.
"Then you know what awaits you tomorrow."
Claire was silent, still kneeling and facing the wall.
"Say it. What sort of punishment awaits you tomorrow?"
