The Academy Ch 01 6

Author's note:

1) This is a non-con story, so if you don't like such things, don't read on.

2) This story is a complete fantasy, and being a non-con story should never be more than a fantasy.

3) I'm not American and neither are (most) of my characters, which means you might see some words spelt differently like... well... spelt.

I was never cut out to be a nun. It wasn't actually anyone's intentions that I would be so. Mummy died when I was only four. Daddy was rich as fuck and spent his time flying from country to country working with people in high places. When I was little, I stayed home with nannies and tutors and such like. I had the rule of the house really, and am ashamed to remember I was not the most attentive student. But then Daddy's new girlfriend became his wife, and my stepmother didn't want me around the house spoiling things so I was sent off to a convent school.

I could tell you more about my time there, but that's not the subject of this missive so I'll keep it brief. Due to my unorthodox early education, I was behind when I arrived at the school, and despite turning my ways around and becoming most studious, I turned eighteen shortly after I began my final year.

My world was turned upside down when Daddy died weeks before I graduated.

Not because I was devastated to lose my father who I'd hardly known. But it caused a dramatic change in circumstances. Daddy's money was left to his wife and the children they had together. I, now legally an adult, was locked out. I'm sure it wasn't his wishes to leave me with nothing, that was all her doing. But done was done.

So here I was, only 18, not a penny to my name, just graduated with no life experience having been locked away in a convent most of my life and no real prospects because like I said, I was never cut out to be a nun.

The convent was good to me. They didn't kick me straight to the kerb. They allowed me to stay on for a bit, trading work for board, but they couldn't provide any real help. A series of events saw me back at my stepmother's begging for help and that's how I ended up at The Academy.

I had no idea what awaited me at The Academy. My stepmother lied to me. I learnt later she'd sold me to the academy for quite a hefty sum. In those days they had the strength to hold me there against my will, so it was common for girls to not know what they'd gotten into. These day's it's different, as you know, and I hope my letter will help you understand what the academy is like, but also appreciate the amazing transformation which you'll undertake and appreciate the opportunities it brings to you.

While my story is, at times, hard to read, I regret nothing that was done to me and nothing which happened to me. More than that, I am thankful it happened.

I had no idea all those years ago what a favour my wicked stepmother was doing me.

While I'd been tricked into going there, I wasn't stupid. I knew something was off soon after waking on the first morning. I'd arrived late the night before and hadn't observed much before collapsing into bed in exhaustion. I awoke in my little dorm room to find my bag, and all my things, gone. A brief, furious search of the small room and en suite found nothing except a single package wrapped up in brown paper and tied with string. There was a note reading:

"This is your uniform for today. Put it on and ring the bell by the door once dressed." I looked to the door and beside it saw what looked like a doorbell set in the wall.

The "uniform" well... Remember first I was a naive virgin raised, for the most part, by nuns. You can imagine my face when I unpacked:

A very short black skirt

A black crop top

A Lacey, skimpy red bra with matching... well, whatever they were meant to be, there hardly enough of them to be called "knickers."

Red stiletto high-heeled shoes

Nothing else.

I rang the bell.

The door was answered by an older lady. She did not look impressed when she saw me still in my pyjamas.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked. "What are those?" I nodded at the 'uniform'

"It's your uniform. You will put it on immediately. This is your last chance to put it on before you will regret not doing so. Either way, you'll wear it eventually."

"No, I won't. I'm leaving. Where are my things?"

Her expression did not change.

"James!" She called out. A burly man appeared behind her; he must have been waiting in the corridor. I was a little embarrassed at him seeing me in my pyjamas, but they were much more decent than the "uniform." I didn't have long to think on that subject though. James took a few steps forward, spun me around and threw me, face down, on the bed. I was bent over, my feet still on the floor, arse in the air. Before I could register my new position the woman had approached and while James held me down, she pulled down my pyjama bottoms and pants. Now I started struggling. I think I screamed.

"Stop fussing girl. Ten strokes." And with her cane she delivered ten sharp strokes to my backside.

"You can't do this! You bitch!" That earned me another ten.

"Turn her over." She instructed. James spun me onto my back and I immediately tried to cover myself. "Hrumph." She said. "Well, aren't you au naturel?" She nodded to what I was trying to hide beneath my hands. In those days I was so innocent of the world that I had never heard of women shaving their bush before, so I didn't get her meaning. "Strip her." She said to James.

"Please!" I tried to stop him from removing my pyjama top. "I think there's been a mistake! You must let me go!"

"Oh, the mistake is yours," the woman said cooly. "And you're not leaving, you think others before you haven't tried to escape? No one succeeds."

"Others? What is this place?"

"The Academy."

"Academy..."

"You'll learn later. Come." She turned and left the room. I followed-- I had no choice. James marched me out, stark naked, holding my hands behind my back to avoid me covering myself.

There were others. In the corridors I passed girls my own age or a little older, none looked older than mid-twenties and they were all wearing a "uniform" similar to what I'd refused. I couldn't look them in the eyes, so I focused on their feet and saw that my heels had been modest in height compared to some of the heels the other girls were wearing. There were older people too. Not old old, but perhaps forties or fifties. So old to me at the time. Some men in suits, some women dressed far more modestly than the young people, and some men who looked to be guards of some sort, with fearsome-looking tools at their belts. Batons? Tasers? What was this place?

I was marched into what looked like part classroom, part beauty salon, behind a group of maybe ten others.

"Take your seats," the lady said to the others.

There was a murmur of "Yes Mrs Duckworth," from the girls as they rushed to their seats. There was a woman at the front of the classroom who I assumed was the teacher. She was tall, slender, her fair hair pulled up in a soft, attractive bun and she wore perhaps a little too much make-up for this early in the day.

"Well, who do we have here Mrs Duckworth?" She asked.

"This is Kassandra," the woman, whom I now knew was named Mrs Duckworth, answered. "She thought it fit to attend her first day at The Academy looking, like, well, this." She gestured vaguely at my body.

"Well, never mind, that can be fixed," The woman answered.

"She may be a little reluctant," Mrs Duckworth said.

"Well, aren't they all at first? James, lie her down here," the woman directed James to a beauty bed. James marched me over and pushed me down. In a trice, there were restraints at my hands.

"Hey!" I protested. James started to spread my legs apart and the woman clapped restraints on my ankles and just above my knees, removing any chance of struggle, let alone escape.

Then they waxed me.

I'd never waxed before. My beauty regime had always been rather simplistic. I'd shave my legs, beneath my knee only, my pits, and I'd pluck my eyebrows somewhat haphazardly, just when I could be bothered. But the lady, whose name I gathered was Mrs Lane, had exacting standards when it came to body hair. She gathered the class around and made a lesson of it. My legs, pits, arms, everything was waxed. Including everything... down there. All my pubic hair was trimmed and then waxed off. She found hair in places I didn't even realise I had hair. My eyebrows were plucked, she did one and a student had to do the other to match.

Finally, they were done. I felt raw. I was released, but James kept a firm grip of me and I was marched out of the room again, down the hall and into a shower room. Where I was scrubbed. It would have been humiliating, if I hadn't already been so humiliated I felt numb to it. The shower was turned off and Mrs Duckworth dried me. The door opened and a man entered. He was medium height, grey and balding, and rather overweight.

"Headmaster," Mrs Duckworth greeted him.

"I came to see the latest acquisition. My, she is pretty, isn't she? And a virgin?" This last question he directed to me. A--A virgin? The question struck fear in me. I was, but what did he want to know that for? I tried to assess everything which was happening logically, but I couldn't. My mind felt like your ear feels when you hold a seashell to it. Thoughts weren't quite sticking long enough for them to be of any use. "Well?" I managed a nod. "Well come on then."

Once again I was marched out, down another hallway and into yet another room, I managed to read the plaque on the door as we entered and it read HEADMASTER'S OFFICE. Nothing was making sense.

"Kneel," the headmaster ordered me. Kneel? A wild thought entered my head that they would decapitate me. Senseless, but everything else was. Despite this, I sank to my knees in front of the headmaster. Or James may have pushed me down. It's hard to remember with all the wild buzzing which was in my head. Then I heard the swish of a belt being loosened, and the sound of a zip being unzipped. My head shot up and my eyes came face to face with the headmaster easing his cock out of his trousers. I screamed and tried to twist away, but James held me firm.

"Suck it," the headmaster said. I shook my head, but Mrs Duckworth grabbed my head and held it still. The headmaster guided his cock to my lips and said again "suck it."

"No!" I begged, but in the act of speaking my mouth opened and the headmaster took the opportunity to push his vial organ into my mouth. I could bite it, I knew I could, but I was frightened for what might happen if I did.

"I said suck it, do your best work, slut." Other than the decision not to bite it, I didn't know what to do. There was this slightly salty-tasting member in my mouth, and I had no desire to suck it or do anything but spit it out, which I couldn't. I couldn't turn my head, I couldn't speak. So I just knelt there, with the tip of his cock lying in my limp mouth while tears ran down my cheeks. He signed and started thrusting his hips back and forth. I started to gag and he pulled it out. I gasped for air, though I'd not particularity been denied of air.

"Please..." I begged when my breathing had somewhat stabilised.

"Don't tell me you've never had a cock in your mouth?" he asked me.

"N--never," I admitted.

"Lie her on the desk, on her back." The order was directed at James.

"Please..." I begged. Terrified. But my pleading did no good. I was laid on his desk, and just like I had been on the beauty bed my legs were spread and my arms and legs were restrained.

"Check her cunt," The headmaster said.

"Very well, but remember it's mostly inconclusive," Mrs Duckworth said. "Absence, or even presence, of the hymen is no reliable indicator-- "

"Yes yes, I'm not here for an anatomy lesson Mrs Duckworth. Mr Sòng paid a pretty penny for her, and the presence of one is a factor in her worth on the market." They were checking if I was a virgin? And my worth? What market? And who was Mr Song? My thoughts were drawn to to more immediate matter of Mrs Duckworth prying apart the lips of my pussy. I shrank from her touch, but she persisted and a short time later she straightened up.

"Hymen present," she said.

"Good," the headmaster said. "Tell me, Kassandra, what have you done, sexually?" he ran a finger across my naked breast. "A man ever touched you here?" I shrank from his touch. "Oh, look, your nipples are getting hard already. Well? Tell me. What have you done?"

"N--nothing. I mean, I've kissed... and a little touching... but nothing below the belt." I hadn't had the opportunity. Now I wished I had. I was a virgin by circumstances, but if only my circumstances had given me some sexual adventure already. That my first had been on one of my rare escapades to the pub on our fieldtrip to Norway, a drunken fumble outside in the ally with a cute guy who had chatted me up and kept in touch afterwards, even though it didn't work out. Or even with some tosser who was just out on the pull with no intentions beyond a quick shag. Anything. Anything other than this.

"And you, have you touched yourself? Masturbated? Taken pleasure in your own touch?" Well, hasn't everyone?

"Yes." All the same I felt the heat rising to my face.

"You've had an orgasm?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let's see." Something cool and firm was pressed into my pussy, and I tried to sit up, but couldn't from the restraints. What was it? Was it someone else's cock about to invade me? But it started buzzing and I realised that the headmaster held a vibrator in one hand and was guiding it to my clit while he continued to play with my nipples with his other hand.

The vibrations started low, but slowly increased. Seven times eight was fifty-six, and fifty-six times two was, well, six times two was twelve and fifty-- oh God... The increasing pleasure I was feeling took over my mind games of multiplication to try and stop it.

"Yes, that's it Kassandra, good girl. Cum for me," the headmaster said. I noticed He'd stopped playing with my nipples and turned my head. His free hand was now massaging his cock, which was bigger and harder than when he'd stuck it in my mouth. Tied up though I was, restrained and powerless, I somehow felt a strange power over him. My body was responsible for his arousal, for his pleasure. In some strange, twisted way it was kind of a turn on I could have that impact. A little thrill ran through me and I turned my head away from him, disgusted with both him and my own thoughts. But the vibrator was still there, sending little rivers of pleasure coursing through my body. And they were unrelenting. My breathing became uneven and then--

"Oh, GOD!" I cried out, feeling my voice crack as my orgasm rushed over me. Immediately the headmaster removed the vibrator and placed it on the table while my clit was still quivering and begging for more. "No..." was out of my lips before I could check it.

"Oh, you enjoyed that," he said. I had no reply, I was too ashamed. I heard a buzz and thought it was the vibrator starting up again, but the headmaster pulled a phone out of his pocket. "That's Mr Sòng," he said. "I'll take this in the other room, keep her there." He left. I lay there in silence. The thought of begging Mrs Duckworth, appealing to her woman to woman flitted through my head but the thought was gone as soon as it arrived. She was complicit in this. It would be useless.

The headmaster returned.

"Turn her over onto her stomach," he ordered. Oh, he was going to whip me? Or spank me?

"What did Mr Sòng say?" Mrs Duckworth asked as James undid the restraints.

"He was pleased with her performance," the headmaster said. Pleased? My performance? I frantically searched for a hidden camera, but before I had much chance James had flipped me onto my stomach and started restraining my hands. "He also said her pussy had to remain a virgin--" thank God "--but I could fuck her arse if I wanted. He's got another concoction of his he wants me to try on her after."

"Boys and their toys!" Mrs Duckworth said with a laugh. My arse, he was going to... I couldn't even think about it. My legs were spread again, wider this time, and my arse was lined up with the edge of the desk. Already my thighs were aching from the over-spread position, but I had bigger things to worry about.

"Wait outside," the headmaster said after I was fully restrained. Mrs Duckworth and James left while I began sobbing uncontrollably. Something slippery and cool was rubbed over my arsehole -- lubricant. "Now now, it won't be all bad." He picked up the vibrator and slid it underneath me, resting it on my still throbbing clit before starting it again. Waves of pleasure began washing over me, then the pain started. He grunted as he grabbed my hips and pushed his cock against my arsehole. I felt a growing pressure then there was almost pop as the head pushed past and through. The ring of my arsehole was on fire. I thought it couldn't get any worse, but it did.

Because after a while, when his cock was inside and able to move back and forth more freely, he was able to really start fucking me. There was still pain, but the feeling of his cock deep in my arsehole, going in and out was... somewhat arousing. Okay, more than somewhat. I burned anew with shame at the pleasure I felt. Combined with the vibrator on my clit I was worried I wouldn't be able to hold off from having another orgasm, and I did not want to give the headmaster that satisfaction.

"Oh, so fucking tight," he murmured, not for the first time. "And you like this, slut, don't you? Don't deny it, I can feel you liking it. You know what you're good for, say it."

"No..." I moaned. "Oh God, oh fucking God, no..." No more to be suppressed, my second orgasm washed over me with great force. I heard the headmaster cheer when my arsehole clenched tighter around his cock with my spasms, and he fucked me harder. Pain, pleasure, humiliation. It wasn't long before he came.

I felt him pull his cock out of my arse and something warm trickled out of me. His cum? Blood? Could be either, or both. There were some movements behind me where I assume he cleaned himself up, and after a bit the feel of a wet cloth on my ass as he cleaned up whatever mess he'd made there.

"Now Kassandra, I'm going to put some cream on you." The cream felt cool and at first, I flinched at its touch on my battered hole, but soon it felt soothing. "This cream should heal you back to new again."

"Should?"

"Well, it's a trial. You're the first subject of the latest formula. But its creator seems pretty sure of it this time." So now they were doing medicine trials on me? What was I?

The headmaster called Mrs Duckworth and James back into the office. He asked Mrs Duckworth to hold my arse cheeks apart before taking a close-up picture of my anus with his mobile phone. He then motioned to James to release me.

"Well Kassandra," the headmaster said. "Would you prefer to spend the rest of the day as you are, or would you prefer to put on your uniform?" Mrs Duckworth placed a small pile of clothes in front of me. I opted for the uniform, of course. I just tried to not look at Mrs Duckworth's smug face as I did so.