Mares Tales 8

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Beverly's relationship intensifies with Veronica and Jennifer. However she is tricked into betraying her friends and suffers the consequences. This chapter also describes an interesting 'English' lesson at the school.

Categories: Bondage Femdom, Authoritarian Physically Forced or Blackmailed
Keywords: Bondage Chastity Belts School Girl

Mare's Tales - by: Beverly Taff

Chapter 8.

It was in this same position that Dorothy found us when she arrived to
dress us.

On finding us still asleep she leant silently over the end of our bed
and gently tickled the base of my penis. I stirred and twitched
luxuriously for I expected to find Vee or Jenny busy down there. I had
a shock however when I found Dorothy looming over me with a cunning
smile on her face and her finger to her lips cautioning me to be
silent. She motioned to me to lie perfectly still and not wake my
friends.

Silently she left the room. She returned in moments with a very strange
harness, some gags, a double-headed dildo and a small bottle and some
cloths. I recognised everything except the bottle but I realised that
it was obviously some drug or other. I trembled nervously in
anticipation of what she intended to do with it.

She opened the small bottle and poured a liberal dose onto one of the
cloths. She then held it under Jenny’s nose for about half a minute.
This done she repeated the same under Vee's nose and I felt both girls
settle heavily on my breasts as they dropped into a deep drugged sleep.
The fumes were also making me feel woozy and I had difficulty-obeying
Dorothy. Gently, she extricated my tender nipples from their mouths
and helped me out of the bed. I wobbled uncertainly as she sat me down
and returned to Jenny and Vee.

They both murmured drowsily but failed to wake up properly as Dorothy
prepared the harness. She made me lend a hand in lifting and turning
my friends as she skilfully slipped the various parts of the harness
around their supine delicious bodies. In their drugged condition they
must have thought of it as another bout of lovemaking because they
almost seemed to co-operate as the various straps were slipped around
their bodies and firmly attached. Finally, Dorothy motioned to me to
tighten the straps on my side as she did the same with hers. Our
actions served to pull my friends tight together so that their breasts
and vulvas ground against each other.

The double dildo was then carefully attached to Veronicas hips and then
gently inserted so that she became the ‘boy’ whilst Jenny was forced to
be the 'girl'. In their semiconscious state, my friends twitched with
desire as Dorothy then harnessed me. I was forced to watch as the drugs
wore off and the girls awoke to realise what was happening. They both
gave off squeals of protest as they struggled but their struggles
served only to agitate the double-headed dildo lodged deep in their
pussies. There protests were soon silenced by the administration of the
double gag, which forced their lips and tongues together.

Thus bound, with all their erogenous parts stimulating each other but
with their preferred rolls reversed, they were left to ponder their
fate. I shook my head helplessly as Dorothy led me from the room.

As she firmly towed me down the corridor by the collar and lead of the
harness I was hopelessly embarrassed by my helpless naked condition.
Fortunately no students passed and I was returned to my dormitory were
she spoke to me.

"Are those two taking advantage of you?" she asked.

"No Miss Dorothy."

I answered truthfully, for I had in fact enjoyed our troilism since
Veronica's return.

"Well they have been getting away with far too much for my liking. It
will destroy all discipline in the dormitory if there is any more of
it. Now you had better go and attend to your toilet before I finish
dressing you."

Her manner left no doubt that she was annoyed at the freedom that we
three had enjoyed. I presumed that Dorothy was unaware of the
indulgences that Miss Lane and Dr James had allowed me since my unique
anatomical condition had been discovered. Despite my harness, I was
wearing no other cloths so I managed to empty my bladder, which was
bursting for relief. I then managed to run a hot bath and add some
fragrant salts as I delicately dipped my toes in. I tried to sit down
but without my hands to support me I lost my balance and plopped down
with a splash at the last moment. Dorothy heard the splashing and
marched straight in. As a maid it was her right to walk in uninvited
and with my hands harnessed there was little I could have done about it
anyway.

She treated me like a naughty little girl as she lathered my body and
shampooed my hair. Her fingers gently probed and squeezed until they
finally lingered on my breasts as she soaped me down.

"You're rather large here, aren't you?"

I shuddered as she gently squeezed my nipples and I wondered what she
had in store for me. "What size cup are you now?"

"A thirty six ‘D’ Miss," I replied.

She continued rinsing me down and then ordered me to stand up. I obeyed
her and my crotch now came level with her eyes.

"And what size are we down here?" She grinned maliciously as she
reached out and gave me a sly pinch with her nails. I blushed and
fidgeted helplessly as she poked and prodded all the private parts of
my dual anatomy. It was obvious that my young body and all its
peculiarities were agitating her. Even though I stood frozen like a
statue and tried not to become aroused, her cunning ministrations
started to have their desired effect. My penis started to react and
rear up around the soft undercurve of my tummy. On achieving her aims
she frantically started to undress and then leaped upon me like a
spider with a fly.

I stumbled against the wall and nearly fell backwards into the bath but
she simply caught me and then lowered us both gently into the water.
Dorothy then simply mounted my organ and used my body to gratify her
own lust.

She was quite violent in taking her selfish pleasures and hurt me quite
considerably as she bounced and lunged upon my helplessly harnessed
body. My bum banged and bruised itself against the unforgiving enamel
of the bath and I had never felt so abused and insulted in my whole
life. As she reached her crescendo, I whimpered and cried in pain.

The very thing that dear Jenny had so faithfully protected me from with
all the older pupils had happened to me right inside our own inner
sanctum and furthermore, by one of the staff! I felt bitter at the
betrayal of trust but I was too terrified to report it. I had also
orgasmed during her abuse, which made feel confused and unclean. What
really galled though was that I had co-operated in my own humiliation
by helping to tie up my own friends and protectors. What an utter fool
I had been.

After having orgasmed, Dorothy gave a grunt of satisfaction and rose
dripping from the scented bath water. She grabbed a towel and casually
dried herself whilst totally ignoring me, as I lay weeping in the
water. I was helpless and unable to grip the slippy sides of the bath.
It was to be one more lesson for me on the road of my unusual life. As
she slid her knickers and tights on Dorothy stared down at me and
smiled. I glanced nervously up at her and couldn't make out if it was a
malicious or condescending smile.

She reached down and grabbed the back belt of my harness to help me up.
Fortunately my harness was made out of rainbow coloured nylon webbing
so the water did not ruin it. If it had been leather one it would have
become stiff and rubbed me raw as it dried out. It was to remain on me
though, and Dorothy proceeded to rub me down with another towel whilst
my hands remained fastened to my sides.

"Well my little pet. We'll have to dress you now. I've run up some
special new clothes for you and I’d like you to try them on. Come
along." She released the bindings on my hands and we left the bathroom,
me in a bathrobe and Dorothy dressed in her severe tight fitting maids
outfit. I had to admit that it really suited her but I felt angry with
myself for having noticed. I tried to inspect the new garments laid out
upon the bed but Dorothy simply spun me round and forced me to step
straight into my new corset. As she drew it up my legs it became
steadily tighter until it was stretched snugly between the cheeks of
my derriere and tightly up onto my crotch thus separating my gravid
rounded bottom. With a shock I realised that there was an added
sensation in the gusset and it was beginning to tickle my pussy lips.

Dorothy had made me an extra tight training corset with a stiff little
rubber clitty tickler secured into the crotch. As I drew breath to
protest, Dorothy anticipated my reaction and simply heaved tight upon
the corset laces and caught me with my waist and tummy at it's
smallest. I found myself imprisoned in this new corset. It also had
built in stiffeners like the old Victorian corsets and I found it
almost impossible to twist or bend as Dorothy continued with this new
torture.

"This isn't fair," I cried. "You know I've already got oversensitive
labia."

"There are lot's of things not fair in this world Beverly. This is just
one more lesson."

She adjusted the corset straps and my lovely breasts, of which I was
inordinately proud, were forced up and out like two huge melons
presented for inspection on a vegetable stall. A bra slip was then
slipped over my shoulders and clipped tightly at the back. It was a
fiendish garment; smooth as silk on the outside but with two little
ticklers on the insides of the cups designed to tantalise my nipples.
I let out a gasp of surprise as my rapidly stiffening nipples emerged
from the front of the cups encased in their stiff little frilly satin
caps.

Frilly suspenders were attached to the corset and some frilly-topped
stockings were then drawn up my legs. The moment they were clipped on,
they started to tickle my thighs unmercifully. A pair of extra frilly
knickers with very stiff lace cuffs was drawn up over my exposed bum
cheeks and these only served to tickle and caress my bum every time I
moved. A 'regulation' school dress was buttoned securely up my back and
my hands were re-secured through the slots in the clothes to my still
damp harness. The aroused state of my excited exaggerated nipples
showed lewdly underneath the dress. Finally, a pair of four-inch heels
completed my ensemble. My hair was then combed, brushed and set before
I was finally ready for the school day.

The morning was now fairly old and I had missed the first lessons. The
next lesson that day was English and this being Miss Lanes Academy, our
class was reading an erotic novel for analysis. It was really quite a
pornographic book and had already caused much comment and discussion
amongst us. Lessons were nothing if not interesting at Miss Lane’s
academy.

As I minced cautiously into the classroom, the atmosphere was electric.
Every pupil was agitated to some degree as they were individually
required to stand up and read a passage. Each reader would try to hide
their state of arousal as they reached a provocative part. They would
cross their legs or surreptitiously squeeze their loins against a desk
corner whilst the rest of the class fiddled secretively with their
clothes under the desks.

I made my apologies to the English mistress and presented Dorothy's
sealed note. She scanned it, smiled, and indicated my seat in the front
row. I secretly cursed. Whenever we had English every pupil made for
the rear seats. It gave us a chance to relieve ourselves if we were
doing a novel. The front seats were far too exposed and made it
virtually impossible to relieve our frustrations. My being late meant
that I had to take one of the only remaining empty seats in the front
row.

After the other girls had read several passages, I was getting
hopelessly horny. My nipples were tingling from the special bra whilst my poor vulva was sopping wet from the urgent stimulation of my sensitive lips by the tickler in my corset gusset. I tried to wriggle
about a bit but the stiff boned corset prevented any freedom or relief
for I couldn't twist or bend my back. As I sat at my desk the tickler
remained firmly lodged in my cleft and busily inveigled its stiff
little rubber tentacles into the various folds and creases of my vagina
lips.

The English mistress had begun to notice my extremely agitated
condition. And she gave a little smile as she caught my eye. After a
few more passages she ordered me to stand and read. I rose with beads
of perspiration gathering at my brow and started to read. The English
mistress knew her books. My passage was a particularly purple bit
touching sympathetically upon a young virgin's first romantic intimacy
and deflowering. Despite my fervent attempts to remain detached and
dispassionate about the book my body started to respond. My reading
became ragged and disjointed as I reacted to the script and my breath
came in shorter, more desperate pants. I tried to race to the end of
the chapter and when I got there I sat down with relief thinking that I
had survived the ordeal.

The English mistress shook her head. "That is simply not up to your
usual excellent standard Miss Beverly. I want you to repeat the passage
and this time with more feeling."

She gave a knowing little look around the class as she emphasised the
word 'feeling'. The class tittered and fidgeted restlessly as I
resignedly stood up to try the passage again. By this time my poor
cunny was flooding with juices. Droplets were now penetrating my
corset gusset and saturating my knickers as they escaped onto the
floor. My nipples ached as they stood out like frilled organ stops from
my bra. Paroxysms of pleasure fluttered around my breasts begging for
relief from my hands, which were still loosely secured to my harness
belt. I could hold my book to my waist but I could not reach my breasts
or cunny. My poor penis, still locked into his corset, was torturing me
with his attempts to become erect. As I held the book at my waist, I
peered down between my heaving cleavage and resumed reading.

I hadn't gone more than a few sentences before I became dizzy with lust
and collapsed into my desk. I drew stentorian breaths as my tortured
body wracked itself with a desperate orgasm. My breathing, which was
still restricted by the tight corset, became ragged and shallow and I
almost feinted from the plethora of uncontrollable sensations racing
through my worn out body. The mistress simply stepped from her desk and
checked me over before instructing two other pupils to help me recover
whilst another pupil was to continue reading.

I didn't remember much more of the lesson as my mind wandered and I
tried to get comfortable in my corset. My whole body itched from the
frills and ticklers in my corset, bra, knickers, suspenders and
stockings.

The whole class was relieved when the lesson ended and the bell went.
Nearly all the pupils had experienced some sort of orgasm or arousal.
It was a very subdued and introspective group that made its way to the
dinner hall. Several of the other pupils walked as slowly and gingerly
as I, and it was obvious that Dr James’s new surgical procedures had
been extended to them. We self-consciously gathered together into a
sympathetic and protective group as we compared notes and discussed the
various ‘punishments’ inside our corsets. I realised that I was not the
only one with a 'tickler' in my crotch.

Dorothy had also been very busy with her seamstress and corsetiere
skills amongst our year. We were all very wary and circumspect as we
delicately minced into the dining hall and gently sat down to lunch.

As a group, we were beginning to realise why our year, with the onset
of puberty controlled by hormones, always looked so harassed and
haggard as they nervously went about their studies and lessons. We
realised now, why the older girls behaved in such a condescending and
all-knowing manner. At Miss Lanes, the careful administration of
hormones ensured that the whole class’s puberty coincided with the
introduction to all the pleasures of transvestism and transexuality and
femininity. Boys and girls all grew up together.

As we sat at the table, one of the seniors was instructed to release
our hands for eating. After all the action during the morning and after
missing breakfast, I wolfed down my lunch as fast as delicacy and the
strict table manners of the academy would allow. I was ravenous.

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Comments

I understand.

I most certainly understand, believe me. I well know where the conditions that come to this sort of mind set happen, and who produces them. Those who are charged with nurturing and protecting us are at times our worst enemies and abusers.

Though I am an extremely devout and faithful Muslim woman, I have the sorts of feelings that connect abuse with pleasure and I used to feel quite some shame about the fact. These days most of my dragons and daemons have proven to have much less power than I had once feared.

I hope there are a few here who are capable of deep understanding of the etiology of such psychology.

I do hope that the victims of these daemonic women eventually wend themselves free of those witches. It would be sad to see the victims become attached to the abusers as is sometimes the case. It is a form of the "Stockholm Syndrome" not understood by the masses.

Gwen