Sarah Porter's Schooldays

Chapter 21. In which Sarah has her first detention

 

The door to room 17 opened smoothly and without sound. Sarah had been expecting the loud metallic squeaking similar to the door of the holding cell, obviously this door was better maintained. She began to shiver, the corridor was as warm as always, the anxiety and fear had finally overcome her. All day it had been building but as long as she had her lessons to distract her she had managed to stave off the terrible feeling. She could hide from it no longer.

 

She was facing down the corridor so she could not see into the room, her eyes focused forward as they should be. She watched as her handler stepped into the room and spoke softly to someone inside. Sarah swallowed nervously as the muted mumbling from the room continued. The terrified schoolgirl stood motionless in the empty hallway, wanting desperately to enter the room and have her detention over with. She knew it would not be pleasant, after all it had, by design, to be worse than the caning received from infractions, but the waiting was interminable.

 

"Enter," called Miss Harper.

 

Sarah was startled by the loud noise. How easily she was losing focus. If there was ever a time for her to remain clearheaded and focused the next hour was it. She turned and marched into room 17, the site of her first detention. The first thing she noticed was the headmistress Mrs Huffington Smythe standing directly in front of her.

 

Sarah was shocked and almost stopped on the threshold at the sight of the headmistress. The imposing woman was dressed head to toe in a skintight latex suit, its smooth black surface shining under the bright lights of the room. Sarah's fear increased tenfold as she realised the stern headmistress was not only conducting her detention but it appeared as if she was outfitted for perversion. She moved into the room, stepping hesitantly until she stood directly in front of the headmistress. Mrs Huffington Smythe was not as tall or imposing as Miss Watson but she frightened Sarah immeasurably more. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate bun and as the trembling  schoolgirl looked upon her she realised the only parts of the headmistress not covered in black latex was her head and long graceful fingers.

 

"You may leave us Harper. Return at the appointed time and you can escort your charge to her remaining appointments," the headmistress spoke, in the same imperious voice Sarah remembered from her first moments at Harkwood.

 

Harper curtsied politely and left the room, leaving Sarah alone with the imposing woman. The frightened schoolgirl jumped as the heavy door clanged shut behind her. Sarah stood as if a statue, watching her headmistress, waiting for a sign of what was to come. Minute after minute passed as Sarah stared into the eyes of her headmistress, her unease growing with every passing moment. The headmistress stood as still as Sarah, her stentorian face betraying no signs of emotion. After what seemed an eternity for the young girl, the silence was broken.

 

"Undress. Place your uniform by the door," the headmistress commanded coldly.

 

Sarah hurried back to the door, where she found a familiar cloth bag hanging from a hook in the wall. In this room however the hook was set well up the wall, causing Sarah to stretch to full extension to place her clothes within it. She kept her head, despite the constant ripples of fear that shuddered through her body, and undressed quickly but sensuously. She was soon naked but for her collar and the painfully tight leather belt that was still around her waist.

 

"Attention little bitch," bellowed the headmistress. "Hands clasping elbows."

 

Sarah quickly marched back to the headmistress and instantly adopted the position demanded. As soon as she was in position Mrs Huffington Smythe moved behind her. As she had undressed, Sarah had taken the chance to inspect the rest of room 17. The entire room seemed to be part of some unfinished basement of the school. Bare brickwork covered all four walls and the ceiling was a gridwork of thick rough-cut wooden beams. The floor was concrete, rough and cold beneath her bare feet.

 

The wall that contained the door was covered in apparatus hanging from hooks spaced randomly throughout the thick brickwork: lengths of rope, looped into neat bundles, whips, floggers, chains and a vast array of items which Sarah could not identify. It reminded her of the supply room attached to each classroom. The rest of the room seemed to be completely empty.

 

Sarah heard the headmistress approach her from behind and felt a loop of rough rope encircle her arms. Over the next few minutes the young girl's arms were almost cocooned in the rough rope. She felt a number of tugs on the painful belt around her waist and realised that her arms were now secured to thick leather strap. As the headmistress went back to the wall of equipment Sarah surreptitiously tested her bonds. She could wriggle her fingers and move her arms slightly to each side, though even this small movement caused painful stabs in her belly as the belt constricted the soft flesh further.

 

"Squat."

 

Sarah obeyed, lowering her body to the floor and spreading her legs wide. The headmistress moved in front of the trembling girl, allowing Sarah a clear view of the next piece of equipment that would be used to torture her. She could not quite make out what the item was. It looked a little like a bulldog clip used to hold files of paper together, but the top was much thicker. Sarah's previous lesson with Miss Rice had given her the experience to allow her imagination to work. She may not know exactly what the item was but she knew exactly where it was going.

 

Sarah kept head up and her eyes forward as her headmistress bent down and pinched her soft labia. The anxious schoolgirl was ready for it and barely winced. Her pussylips were pulled away from her body and down towards the floor. It was only mildly painful, unable to eclipse the pain caused by the belt as it dug into her waist and hips as she squatted. Mrs Huffington Smythe reached in with her other hand and placed the clamp over Sarah's pussylips, the teeth of the clamp opened wide. The headmistress used one hand to guide Sarah's tender lips into the opened clamp before closing it gently, being sure to capture as much flesh as was possible.

 

Sarah squealed as the clamp closed, pinching her pussylips, sending a spike of agony into the tender flesh between her legs, easily blotting the pain in her waist from her mind. She jerked upright slightly, though quickly moved back into position, once the initial sharp spike of agony subsided. The pain in her pussy continued to increase, building with each moment. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as soft mewling sounds continued to fill the room.

 

"Silence cunt," bellowed the headmistress. "Attention!"

 

Sarah sprung upright, thankful at least that the pain from the belt was to be lessened. The agony radiating from her pussy was worse than anything she had ever experienced. It was not like the sharp, intense pain of a cane stroke, it was a constant buildup like the pegs she had on her nipples multiplied exponentially. This was what her detentions were to be like. And she had another scheduled for tomorrow. She told herself to calm down and focus, she had barely begun this detention. A loud clatter from behind her startled the terrified teenager.

 

"Porter, 97817402. Detention one, second day of term. Breaking rules and records. Before we begin do you wish to make a statement?"

 

Sarah was a little unsure of what to say. Should she say nothing, after all who cared what a slut had to say, or should she attempt an apology for requiring the headmistress to be here, after class, conducting this detention?

 

"No Ma'am," Sarah replied meekly, deciding the less she said the better. Her words had come out as a strangled croak as it was, the pain in her pussy still affecting her deeply.

"Well you precocious little prig, you are here because your behaviour has been most deplorable. Indeed your lack of obedience and overt displays of disrespect and rebellion are the worst this establishment has ever seen. In fact, a detention has not been required for a Trinity student earlier than eight days in the entire history of this establishment."

 

Sarah could not believe what she was hearing. The nearest any other girl had come to incurring the number of infractions she had taken four time as long. What was wrong with her? How had this happened? She had been doing her very best.

 

"Not only have you earned one detention in the first week, but you have already earned a second and you are four infractions from a third. Every few years we see a little bitch like you come to us. We do not lament your presence. On the contrary, we rejoice when one such as you enrols. You are a shining example of why we exist. Why, in today's society, even the sluts with strongly developed instincts require such intensive training to realise their potential.

 

"Over the next forty-five minutes you will work to demonstrate that you are a slut willing to learn, willing to obey, willing to serve. In this bucket there are 50 weights."

 

As she finished speaking the headmistress, upturned the bucket letting the metal weights fall to the floor in a deafening crash that echoed around the bare room. The small metal objects varied in size and shape but they were all a dull grey in colour. Sarah watched as the headmistress proceeded to kick those pieces that had fallen in a heap at her feet, scattering them to all four corners of the room.

 

"In the far corner is a stand, place it in the centre of the room."

 

Sarah looked into each corner, spotting the wooden stand to which the headmistress referred. Sarah walked gingerly towards it. Her walk look somewhat comical as she tried to move with grace without her thighs catching on the devilish clamp between her legs. She ended up looking as if she were a prancing pony in a dressage competition. When she reached the corner she stared at the wooden apparatus, wondering how she was supposed to move it with her arms tied securely behind her back. The T-shaped stand consisted of a thick, square wooden crossbeam that stood almost at Sarah's hip height. It was attached to another square post linking the crossbeam to a thick wooden cross that formed the stable base of the stand. She squeezed her body in between the stand and the wall and pushed with all her might against the wooden beam that rested against her upper thigh.

 

The heavy wooden stand moved, but just barely. With each push Sarah managed to move the stand a few inches closer to the middle of the room. With each push, fresh stabs of agony shot through her tightly clamped pussy. Sarah's body was soon covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she struggled to situate the stand as quickly as possible. The naked schoolgirl was desperate to have the activity of the detention to begin as she knew she was on a time limit, and the mere thought of failing a task set in a detention caused her to tremble anew.

 

"Cease," Miss Huffington Smythe snapped once Sarah had the stand in the middle of the room. "You wasted a substantial amount of time slut. You now have only 39 minutes to complete your task. Attached to the clamp on your cuntlips is a magnet. You will use this magnet to collect all 50 of the weights. Once you have collected a weight with your cunt you deposit it on the stand. In the middle of the stand is a companion clamp. You open this by standing on the pads on the base, position the weight in the clamp, release and step away. Begin."

 

Sarah had stood at attention, listening incredulously to the headmistress explain her task. She knew she now had less than 39 minutes to collect 50 weights and she wasted no time in squatting down to collect the first. There was a cluster of three of the small pieces of metal only two steps to her left. Sarah moved hurriedly to the weighs, positioning her pussy directly over the metal shards and squatted. As soon as her pussy hovered an inch above the first piece it sprang from the floor, jumping the final inch of distance, latching firmly to the clamp that squeezed her pussylips together.

 

Sarah grunted in pain at the connection, unsure if was the extra weight pulling her pussylips out from her body or simply the movement of the wicked clamp on her delicate lips. She rose and hobbled back to the stand. She had to raise her body on her tiptoes to manoeuvre her body along the crossbeam of the stand. Once she had reached the middle and had positioned her pussy over the small closed metal clamp, set into the beam, she stepped onto the small metal flanges that protruded slightly from the base. The think metal plates extended only far enough for her toes to create any pressure.

 

She tried to put all her weight on her toes but she could not create enough pressure to depress the plates far enough to open the clamp. Sarah had placed the weight that clung to her pussyclamp directly onto the beam, causing her to moan in pain as the pressure pushed her clamped cuntlips into her body. The teeth of the clamp had opened slightly but not enough to allow the weight to slide inside. Sarah thought desperately of how she could depress the pressure pads.

 

Her time was running out. She had done some simple maths and knew she had to bring back a weight every 45 seconds or she would not make it. She had wasted a minute and she still had not managed to get the current weight off her pussy. Sarah shuffled her legs to either side, turning her feet so she could place the side of her foot along the beam. She pushed down and almost smiled to see the teeth of the clamp set into the beam open. She now stood a good inch higher than before, the result of her new stance, and had to bend at the knee to lower her pussy and its weight into the waiting jaws of the clamp.

 

Sarah watched the operation closely, her thighs trembling from the strain, to make sure that just the weight would be caught. It would be disastrous if the beam clamp closed over the one attached to her pussy. Satisfied with her positioning, Sarah gently released the pressure on the pads, sliding her feet slowly off the two metal flanges. The clamp closed perfectly on the weight. Now she had to detach herself from the stand and make up some time.

 

Sarah took small, mincing steps backwards, scraping her naked buttocks along the beam. As she moved backwards the weight stayed snugly in the clamp and her pussylips were cruelly stretched as the magnet and clamp fought for dominion of the weight. Sarah gritted her teeth and continued shuffling backwards. A strangled groan escaped the teenager’s tightly pursed lips as her labia continued to stretch. She was wondering how strong this magnet was when the contact was broken and her pussylips and their clamp snapped back into place. She stumbled and almost fell at the sudden loss of tension.

 

A short, sharp scream echoed around the empty chamber. As Sarah righted herself, she wriggled the fingers on each hand, desperate to touch her pussy. She would not have removed the clamp that squeezed them so painfully but she felt an almost pathological need to just touch her lips, to make sure they were alright. Her arms, tightly bound in a severe square formation behind her, prevented any such comfort.

 

Sarah heard a loud 'tsk tsk' from the headmistress and she knew she was wasting time. Without another thought Sarah returned to the first cluster, squatted to collect the next weight and moved swiftly back to the stand. The pieces of metal she was lifting were only tiny but they weighed a considerable amount. Sarah guessed they had to be something very dense. The young teen was amazed that in the middle of so torturous and degrading an activity, she could still think so clearly.

 

As she returned to the stand and shuffled her body along the crossbeam, she was conscious of the headmistress moving closer to her. Sarah had learnt from her previous effort and instantly spread her legs wider, stepping up higher on her toes and turning her feet sideways so they were flush against one of the base supports. Instantly the jaws of the clamp opened and her first weight dropped out of sight, a dull clunk sounding a moment later. Sarah wasted no time lowering her second weight into the small square opening in the beam and gently closing the jaws.

 

Sarah knew she had to make up some time and proceeded to step back in large strides. After only two steps of agony, as her pussylips distended under the pressure, the magnet lost its grip and the second weight had been deposited. Sarah cried out again, unable to keep her silence as the pain in her pussy became too great. As she hurried back to collect her third weight, Mrs Huffington Smythe began to speak.

 

"Why do you think this particular activity was chosen for your first detention slut?"

"To impress upon me the fact that I think too much with my cunt, Ma'am?"

"Precocious yet perceptive. You are a conundrum. You are a very promising slut but you have definite discipline issues as well as definite locus issues. You have an internal locus that is simply not acceptable for a slut. A slut's locus is always an external one. A slut must always ensure her orientation is directed outwards.

 

"How she can please her superiors, how she can improve her environment to bring more pleasure to her superiors, how her holes can be utilised to please. Every movement, every sound, every look, every thought must be one directed outwards. Why are you here and not one of your classmates? Why have you earned more infractions that any student in the Trinity House annals. Your cunt occupies too great a place in your current idealogy.

 

"A slut's cunt is simply one of the three holes with which she pleases her superiors. No more or less important than any other piece of equipment at a slut's disposal. A slut's cunt does not exist for her own pleasure or to be used for her own gain. Do you understand this?"

 

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah responded as she straightened up after the sixth piece of metal had snapped to the magnet clamped to her pussy.

"Explain to me, in your own words, how you feel about your cunt."

"My cunt is not my own Ma'am. It belongs to my owner to be used for whatever purposes he wishes. My cunt is currently being trained to please because I am an untrained slut who needs to learn how to behave and how to serve."

 

Sarah spoke the first words that came to her, trying hard to focus on the headmistress as well as the detention task set for her. She was moving swiftly and smoothly now, more and more aware of the time ticking away. She did not pause for an instant, knowing it was important for a slut to be able to focus on two things at the same time. She was causing herself more pain as she moved faster and faster, aware that speed would increase her agony but knowing also that it would be nothing compared to what failure would bring.

 

"Think about what you just said slut. 'My cunt'? You are property. Tell me again how you feel about your cunt."

 

"My owner's cunt is being trained to be used properly, to fulfil its potential. My owner's cunt is an important piece of equipment to be used to bring pleasure to my owner or anyone he may wish. I am doing my best to make sure my owner's cunt is trained to be able to fulfil any desire my owner may have."

 

Sarah hoped what she was saying was correct, hoping that it was what Mrs Huffington Smythe wanted to hear. It sounded right, as soon as the headmistress had told her to think about being property the diminutive schoolgirl had known exactly what to say. Was that the way she needed to think about her pussy to improve her behaviour? To not only think of her pussy as an object rather than a part of her body, but to also realise that her entire body was simply a collection of these 'objects', owned by someone else.

 

It was an easy concept to understand and yet at the same time a very difficult one reconcile herself with. She needed to disassociate herself from the sensations in her pussy. She needed her perception of her pussy as equipment to become second nature, to be something she never thought about at all. She knew that would not be easy, but what part of her training so far had been easy. Sarah didn't really know how to go about it but she knew she had to try.

 

"You are owned by your patron who cares about you. Your potential was recognised immediately and you are very lucky that you were sent to Harkwood to fulfil that potential. The thought of any slut not receiving training, not being able to realise her potential is an unsettling one but it happens every day. Institutions such as Harkwood can only accept so many students. You are one of the lucky few who will live a full and satisfying life as a slut.

 

"But with each year, and each new patron, schools like Harkwood, bring society a few steps closer to the natural order. With each slut who graduates, society is a little less abhorrent. You see slut, it is not only your duty to serve your owner but to also do all in your power to help other sluts gain the chance to experience the life they were meant to have.

 

"First of all though, you need to be trained. You need to learn obedience and respect. You need to learn how to serve. You already know that you must, your instincts have told you as much. But first you need to break the hold that your cunt holds over you. To help you with this, each time you return a weight, recite the lesson you are here to learn - "My owner's cunt exists to serve."

 

Sarah had squatted down to collect the seventeenth weight as the headmistress finished her lecture. She watched as the piece of metal jumped the inch gap and stuck to the magnet clamped to her cunt, stretching her tender lips. Each movement brought intense pain to the beleaguered schoolgirl. Lowering and raising her body caused the tight belt around her waist to cut painfully into the delicate flesh of her belly and waist.

 

The pain in her pussy never lessened as the constant lifting and tugging of the weights never allowed the clamp to be still for more than a few seconds. Her arms and shoulders had begun to ache long ago and she tried to clench her fingers to help with the pain. Even her legs ached with the constant squatting and tiptoeing. This was not a lesson isolated to her pussy. Her entire body was covered in sweat, rivulets of the salty liquid ran down her face and sides. Sarah licked her upper lip, removing the tiny beads that had formed there, glad of even that tiny amount of moisture as she swallowed, her mouth dry and uncomfortable.

 

She moved swiftly to the stand and performed the movement that had by now become so familiar. This time, as the jaws of the clamp closed over the weight, Sarah intoned her mantra for the first time, "My owner's cunt exists to serve."  For some reason, through the pain and the sweat, she blushed furiously as the words left her mouth. She was naked before the headmistress performing a deeply degrading, menial task and she blushed when forced to speak words designed only to help her. Confusion reigned as Sarah continued to collect the scattered weights from the floor. She could no longer predict her own reactions to a situation.

 

"Slut," said Mrs Huffington Smythe quite nonchalantly as she leaned so gracefully against the heavy wooden stand in the centre of the room, "explain to me why you think you, out of all the sluts in your house, deserve more punishment."

"I deserve more punishment because I lack the discipline a slut needs to keep her focus always on an external locus Ma'am."

"Go on," the headmistress urged, watching every move Sarah made while returning yet another metal weight.

"I have let my owner's cunt rule my thoughts and actions Ma'am. I have been selfish and thought about my own needs instead of making sure I thought of the needs and desires of my superiors. My owner's cunt exists to serve," Sarah finished in a groan as she stepped back from the stand, distending her pussylips as the jaws of the clamp and the magnet at her pussy fought for supremacy of the weight.

"Continue," directed the headmistress, not satisfied with the depth of Sarah's answers.

"I am also an untrained slut Ma'am. Not being trained to be obedient and to serve is no excuse for my horrid behaviour, but it is a reason for it. My owner's cunt exists to serve. I have ignored my instincts and not embraced my slut nature and this reinforced my selfish and introverted nature Ma'am. Being so selfish meant that I did not develop the correct self-discipline that a slut requires."

 

Sarah paused in her speech, bringing yet another small weight back to the stand. She thought this was the 26th weight she had returned but she had to admit to herself that she had lost count while concentrating on telling the headmistress what she wanted to hear. That was not fair, Sarah instantly admonished herself. She had not simply made the answers up to please the stern headmistress. She had searched her soul for the reasons why she was in detention and had spoken the words that resonated as truth the moment she spoke them. Sure some thought had gone into their structure, hopefully pleasing Mrs Huffington Smythe with their composition and sincerity.

 

The tortured schoolgirl was moaning softly with almost every movement now. The activities of the day and the strenuous and agonising task she was currently completing were taking their toll. Sarah knew though, that she had reserves available. Her time with Miss Vonn had taught her that. "My owner's cunt exists to serve," Sarah said clearly and confidently. Her comments were meant only for her, but she knew that it was only proper for her to enunciate clearly so her enthusiasm and obedience to a command could be gauged by her superiors.

 

It was as she squatted down to collect her next weight that she heard two tiny electronic beeps from the direction of the headmistress. Sarah looked up at the leather clad woman and wondered what they could mean. Long ago, she had decided it was proper etiquette for a slut to show off her assets to any superior present and she had ensured that each time she squatted to collect a weight the headmistress had a clear view of her clamped pussy.

 

Sarah did not take her eyes of Mrs Huffington Smythe as she returned to the stand. She watched as the headmistress languidly drew a small silver chain from between her breasts. Attached to the very end was a small watch that was glanced at once and then replaced in the sensual valley between her large breasts. Sarah's pulse began to quicken. She was now worried about the time she had left and began to move faster, though each small increase in speed brought further pain.

 

"Tell me about this famous cuntcream I have heard so much about," enquired the headmistress as she listened intently to Sarah's soft groans as she moved around the room, collecting the small pieces of heavy metal.

 

"My owner's cunt produces a cream that is thick and white Ma'am. My owner's cunt exists to serve. The cream is much thicker than most slut's and has a pleasant taste. My owner's cunt produces a large volume of this cream and starts with very little stimulation. The cuntcream also continues to, my owner's cunt exists to serve, be produced as long as I am aroused Ma'am."

 

Sarah's face was now a blazing red and not only from the exertion of the task she had been set. Describing herself, she corrected, describing a part of her body owned by another, made her deeply conscious of the lesson she was learning, a lesson crucial to every slut's development. She was glad to learn it, and who was she to choose in what way her lessons were to be taught. Her teachers knew the best way for a slut to learn and she did trust them. So why could she not stop blushing with apparent shame? Her thighs burned as she squatted yet again. A fresh stab of pain shot into her pussy as the added weight was added, pulling her plump lips out from her body. Sarah could not have described the pain if she had been asked to. It wasn't just the agony in her pussy, her entire body hurt. If only the wicked leather belt could have been removed from around her waist it would have made the world of difference. Sarah knew she could go faster even with the belt, but she felt that without it she may already have finished.

 

She could not ignore the pain that was coursing through her body, the dull aches and the sharp pulses, so the agonised teen tried to accept it as a part of her lesson. She would use the memory of the pain to help her stay out of this room in the future. She spoke her mantra as another weight was painfully ripped from the magnet clamped to her pussy and noticed that the headmistress had moved from the stand and now stood gracefully by the door, her left leg pointed to one side, shifting the body weight and pushing her hip out. Sarah was amazed at how this slight movement had made her headmistress look like a model. The grace and restrained sexuality of the pose affected Sarah deeply.

 

It took a moment for Sarah to even realise that her nipples had hardened. She had been working hard and she had learned that it is usual for a slut to become aroused during physical activity because her body would equate the exertion with sex. But her nipples had stayed soft until now, until she had noticed her headmistress. It could be a coincidence but Sarah knew that it was not. She had to accept and embrace the way she felt. Not only was there nothing wrong with it, despite the heat of humiliation that burned in her face, but it was natural. It was a part of who she was. She had no more control over such feelings than she did over her body temperature.

 

Would her pussy begin to produce the cream the headmistress had been so interested in? Surely the amount of pain she was in, and the level of concentration she was focusing on her task would prevent her from becoming truly aroused. Then again, her body had already shown her over the past two days that it was something over which she had very little control. Before her arrival at Harkwood she had always prided herself on the control she had in her life; over her studies, her relationships and her body. She had learnt in the last two days that she really knew nothing about her body, strangers knew more about her, knew more of what she was capable of.

 

"My owner's cunt exists to serve," Sarah said as she returned what she thought was her 43rd weight. She was beginning to have to search for the small pieces of grey metal now. They were not that easy to see as their dull colour matched almost perfectly the colour of the rough concrete floor. Realising that much time could be wasted in searching made her panic a little. Realising that due to her losing count she might not even know when she was finished made her search ever more frantically.

 

Sarah stepped off the wooden stand, her pussylips in intense pain as the severe clamp continued squeeze her tender pink labia together into one mass of delicate agonised flesh. Sarah glanced at the headmistress and then searched the floor for her next weight. She saw two together in the far corner and all but ran to collect them. She dutifully turned to face Mrs Huffington Smythe to present her pussy and tits for display as she squatted through the pain as gracefully as she could. The familiar feeling of the magnet pulling the weight towards her pussy let her know she was close.

 

The sweating teen grunted in pain as she straightened out of her squat. She dared a glance down as she scurried back to the stand and noticed that she had two weights hanging from her pussy-magnet. Was she allowed to collect two at once? She was actually surprised that she had not done so before now. The older woman's face betrayed no emotion so Sarah took that as tacit consent to continue.

 

She had mastered the technique of returning the weights and now stepped swiftly onto the pressure pads, opened the jaws and caught both weights into the open space. She eased off the pads gently, closing the clamp slowly, making sure both weights caught. With a loud squeal of pain she stepped off the stand, leaving the weights behind and began immediately to scan for the few remaining pieces of metal. She was intensely aware of the headmistresses’s stern gaze as she stepped around the room, searching desperately for the remaining weights.

 

Valuable seconds were wasted as she darted her head left and right, frantic now that time was ticking away. Finally she spotted a small metal fragment near the toe of Mrs Huffington Smythe's right toe. Sarah hurried over, squatted as gracefully as she could and collected the weight, making sure she did not touch the shining black boot worn by the headmistress.

 

"Express to me your feelings towards your owner, slut."

"I am very grateful to my owner Ma'am. My owner's cunt exists to serve. My owner has provided me with the chance to train to be a slut and to fulfil my potential and be a benefit to society Ma'am. I am thankful that my owner realised my potential and enrolled me at the best school for slut training. My owner's cunt exists to serve. I wish to please my owner by becoming the best slut that I can be."

"Do you think your owner would be pleased with your progress?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah replied. She knew it was a bold answer and she prayed for the chance to elaborate, as she knew how arrogant it may have sounded.

"You think your owner would be pleased that you are in detention on the second day of classes?" asked the headmistress surprised, yet curious.

"No Ma'am."

"Clarify slut, you have me intrigued."

"Yes Ma'am. I hope very much that my owner would be pleased with my progress in my training to be a slut because I have learnt a lot about being a slut. I am sorry to say that I think my owner would be very displeased with my atrocious behaviour, my owner's cunt exists to serve, because it has let down the staff and my owner but it has allowed me to learn valuable lessons that I hope have helped my progress with my training Ma'am."

 

Sarah hoped with every fibre of her being that she had explained herself well enough. Thinking back as she scanned the floor for what was possibly her last weight, what she had just said sounded dangerously like babbling. The desperate schoolgirl had no idea how much time she had left, and thanks to her lack of focus, she also had only guesswork to tell her how many weights she had yet to return. She was panting heavily as she stalked the room, searching for the elusive shards of metal.

 

"Slut why are you not standing at attention?" snapped the headmistress.

 

Sarah immediately stood at attention, taking time only to make sure she was facing the headmistress. She was on the other side of the room, the thick wooden stand the only obstacle between them.

 

"Here slut. When you are ordered to attention you present yourself before your superior."

 

Sarah pranced across the room, the odd movement the only way she could move at speed without causing wracking waves of agony to shoot into her belly and cunt. She moved to within two feet of the headmistress and stood at attention, staring forlornly at the large latex covered breasts which were thrust directly in her eye-line of the short girl. Had she finished without knowing? Did it mean more trouble for her?

 

"Well?"

"Sorry Ma'am, I was not standing at attention because I was still completing my task Ma'am."

"Incorrect. You have earned an infraction for failure to attend to a task. Are you unable to focus on two concepts at once?"

"No Ma'am," Sarah replied morosely.

"And yet you have. You completed the task with almost two minutes to spare. To ensure that you have not wasted any time you will utilise your remaining time to collect one last item."

 

At this the headmistress rolled a thick metal cylinder across the floor. A harsh metallic clang echoed through the chamber as it rolled to a stop against the far wall. Sarah hadn't had a chance to see the cylinder but she could tell by the sound as it hit the hard floor that it was larger than any of the previous weights.

 

"Fetch," commanded Mrs Huffington Smythe.

 

Sarah turned quickly in the direction she thought the item had rolled and  immediately spotted the shiny cylinder. It was twice as large as any of the weights Sarah had already collected. Sarah scurried over, turned to face the headmistress and squatted low in one smooth movement: her ass moved straight down, her legs spreading widely as she had been taught.

 

The exhausted teen squealed as her pussylips were pulled painfully by the attraction of the metal cylinder to the magnet between her legs. Sarah straightened slowly, a low moan escaping her pursed lips as she did so. Before she was even halfway into a standing position she felt the pressure lessen, followed a moment later by a sharp clink as the solid metal cylinder hit the hard concrete. Tears of frustration rolled down Sarah's cheek as she again lowered her body to the floor. This time she made sure to position her pussy directly over the cylinder, hoping to make better contact with its surface. She grunted once again as the delicate flesh of her pussy was painfully stretched by the heavy metal cylinder. She raised herself slowly this time, aware of the movement at her pussy, knowing the weight was too great for the small magnet, knowing she had to be extra careful or she would drop it again.

 

Sarah walked slowly towards the stand, each step carefully planned, her legs spread to prevent her thighs dislodging the precarious hold the magnet had.

 

"Describe cocksucking technique two slut."

"Ma'am, cocksucking technique two is when a slut has a rhythm of three strokes down the shaft of the cock with her mouth, two fast and the third slower and deeper."
"What is most important to a slut?"

"To serve and please her owner Ma'am."

 

Sarah had successfully made her way to the stand and now stood with her feet depressing each pressure pad and her pussy directly above the open clamp. The cylinder was quite wide and she was unsure if it would even fit within the waiting jaws. She lowered herself carefully, bending at the knee, spreading her legs outwards as she tried to deposit the weight. She soon realised she would have to push down with her weight to force the cylinder between the jaws of the clamp. It would fit, but only just. Sarah screamed as she crushed her pussy onto the stand, the harsh metal clamp now not only squashing her labia together but digging into the tender flesh between her legs.

 

She felt a distinct pop and immediately stepped off the pad, releasing the clamp which clung firmly to the cylinder. Sarah knew she had wasted a lot of time and was determined to finish her detention, hopefully pleasing her headmistress. The exhausted schoolgirl, clenched her jaw, took a deep breath and stepped backwards off the stand. The magnet clamped to her pussylips did not want to let go of the weight. She stepped back again, another scream, guttural and agonising, reverberated around the chamber as she stretched her pussylips further, With a suddenness that surprised her, the magnet and cylinder parted, the clamp on her cunt snapping back causing a pained grunt, deep and primal, to explode from the tortured teen. Sarah took a moment to regain her composure before presenting herself to the headmistress. Sarah's body was awash with a pain that made it difficult for her to stand upright, motionless at attention. Tears rolled unchecked down the distressed girl's cheeks, mingling with the sweat that covered her face and body.

 

"Nine seconds slut. It is also interesting to note that your claims regarding focus were not completely false, which does, however make your earlier lapse the more egregious. Your first detention has reached its conclusion. It shall be only 24 hours before you return. Your behaviour requires substantial improvement or you are destined to become a permanent fixture in these rooms. What do you wish to say?"

"Thank you for my detention Ma'am. I am very sorry that my abysmal behaviour and lack of discipline caused extra work. I am very thankful for the time and effort required to help me be a better slut."

"You have an appointment with Miss Watson to work on your posture training."

 

As she finished speaking Mrs Huffington Smythe reached between Sarah's legs and, in one smooth movement, removed the clamp from her pussy. Sarah screamed as the blood rushed back into the delicate flesh, a jagged screech of pain as an agony more intense and universal than anything she had experienced slammed into her body. The whimpering teen danced on the spot, pushing her legs together before quickly moving them apart, squatting low to the ground before shooting to her full height.

 

Sarah's entire body quivered as she attempted to deal with the overwhelming sensation between her legs. She momentarily forgot where she was, thinking only of tending to her abused pussy. The fact that she could not move her arms, tied so rigidly behind her as they were, shocked her back to the reality of where she was. Sarah tried her best to stand at attention before the headmistress, who stood motionless before her. It took an immense effort of will for her to stop wriggling her body, trying in vain to find a position, any position, where the pain in her pussy was lessened even slightly.

 

"Madame De Witt informed me that you could not dance but I think you dance admirably," Mrs Huffington Smythe said smiling, once Sarah had stood at attention before her. "Does your cunt hurt?"
"Yes Ma'am," Sarah gasped.

"Let me help with your circulation."

Sarah yelped and pushed her hips back slightly, as the headmistress’s latex-clad hand dipped between her legs and caressed her sensitive flesh. The colour drained from her face as she immediately realised she had done the wrong thing. She straightened up and looked at the tall woman before her.

 

"Another infraction. Present that cunt. Yes, you know you were wrong to move it.  Still hung up on those selfish motivations. It is perhaps fortuitous that you shall join me again tomorrow and if I am not mistaken that infraction earned you your third detention for the week and your first punishment session. You have truly outdone yourself with such an achievement."

 

Sarah had stood quickly to attention, pushing her hips forward as far as she could, as the headmistress spoke. She whined and squealed as the delicate flesh of her pussy was massaged, filling the room with a pitifully high-pitched sound.

 

"Silence. You are a very ungrateful little bitch."

"Sorry Ma'am," Sarah blubbered.

"Sorry is an inappropriate sentiment slut. What would be the only appropriate words a slut would speak in such a situation."
"Thank you Ma'am."

"When you thank a superior, you thank them specifically. A slut should be grateful for any attention she receives, whether it is accompanied by pleasure or pain is irrelevant. So when a slut wishes to express her gratitude for a specific act she is sure to mention it."

"Thank you for massaging my pussy Ma'am."

"And..."

"And thank you for teaching me to be a better slut Ma'am."

"Another infraction, silly little bitch. Where should a slut’s eyes be directed unless specified otherwise?"

"Directly in front Ma'am."

 

Sarah cursed herself. The headmistress had been moving around her, massaging her pussy as she inspected the rest of her body. She had only flicked her eyes to follow her once, but once was enough. The pain between her legs had started to lessen and Sarah knew that her pussy had begun to moisten. In only two days she had learned enough of her body to recognise the now familiar signs. She had moved her eyes to see if her headmistress had noticed the emergence of the secretions.

 

Mrs Huffington Smythe's expert fingers continued to manipulate the naked schoolgirl's pussy. Her deft fingers slipped between the plump lips; her middle finger dipping slightly inside her while a finger rested on either side, squeezing and sliding across her abused lips, forming a trident of slippery black latex. Two long red indentations ran the length of the poor girl’s sex, the marks from the clamp lingering long after the pain had subsided.

 

"Ah yes, I can see why your teachers have you marked as a grade 12," whispered the headmistress as she pushed two fingers inside Sarah with ease.

 

With her right hand Mrs Huffington Smythe grasped Sarah by the throat, just above her collar. With her left she began fucking the gasping schoolgirl with great speed, her fingers pistoning in and out of her moist cleft. The only sound in the room now was the wet, slapping sound as her pussy was pounded and the soft panting moans of the schoolgirl, dazed by the sudden transition from pain to pleasure. As abruptly as it began, the headmistress removed her fingers from Sarah's pussy with a long, languid stroke, gathering all the cuntcream she had produced.

 

The headmistress stood in front of the petite student, allowing Sarah to watch as she licked the thick white substance that covered the black fingers of her left hand. The headmistress licked each finger, placing it deep within her mouth and cleaning them thoroughly before flattening her hand and licking the remnants off her palm.

 

"Put the stand away then wait by the door. Your behaviour has caused you to miss the evening meal so you will receive your sustenance in liquid form prior to leaving."

 

Sarah moved back towards the centre of the room and began pushing the heavy wooden stand back into the corner. She rallied her energy and pushed the stand halfway across the room without stopping. Another two pushes and she had it squared away. Her chest heaved from the effort, the wicked band of leather making each breath a laboured breath a painful experience.

 

Mrs Huffington Smythe waited for the young girl to arrive, watching with disapproval at the slovenly movements of the exhausted girl. She stood next to a large white plastic bottle that hung suspended from the same hook that held her clothes. It hung low to the ground, upside down, tipped by a long thin plastic nipple that looked to Sarah like a small hot dog weiner. The large square bottle was more than half full with a sickly yellow liquid.

 

"Kneel and begin."

 

Sarah lowered herself to her knees gently, unable to balance properly without the use of her arms. She shuffled closer to the wall, lifted her head towards the bottle and took the three inch nipple into her mouth. She commenced sucking as soon as it was inside and was rewarded with a stream of bitter liquid. Sarah was sure that it contained all the nutrients and vitamins that she needed but it tasted vile. She pulled back from the teat briefly, cringing at the terrible flavour that coated her mouth. The liquid felt oily, coating her teeth and tongue with an aftertaste that made the young girl balk. She had no choice but to proceed, she had to accept it as just another part of her detention. The delicious meals at Harkwood were something she would not take for granted from this moment forth.

 

As she proceeded to empty the bottle, her head tilted back to allow her access to her meal, she felt a touch at the sensitive skin between her legs. Sarah moaned as she swallowed her dinner, the experienced fingers quickly finding her clit. Without realising what she was doing Sarah shifted her hips, pushing her pussy onto the hands of her headmistress. She had quickly adopted the simple rhythm that she had devised during gym class and was soon swallowing a mouthful of the bitter liquid for every three sucks.

 

Sarah thought she would surely become used to the taste but after her third mouthful she almost gagged. She took a moment to compose herself, being sure to keep the long nipple in her mouth. The hand at her pussy stopped the moment she stopped sucking on the nipple, something which Sarah had failed to notice, though her body once again sought the attention on its own.

 

The naked teen tried to focus on finishing her meal, doing her best to ignore the pleasurable sensation that was building deep inside her. She had begun to grind her hips against the slick hand, forcing the nipple further into her mouth as she raised herself slightly each time. To an observer it was clear that Sarah was fucking the long rubber nipple with her mouth, not merely drinking as she had been ordered, but instinctively fulfilling her desire to have her mouth filled.

 

Sarah could feel herself near orgasm but was determined not to come. She knew would not be given permission to come, knew that she did not deserve to come. She needed to prove to the headmistress, and to herself, that her behaviour was not ruled by her vagina. She sucked with renewed vigour as the ecstasy built. As the last drops were suckled from the bottle, the headmistress ceased playing with Sarah's pussy. Her gloved hand was covered in the sticky white cream the schoolgirl produced and  she lustily devoured the cream from her fingers as she contemplated the naked, kneeling teen.

 

Yes, she thought to herself, once the behaviour improves we will have a very promising slut indeed. The higher grade sluts were the usual suspects for poor behaviour in the early stages of training but the lack of discipline from the girl who knelt before her had surprised even an experienced educator as herself. Well, she mused, the end result was always the same, it was just that some bitches needed a little extra tuition.

 

"Stand. Centre of the room. Once these ropes are removed you are to dress and await your handler in the holding cell she has organised for you. Talk of your collar."

 

It was an unusually framed request but Sarah began to speak as the ropes that bound her arms so tightly were slowly unwound. "Ma'am, my collar is a part of the my uniform as a student of Trinity house. It is made of metal and fits my neck perfectly, due to the excellent work of Mrs Goodwin. My collar, more than any other part of my uniform symbolises my new life as the property of my owner. Even when I am without the rest of my uniform it remains a reminder of my status as the possession of another Ma'am."

 

Sarah paused as she thought about her collar and what she could say to satisfy her headmistress. What did her collar mean to her? She had thought about her collar at times, but she had never delved too deeply into it, a little afraid of what she may discover.

 

"At first Ma'am, I did not like the collar but I have grown to accept it and to be comforted by its presence. I am not always conscious of it but I always know that it is there and it comes to the front of my thoughts at all times of the night and day. The collar is designed beautifully and does not move around my neck so that the ring is always at the front but it does move a little as I move and this makes me always think of it. When I think of my collar I think of my owner and I think of the slut that I am and the slut that I will be when I am trained and I think of how pleased my owner will be when I am trained and I can begin to serve him and he will know that I exist to serve and to bring pleasure to my superiors."

 

Sarah had tried to think of what she could say but the painful sensation of the blood flowing back into her arms, that had been so rigidly restrained behind her back, had begun almost immediately to distract her. Her well thought out dissertation on her collar quickly turned into a rambling mess. She knew a slut should only speak when she had something to say so she hoped that being ordered to talk had in some way absolved her of the need to make sense. What more could she even say about the collar that adorned her slim neck.

 

As soon as Sarah felt the last of the ropes slide off her arms she moved them down into the small of her back. They moved clumsily, the sharp needle tingling denying her some measure of control. The naked, and now unrestrained, teen watched her headmistress coil the rope deftly and replace it on the wall of equipment. Mrs Huffington Smythe turned and looked at Sarah, the withering gaze making the young girl tremble with anxiety.

 

She blanched as she realised she was failing to obey an order and hurriedly moved to the door to begin dressing. As she donned her meagre uniform she reflected back on her first detention. She was left dazed and confused by the experience. Her body ached, especially her pussy. Her delicate lips had not recovered from the abuse they had received as she had collected the small weights. As she slipped her small panties up her legs she noticed that two clear indentations were still visible on the outside of her labia, the soft pink turned a deep red in two long lines. It was not just the tight bite of the clamp but the constant stretching and pulling she had caused herself.

 

Sarah realised as she buttoned her blouse, that apart from the actual placement of the clamp, the headmistress had not done anything to her during the entire detention. All the pain she had experienced she had caused herself. Was that part of the lesson or was she reading way too much into what was a straightforward lesson to teach a slut good behaviour?

 

Once she had finished dressing Sarah turned to Mrs Huffington Smythe, curtsied daintily and thanked her deeply for the lessons she had learned during her detention. When the headmistress simply continued to stare at Sarah as if she were some kind of unintelligible alien she beat a hasty retreat from the room, curtsying once more before disappearing behind the large metal door to detention room 17.