Chapter 1. In which Sarah arrives at Harkwood Academy

The large stone edifice of Harkwood rose up through the trees at the end of the gravel drive, looking like something from the opening scene of a Merchant Ivory film. It was Sarah Porter's first look at her new school. The taxi took almost five minutes to traverse the winding gravel road from the front gate and the closer she came to her destination, the more apprehensive Sarah became.

She was excited to be sure, but a new school was always something to be nervous about. A new school in a new country was definitely something to be nervous about. It was a great opportunity, she had to keep telling herself that. Just because her stepdad wanted her out of the way didn't mean she shouldn't be grateful. When she had researched the school on the internet it had great credentials, a brilliant academic record and curriculum. Just what she had always wanted. She knew she should be happy, but to fly all the way to England to a boarding school at 16 was just a little scary.

Sarah heard the crunch of gravel as the cab pulled away and drove back to the town. She must have been daydreaming as she hadn't even realised they had arrived. She turned back to the imposing wooden doors set in the great, grey stone building. Sarah stood there, her two bags beside her - all her possessions in the world now. She was only 5 foot tall and slender and standing before this old gothic building made her think of the horror stories by Lovecraft that she loved so much. She almost expected to see a great tentacled horror burst through the thick metal banded oak doors.

She gave a small shiver, picked up her bags and moved up the few wide stone steps. It was late afternoon, and even though it was the middle of summer, the day was overcast, something she thought she would need to get used to now she was in England, and slightly chilly. She pulled her coat a little tighter and was so glad she was wearing stockings under her jeans. She wanted to get inside, to see her new school and get settled. Her hand trembled a little as she reached for the large iron ring set in the middle panel of the doors and knocked twice.

Almost instantly the doors opened and she was greeted by a smiling bearded face.

"Hello miss, and what would you be wanting here?"

"Um, I'm Sarah Porter," she mumbled.

Even though he was smiling this giant of a man was an imposing figure. Well over six foot tall and well built, he exuded power.

"Sarah Porter is it? And who's Sarah Porter when she's at home?"

Sarah was unsure what to say to this, obviously some quaint English colloquialism. He definitely had an odd way of speaking in questions which was slightly off-putting.

"Um, I... I'm a new student here at Harkwood. I've just arrived," Sarah stammered, indicating her bags on the ground beside her.

"Ah well then, you had better come in hadn't you?"

With that he moved out of the doorway and motioned for her to come inside. She picked up her bags and moved through the large door into the hallway beyond, a little chagrined that he had not offered to help her with her bags. After all he probably could have picked them up with his pinkies.

"We had better be off to the headmistress hadn't we? You're already late and we don't want you getting in any more trouble now do we?"

More trouble? What was he on about? Sarah did have to admit she was late though. Her flight had been delayed and then she had stopped off to post a few postcards in London but school did not start for another week. She had heaps of time to get to know the place. She picked up her bags and struggled after the man's figure as it retreated down a corridor to her left. She had to admit he had a definite appeal, his obviously muscular physique was not lost on the girl. She could get used to following him around, even if he did look ten years older than her.

Halfway down the corridor, he stopped and knocked at a door. Sarah was just catching up to him as he opened the door and stepped inside. She arrived just as the door was closing.

"Headmistress Mrs P Huffington-Smythe," Sarah read off the gold lettering embossed on the door. Wow, what a mouthful she thought to herself. Sarah could hear muffled voices from behind the door and was just about to lean in a little closer when it sprang open, the handsome man strode out and off down the hall without another word to the startled girl.

"Enter," rang a rather stentorian voice. Sarah stood staring down the corridor a little astonished at the rudeness of the man. Weren't the English supposed to be polite?

"Are you deaf or a dullard?"

Sarah jumped, grabbed her bags and hurried inside the room. The large office was beautifully appointed, richly decorated with thick burgundy carpet, leather chairs and a stunning mahogany table. The walls were covered in portraits in elaborate, baroque frames. Sarah's eyes drank in the finery of the room, she had never seen it’s like. It had the air of a royal palace.

"Dullard it is then." proclaimed the woman seated behind the large wooden desk that dominated one side of the room. Sarah blushed, pulling her gaze from surveying the walls and beheld the speaker. The woman would have been in her 40's but she was very attractive. She had a poise and grace that Sarah found enigmatic and simultaneously made her feel surprisingly inadequate. She dropped her bags and stepped forward with her hand extended.

"Hi I'm Sarah Por..."

"SILENCE."

Sarah was stunned. The sheer volume and violence of the word startled her and she took a step backwards, instinctively looking towards the door.

"Pick up those bags, walk to the door and place them neatly to one side against the wall, then come back and stand there," the headmistress said, indicating a spot in front of her desk, her eyes never leaving those of the frightened young girl.

Sarah picked up her bags and walked them meekly to the door. Five minutes in and she was already questioning her presence here, so far from home. Sarah made her way back to the desk and stood in front of this stern woman, so much different from the headmaster at her old school. Old Mr Jamison was really friendly.

"That is not where I told you to stand. Move to your right."

Sarah raised an eyebrow questioningly but took a step to her right, wondering what possible difference it made where she stood, but looked to the headmistress for approval.

"Uppity little prig aren't you?"

Sarah had no idea what a prig was but she was sure it wasn't complimentary.

"No Mrs Hufflington Smith, I am not," Sarah said obsequiously. Better not anger her any further, after all day one is not the best day to start being in trouble Sarah thought to herself.

"How dare you! You have a lot to learn little miss. Being from such a cultureless country is no excuse for the ignorance and crassness of the individual. You shall address me as Ma'am and you have earned yourself one infraction for impudence. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," mumbled Sarah, though she had no understanding at all of what was going on.

"Speak up, mumbling is indicative of ill-breeding, as if we needed anymore evidence of that in your case," proclaimed the headmistress as she leant back in her chair.

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah said more loudly this time.

"Yes Ma'am what?"

"Um, yes Ma'am I understand," Sarah said uncertainly.

"I highly doubt you do but I do not wish to be here all night."

The headmistress opened a folder before her on the desk.

"Sarah Josephine Porter, 16 years of age. American," this last was said with a disdainful curl of the lip. "Your father has arranged for your tuition here for the next two years."

At the mention of the word 'father' Sarah opened her mouth to speak but quickly caught herself. He wasn't her father, just the latest rich bastard her mother had managed to dig her hooks into.

"Stand up straight. Shoulders back, feet shoulders width apart. Arms behind your back, hands in the small of your back, right palm resting in the left. Elbows back."

Sarah was a little shocked, too shocked to move. The instructions had almost been spat at her, so quickly and so forcefully had they come. The headmistress stood up slowly. She moved with a quiet grace that was tinged with menace. Sarah quickly shuffled herself into position wondering what kind of school her stepfather had enrolled her in. She knew it was a prestigious finishing school but she had never thought it might be one of those 19th century disciplinarian schools, like something out of Dickens.

The headmistress walked slowly past Sarah, the silk sleeves of her blouse almost brushing the trembling body of the young girl. Sarah turned her head to watch where she was going.

"Eyes front."

Sarah snapped her head back forward. How had she known? She couldn't have seen her. Sarah felt something hard and heavy placed on the top of her head. She instinctively moved away but was caught by the arm in a vicelike grip that began to hurt immediately.

"Stand still until you are told to move. Now head up and eyes forward."

Sarah did as she was told and quickly realised that a book had been placed on her head.

"When you are standing to attention you stand like this. And when you are in the presence of any teacher or authority figure you will be standing at attention unless told otherwise. Slovenliness is not something tolerated in any girl at Harkwood. Your eyes stay to the front, curiosity is not becoming in a girl. You wait until you are given a point of focus and then you focus on that."

The headmistress circled Sarah as she spoke, moving in and out of her field of vision, providing constant temptation to move her head or eyes to follow the movement. Sarah held firm and focused on a portrait hanging on the wall behind the large desk, presumably a previous headmistress.

As she sat back down Sarah's eyes moved to follow her. She was facing forward and thought it was the right thing to do to look at someone as they spoke to you.

"One infraction for disobedience and one infraction for poor posture," the headmistress said resignedly. Sarah's eyes snapped back up and refocused on the portrait.

"I personally find slow learners to be quite tedious, but many of your teachers will find this a challenge. Do you understand your current position Porter?"

"Um, yes Ma'am."

"Well describe it to me."

Sarah had not quite thought that question through. She had just felt it better to agree and the consequences were not long in coming. What did she mean, position. She couldn't come up with anything better and she knew time was critical.

"I am standing at attention Ma'am," Sarah said, hoping this was right. She was feeling very confused and just a little stupid - not something she was used to at all.

"Go on."

"Um, I am standing..."

"If you say um one more time you will earn yourself another infraction. Um is what stupid people say to try and get their brain to work at the same speed as that of a normal person."

"Yes Ma'am, sorry Ma'am. I am standing at attention with my back straight, shoulders back and with my hands behind my back."

"And why are you standing at attention?"

"U...because you told me to Ma'am." Sarah caught herself just in time and cringed slightly, hoping she had not caused herself more trouble.

"Well simple minds provide simple results I suppose. You are standing at attention because you are in the presence of a superior. From what I have seen in this short time I think you will be hard pressed to find someone here who will not be your superior at Harkwood," the headmistress said with a sneer.

Sarah flushed in embarrassment, her cheeks becoming a mottled pink. She felt like a small child. Nothing she could do was right. Nothing she said was right. She had been in the building 10 minutes and she already felt like she didn't belong. Maybe she should have stayed at home at her normal high school, maybe she should have refused the chance to go to this great school and really excel.

She had always been a straight A student but that didn't mean much at her old school where most other students were lucky to see anything higher than a C on any exam result. But here she already felt like she might not be able to measure up and she had only just met the headmistress. Somewhere deep inside Sarah found the courage to stop the doubt. She had to pull herself together and believe that she could excel. No not just excel, but to be the best: best in class, best in year and best in school.

"Now, your father has enrolled you in our special curriculum. This means that you will be placed in Trinity house. Your classes will be taken only with other Trinity students, you will reside in the Trinity dormitory and be subject to all rules and regulations pertaining to Trinity house. You are being given a special opportunity Porter. We have a number of very distinguished Trinity alumni, including two wives of European heads of state. I must stress that Trinity girls are set a higher standard. There is no pass or fail for Trinity girls. It is 100% or failure and let me tell you Porter, failure is not tolerated at Harkwood. Understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah said with conviction. This was her chance to prove herself. A special school house, special subjects. It was everything she had dreamed of.

"Before you are outfitted and meet your handler, first we have to deal with some paperwork. Sign this form in the places marked. Your parents have signed these forms already, as have I. Once your enrolment is complete, your time at Harkwood will begin."

The headmistress rested a pen on the folder and pushed the papers across the desk towards Sarah. She knew this was a test, she only just caught herself from flicking her eyes to the papers. Finally her brain was kicking into gear, after the initial shock of being treated like a child. She knew she wasn't supposed to lean down and take the pen as not only would the book fall off her head but she would be out of position without permission. The only thing that worried her was if she was supposed to ask to move or just wait. She decided that making the headmistress wait might be the worse option.

"May I move to sign Ma'am?"

"Yes Porter, remove the book from your head, place it on the table and sign your enrolment forms."

Sarah reached up and removed the leather-bound book from her head and moved to place it on the table. She reached for the pen and looked at the papers. There was her mother’s and step-father’s signature, there was the headmistress’ large florid signature and all that remained was for her to sign. It was over in seconds. She did not even think to read the document, after all it would have been boring stuff about permissions and grades.

The instant she lifted the pen from the page the headmistress took back the papers and pen and placed them in a draw of the desk. She looked up at Sarah who quickly scrambled back to attention and waited with apprehension for what was to come next.

"Come in Miss Harper," shouted the headmistress.

The door behind Sarah opened and it took a mammoth effort of will for Sarah not to turn around and see who it was.

"Ah Miss Harper. This will be your charge for the rest of the semester. Her name is Porter. Please take her to the Supply Office, have her outfitted and ensure her physical is taken, then give her a perfunctory tour of the grounds. I am afraid that you will miss dinner but a late supper will be provided for you once your charge is safely in dorm."

"Yes Ma'am." Sarah could still not see the girl in question. She sounded a little older, which would make sense. Probably a senior assigned to help her out and help her settle in.

"Porter, this is Miss Harper and you will address her as such. She is a prefect from Medea house. She is to be counted among your superiors here at Harkwood as are all prefects. You owe her your obedience and good behaviour as your behaviour reflects upon her. Technically

she is your Housemother but that term is a little archaic and it has become a general rule just to call them handlers. It is a little break with tradition that I allow. Now, go."

Sarah turned to look at the girl and then move towards the door. The girl was a little taller than her and quite a bit stockier than her. Not fat exactly but definitely not slim. A little smile crept onto Sarah's face. This could be her first friend at her new school.

"Porter, when you are dismissed from the presence of a superior you show the proper respect. Now curtsy to Headmistress." Sarah's smile quickly vanished. So much for a new friend. This bitch was probably one of those stuck-up cows that got off on thinking she was better than everyone else. How could she even do a curtsy, she wasn't wearing a skirt.

Sarah's mind raced. She turned back to the headmistress and sort of bent her legs in what she thought was a kind of curtsy she had seen someone do once on TV.

"Wrong,” spat Harper. "Stand at attention. Now move your right foot directly behind your left and bend your knees. Too much, you're not doing squats." Sarah was mortified to be corrected like this by another girl but she grit her teeth and did as she was told.

"Now keep your back straight but bend at the waist and lean forwards slightly. Hands out to your side where your skirt should be. Forefinger and thumb together and the rest of your fingers fanned out. Now do it all at once."

Sarah felt the heat of the blush move up her chest to her neck and face. She felt her cheeks go bright red as she performed her first curtsy at the insistence of another young girl.

"Do you wish for this to be marked as an infraction Ma'am," Harper asked the headmistress.

"No Harper this time I shall let it pass. She has earned herself three infractions already, for disobedience, impudence and poor posture. Please make a note for this to be amended to her record at processing."
"Yes Ma'am. Come Porter, pick up your bags and let’s get going."

Sarah bowed her head and shuffled to the door behind the older girl. She picked up her bags and stepped into the corridor, her mind whirling in confusion, humiliation and just a little fear. This was like a crazy place but she would just have to adapt. She would show these people that all their silly rules and traditions were no match for her.

Chapter 2. In which Sarah is issued a uniform

"Move it Porter."

Sarah struggled with her bags as she tried to keep up with her handler. What did that even mean -  'handler'? It was a rather strange title but then everything was pretty strange at this school. Sarah was unsure if it was what all English boarding schools were like or if it was just all English people in general.

She ran along behind the fast-moving girl, quickly losing her way amongst the twists and turns of the old building. They passed only one other girl in the corridor and Sarah noticed that she was dressed in the same uniform as Harper. It was a cute little uniform of blue pleated skirt and white blouse with a blue chequered tie, white knee-socks and black shoes.

"I like your uniform," Sarah gasped when she caught up to Harper. The older girl stopped abruptly and twirled to face her, almost causing Sarah to fall over and knock the other girl down in the process. She only just managed to stumble against the wall to prevent it.

"Listen Porter I am a prefect of this school. Do you know what that means? You heard Mrs Huffington-Smythe explain it to you. I am your superior. You do not speak without permission and when you do you address me as Miss Harper. You got that?" The anger was evident on the young girl’s face.

"Uh, yeah Miss Harper," Sarah stammered somewhat taken aback.

"Uh, yeah Miss Harper," the older girl mimicked in a high-pitched whiny voice. "Try again and this time with respect, spunk."

"Yes Miss Harper," Sarah almost whispered, admonished by the venom in the girls voice.

"You listen and listen good. I am in charge of you during free periods, lunch, house events and generally any other time you are not under the supervision of a teacher or housemistress. If you get in trouble I get in trouble. Now I get in trouble and you better believe you will feel bad about that. You do what I say when I say. Fucking Trinity bitches. I know you cunts have your uses but you better not cost me any privileges. Fucking Trinity bitches! Fucking spunk! Now let’s get you processed."

Sarah was shocked by the tirade. She had no idea what was going on. Harper had already turned away and continued on so she stumbled after her, her mind reeling. This chick obviously hated her. But for what? For being in a different house? For having to show her around and be responsible?

Sarah knew she didn't hate her for who she was, she didn't know her. She vowed to do whatever she could to show the older girl she would not get her into trouble. She needed friends here. She never really had any great girlfriends back home. She was too studious, too quiet and reserved. All the other girls just wanted to watch the football players and get drunk or talk about vampires or some other stupid crap. She was hoping these English girls just might be a little more mature.

Sarah saw Harper disappear into a room ahead and hurried to follow her inside. The room was large and without a door, simply a large square opening that let on to the corridor. Directly ahead was a large counter behind which she could see a mass of caged shelves. To her left the entire wall was covered in small pigeonholes, some small letter-sized others much larger and might be able to hold one of her bags. To the right the room was split into three cubicles that all seemed empty right now.

"Put your bags up here on the counter and then move back into the middle of the room and wait," ordered Harper as she dinged the small metal bell that sat on the countertop. Sarah strode forward and struggled to lift her bags up onto the high counter. She then moved back into the centre of the room and looked at the pigeonholes. Most were empty but some had letters, some had small or large boxes and some contained some rather strange looking things that Sarah could not quite make out.

"Porter, what the hell? Attention!" Harper snapped.

Sarah jumped and quickly stood to attention. Damn, damn, damn. Her first chance squandered.

As she picked out something to focus on to keep her eyes ahead, she hoped that if she did something wrong and no one else was there that it would not reflect badly on Miss Harper. She chose the clock on the wall behind the counter. It was too far away for her to make out anything but the numbers but if she squinted she could almost see the thin hour and minute hands.

Harper stayed at the counter mumbling to herself and dinged the small metal bell again. Sarah wasn't sure exactly how long it took for someone to show up but she heard the bell ding twice more before she noticed some movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Sorry it took so long, it's after hours you know. And on a Sunday. Now how can I help you young lady." Sarah could tell from the voice it was an older lady, late 40s for sure. And she sounded rather matronly. Isn't it funny, she thought to herself, how you can get an impression from someone's voice alone. A small dreamy smile spread across Sarah’s face.

"She looks happy," observed the matronly woman.

"I have no idea why Mrs Goodwin. This is a new girl for Trinity house. Needs processing and she already has four infractions," stated Harper matter-of-factly. Sarah composed herself.

"Oh dear, another Trinity girl. Well let's begin. It's after five already and Miss Marple is on tonight. Never miss it dear. Ok, Porter is it. You can begin undressing, have her put her clothes in this bag and we can add it to her other bags for storage."

Sarah's mind couldn't quite process what she had just heard. She just stood, frozen to the spot. The only movement she made was the heaving of her chest as she fought for air and the blinking of her eyes as she tried to understand what was going on.

"Come on Porter. I know you're Trinity and all but surely you understand 'getting undressed'," derided Harper. Sarah's mind whirled.

"Uh yeah Miss Harper but... but...I...why do I have to get undressed?" Sarah asked plaintively.

"Well you need to be fitted for your uniform. It's all part of student processing. You are to wear your uniform at all times while are Harkwood. Even on excursions, if you have the permissions, you are to wear your uniform as you are always representing the school and your behaviour is always under scrutiny. Come on, you are at an all girls boarding school. You really think you have anything that hasn't already been seen?"

Well maybe for you, Sarah thought, but you haven't seen mine. She so wanted to answer back but she knew she already had a bunch of marks against her name and she desperately just wanted to fit in. Sarah didn't move however, until Harper started to advance towards her with the large paper bag.

"Two seconds Porter and you get infraction number five," threatened Harper.

Sarah took the whole two seconds to try and orientate herself. She moved towards one of the cubicles to her left and began unbuttoning her jacket.

"Get back here. What do you think you are doing?"

"Um, getting changed?"

"Well, well, infraction five it is," her handler said, shaking her head.

"Um, getting changed Miss Harper," Sarah quickly corrected herself.

"Well finally catching on but too late. Now those cubicles are for examinations. I told you to get undressed. Not to move anywhere. Now hurry it up."

"Yes Miss Harper," Sarah replied dejectedly. She began unbuttoning her jacket again and ducked a quick glance behind her as she did. The doorway was wide open. Anyone happening past could see straight in. At least it was warm inside the school, something she had noticed upon entering, what seemed like hours ago.

"I am going to count to ten Porter. If all your clothes aren't in this bag by the time I hit one you will have another infraction."

Tears began to form in Sarah's eyes. She was being treated as if she was entering prison instead of a highly respected school. Just because this was the way things were done here didn't really help to console her at all. She hurriedly placed her jacket in the bag, her jumper soon followed, then her overshirt.

"Nine."

Sarah hurried. She removed her t-shirt and then bent over and untied her sneakers and removed her socks, placing them in the bag as she straightened up.

"Six."

What happened to seven and eight? Sarah unlaced her belt and zipped down her jeans. She looked at Harper plaintively and seeing nothing but the stony-faced girl’s lack of compassion she slid them down her shapely legs, folded them and placed them in the bag as well. She then stood her arms folded across her chest, clad only in the plain black bra, black cotton panties and the full-leg black stockings.

"Five."

"Four."

Sarah scrambled to remove her stockings. She bent right over at the waist as she rolled them down her legs, balled them up and placed them in the bag.

"Three."

The tears that were welling in Sarah's eyes now tumbled down her cheeks.

"Please, I am undressed, stop counting," Sarah pleaded, though knowing full well that this was not what was expected. She just could not force herself to remove her bra and panties. No one living had seen her in anything less than bra and panties other than her mother and even she hadn't seen that for years. Sarah was not a prude but she was self-conscious about her body. She knew it was nice and slim and proportioned but she definitely didn't class herself as pretty. And her breasts, well her breasts... well they were hers.

"Two. Infraction six. Now we are going for number seven."

Sarah grit her teeth, screwed up her courage, fought back the wave of tears and quickly slipped the straps of her bra down her arms, twisted it around, unclipped it and threw it in the bag.

"One."

Sarah slipped her fingers in the band of her panties and slid them down her legs and demurely placed them in the bag along with the rest of her clothes, her protection, the remnants of her life before Harkwood.

"Now the necklace, bracelet and earrings. Personal jewellery is not permitted at Harkwood."

Sarah dejectedly removed the bracelet and earrings, and placed them gently in the bag. Then she reached up and unclasped her necklace, conscious of how her breasts moved with this action, the one present her mother had given her that meant something. She almost sobbed as she placed it in the bag with the rest of her possessions.

"Zero. Now take your bra out of the bag and place it in like a nice girl, not like some stroppy bitch. I won't put up with that bullshit disrespect," spat Harper.

Sarah, mortified now she was naked in front of another girl, and the older Mrs Goodwin whom she had totally forgotten about until now, sniffed and reached into the bag, took out her bra and placed it gently back in the bag.

"Now apologise for being a nasty little bitch."

"Uh sorry Miss Harper," sniffed Sarah, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"What for Porter? Don't you even know how to apologise properly. Surely you have had to do a lot of it, or maybe not. Well we are not as forgiving of little bitches here. Now apologise properly and stand at attention. That is the last time I will tell you." Harper moved in close to Sarah as she moved to attention - back straight, arms behind her, hands in the small of her back and her right palm resting in her left - almost but not quite touching her breasts.

"You better learn one thing right now. You stand at attention whenever you finish doing anything. You are supposed to do that in the presence of superiors but seeing you are a Trinity girl then that means pretty much everyone. It better become second nature to you quicksmart or you are going to have one tapestried ass. Got it?"

"Yes Miss Harper."

Sarah had resumed the humiliating position. To do it while clothed was one thing, now that she was naked it was totally different. Her breasts were slightly pushed out in front of her and her legs being shoulder-width apart meant her vagina was able to be seen. She had hardly any hair on her mound, just a light down of brown curls. She had always been rather annoyed that her pubic hair had not grown in so much as she knew it should, even for a 16 year old, and now more than ever as it left her even more exposed.

What did that 'tapestried ass' remark mean? Did they still have corporal punishment here? Or was she just trying to scare her. Sarah looked forward and tried to focus on the clock again. But the remnants of the tears in her eyes just made everything a huge watery blur. This wasn't fair. She was a good girl. She didn't deserve this treatment.

Sarah tried to justify it to herself in any way she could. Maybe it was some weird hazing kind of thing. Maybe it was just the weirdly strict British way. She had heard some strange things about Europeans. Maybe... well whatever, she needed to just get through it, get her uniform and try to figure out why everyone hated Trinity house. She had heard of girls being jealous of other girls who were smarter than them and Trinity was the special house for advanced students so maybe that was it. Well Sarah was determined to not follow the trend and be a Trinity girl who didn't turn her nose up at the other less fortunate girls of the other houses.

Sarah straightened her shoulders a little bit, blinked away the tears as best she could and waited patiently like she knew she should.

Sarah could hear the brisk clip of Mrs Goodwin’s heels on the hard flooring as she approached the girl. She steeled herself to remain looking forward. She was going to do right, she had six infractions, or something like that. She had no idea what they meant but she heard they would go on her record, and that was not a good thing.

"Right I am going to measure you for your uniform. We have a very strict uniform code here at Harkwood and infractions are earned for each and every breach. All these details can be found in the school rules which you will be issued with as part of your student kit. It is your responsibility to look after your uniform and kit. Any damage will be paid for by you, not your patron. Your patron pays for your tuition and your place at this hallowed school not for clumsiness, laziness or just plain wilfulness on your part. Do you understand, my dear?"

"Yes Mrs Goodwin."

"Porter, for fu... Mrs Goodwin is staff. This means you treat her with the appropriate respect."

What had she done wrong now? She was respectful, very respectful, she was trying her best. Was it her tone? No she had been very sweet. Too sweet? No, surely not. Then it hit her like a bolt from the blue.

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah replied meekly.

"You want me to add it Mrs Goodwin? She really should know better," questioned Harper.

"No dear that's alright. She didn't mean anything by it I am sure. I have dealt with enough of these Trinity girls over the years to know better."

"I know Mrs Goodwin, it's just that this one is mine and I don't want to gain strikes because of her. I don't even know why we have to have them here at all," pouted Harper.

"Come now, that's not quite fair. They have to be educated somewhere and Trinity house has always brought in a lot of money for this school. You have a rowing program, a full orchestra of instruments and world-class gym because of them. Besides, it's not their fault. I know how easy it is to blame, but God gave us all different gifts. He blessed you with brains, Miss Maths Champion, and he blessed this girl with something else entirely."

"I guess Mrs Goodwin. You are a wise lady."

"Ah Clarice, aren't you a sweetie. Now lets get you measured my dear," Mrs Goodwin said turning again to the waiting girl.

Sarah had stood patiently at attention, listening to this conversation. Now she was even more confused. Harper was smart? A maths champion? Well why wasn't she in Trinity house? And exactly how much had her stepfather paid to send her here. She didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts as she soon felt a cool plastic measuring tape placed around her waist. Mrs Goodwin leaned in, read off the measurement and wrote it down on a little pad.

"Arms up dear."

Sarah raised her arms above her head, feeling the air move across her breasts as she did so. The young girl was so glad it was warm in here. Her nipples were small and pink and sat just a little bit above the middle of her breast, but when they got hard it was entirely different. She had looked it up on the internet and not all girls nipples got hard like hers, but when they did they moved her whole breast a little and they ended up pointing a little upwards. Sarah thought it was kind of cute, like they were saluting the sky, after she had gotten over her initial embarrassment about them. If they got hard in front of someone else though, she would just die.

She felt the tape go around her chest just under her breasts, then again around her breasts themselves, scraping her nipples as it did so. Mrs Goodwin hummed to herself as she worked, measuring the teen girl’s body.

"Arms out to the side."

Sarah complied and the tape went right up in her armpit and along the underside of her arm and then again from the top of her shoulder along the top of her arm to her wrist. As soon as this was finished Sarah stood back to attention. This elicited a smile from Harper, she was finally learning.

The tape next snaked around her throat and then around her forehead.

"Feet together."

Sarah stepped her feet together, very conscious of her thighs touching and finally hiding her sex. She felt the tape from her hipbone down to her ankle and then she felt the hand of Mrs Goodwin intrude between her thighs. Sarah almost jumped as she felt the tape brush past her downy pubic hair and touch the inside of her left thigh. and then be drawn all the way down to her ankle. Sarah felt herself grow uncomfortably warm. She knew her chest and face had just gone bright red and little beads of sweat popped out on her body. Her mind was swirling like a maelstrom. She was losing it.

Sarah felt Mrs Goodwin push the tape between her legs and she shuffled them slightly apart.

"No dear, feet back together for this measurement," Mrs Goodwin said pushing her thighs back together.

Sarah felt the tape loop up over her left breast and come together on her left shoulder. This movement pulled the tape up tight against her sex and Sarah gasped at the gentle touch. The process was repeated for her right shoulder. When Mrs Goodwin was finished she whipped the tape out from between Sarah's legs, the friction along her bare sex making her gasp.

As Mrs Goodwin moved away Sarah stepped back to attention, surprised herself that she had kept the presence of mind despite the confusion the humiliation her measuring had brought. But no one had commented on her blushing, no one had even noticed.

"Now left foot up dear."

Sarah lifted her left foot slightly off the ground, trying to balance herself with her hands behind her back was not easy. Very quickly however she felt her foot held by Mrs Goodwin and placed down onto a cold metal surface. Sarah soon realised it was one of those machines used to measure your foot. The same thing was done with her right foot and then Mrs Goodwin disappeared behind the counter.

When she was gone, Sarah could feel Harper walk around her. Her blush intensified, something she did not think possible. She knew her whole body was being scrutinised.

Harper liked what she saw. The milky white skin of this young girl was almost flawless. She had a small mole between her shoulder blades and another just above her bellybutton but other than that she was like porcelain. No tan lines at all, strange. She thought all Americans had tans.

Her ass was well rounded but petite, her legs were slim but quite toned. She had a rather boyish waist though, it wasn't really much narrower than her hips. Harper didn't pay much notice to her vagina, not interested, but her breasts were really nice. Tiny pink nipples almost topping them, she had not seen breasts like this before. Hers were larger, C while Sarah's were B, and her nipples were large and kind of indistinct. Harper would kill for these tiny nipples with well defined areola and little nubs like erasers.

Done with her inspection, Harper walked back to the counter to wait for Mrs Goodwin. She didn't want to be caught inspecting the new girl like that. She didn't want any rumours of her being a lesbian to start floating around the school.

"Okie doke. I think we have everything here," stated Mrs Goodwin upon her return. She wheeled a trolley out from behind the counter, upon which was piled clothes and a number of assorted boxes.

"Now Porter, you are being assigned these items as part of your uniform and they are now your responsibility. Your uniform comprises one part of your student kit. Ok, we will go through your uniform as you dress so you understand each piece, the correct way in which it is to be worn and the proper care of each item."

"First, seven pairs of knee socks, white. One pair for each day of the week, Saturday is laundry day by the way."

Each item was sealed in a plastic bag and Mrs Goodwin now broke open one bag of socks and handed them to the girl. She was standing off to one side of Sarah who was still obediently facing her eyes ahead and could not quite see the movement.

"Good girl Porter, but Mrs Goodwin is handing you something. When you hear her open each bag you may look to the item as it is handed to you," Harper commanded.

"Thank you Miss Harper." Sarah felt it best to thank her handler for this kindness in helping her not make a fool of herself and another member of staff. She desperately wanted to get this girl on side.

Sarah looked down to the pair of white socks being offered to her, reached out to take them and proceeded to put them on.

"Oh my god. You really make me regret helping you spunk. Apologies for my language Mrs Goodwin, but she is really trying. Now spunk I don't know what it's like in whatever broken-home ghetto neighbourhood you come from but when someone gives you something you thank them," sighed the exasperated Harper. Sarah just hung her head in shame.

"Sorry Miss Harper."

"Don't apologise to me dunce, apologise to Mrs Goodwin."
"Sorry Mrs Goodwin."

"Right, infraction seven. Sorry Mrs Goodwin but we already let that slide once and I don't think kindness is a great learning tool and she is going to need all the help she can get."
"I tend to agree with you Clarice. Please hand the socks back to me Porter and we shall try that one again shall we."

Sarah dejectedly handed the socks back. She was trying her best but failing abysmally. She had to get her brain into gear. Start thinking smart, well start thinking fullstop would be a good start. She took a deep breath and reached out again for the waiting pair of socks.

"Thank you Ma'am," said the dejected teen timidly. Sarah bent over at the waist and slid each white sock over her foot and then up her leg. She found they came up almost to the bottom of her knee, she had never owned socks like this before. There was an elasticised band at the top of the sock to keep them up over her calf. Sarah found it strangely wonderful just to be wearing anything at all, and she had really only been nude for a short time. It just made you realise how wonderful and powerful clothes were. Sarah was back at attention and just not having the hard floor directly under her feet was a wonder.

"I think we need to get that hair out of the way. So much easier to dress. Here Porter, you will be issued with two elastic hair bands, blue. Wrap that hair into a ponytail so it doesn't get in the way."

"Thank you Ma'am." Sarah reached out and took the small hair band, gathered up her shoulder-blade length, shiny brown hair and wrapped the band around it once, then twice. She pulled the hair behind the band apart, tightening it up and creating a pretty ponytail high on the back of her head."

"Now as I said, one pair a day. They are to be worn so as to come two inches below the knee. You will also be issued with five pairs of gym socks, white, but they can remain bagged for now. Next, shoes. Once again you will be issued with gym shoes as well as regular footwear. These are your gym shoes, try them on."

Sarah looked down and took the proffered shoes, "Thank you Ma'am." Out of the corner of her eye Sarah saw Harper throw her hands in the air like a hallelujah.

It made Sarah feel good, not only had she done something right but it really seemed like Harper was harsh only because she wanted her to succeed and so far Sarah had let her down. Miss Harper, she admonished herself. Miss Harper. You have to start thinking right or the wrong thing is just going to pop out.

Sarah squatted down to try the shoes on, noting that her gym shoes were black leather lace up shoes with a soft springy sole, not sneakers like she had been expecting.

"No, no, no, no, no. Porter, slatterns squat down, you bend over when you put your shoes on. Now hand them back to Mrs Goodwin and try again."

Sarah knew everyone was getting frustrated with her. And if it was something she had learned at home, when people are frustrated with you, they start to get angry. She was really going to have to do better, but how was she to know that squatting down was the wrong thing to do, at least she didn't get an infraction. This just reinforced Sarah’s good opinion of Miss Harper.

Sarah handed back the shoes, went back to standing at attention and then took them back again, thanking Mrs Goodwin. She then bent at the waist and a little at the knee, the least she could, and popped first one shoe on and then the next. She was immediately aware of how exposed this position made her. She needed to spread her legs to do it and her buttocks stuck right out, exposing her vagina from behind, she knew what this looked like, having played around in front of mirrors like any teen girl. She quickly laced up the shoes and stood at attention.

"Ok my dear, walk around the room a few times to get used to them to make sure they fit," smiled Mrs Goodwin.

Sarah began to walk around the edge of the room, her every move watched. She hoped to god she was walking correctly. Sarah thought it was strange that this was her first thought, instead of what she looked like, naked but for socks and shoes, her breasts bouncing slightly with each step. Why was she being dressed from the ground up? Why not...

"How does that feel dear?"

"Good thank you Ma'am," replied Sarah. And they did. The soles were surprisingly springy and she felt they would be great for running or any kind of gym work.

"Try standing on your tiptoes." Sarah did and found her foot moved not at all in the snug shoes.

"Now jump up and down a few times."

Sarah looked at Mrs Goodwin in despair. She knew what this would look like and what effect it would have. Sarah had always had sensitive nipples and her breasts moving erratically had always caused her nipples to stiffen. But Mrs Goodwin looked on only with concern for the shoes fitting correctly so Sarah steeled herself and jumped on the spot twice. Thankfully this was not enough to trigger her embarrassing nipples.

"They feel very good Ma'am."

"Ok now do some steps at the bench along the wall, right then left a few times to make sure they don't move at the heel." Sarah followed the instructions obediently, feeling her downy pubic hair brush her thighs as her vagina opened slightly each time she extended her leg and stepped up to the bench.

"Any movement dear?"

"No Ma'am."

"I don't know why you even bother asking Mrs Goodwin. You are so good at this. I remember you fitting me perfectly too."

"Well Clarice dear I take pride in my work. Ok Porter back here and take off those shoes and try on your everyday footwear."

Sarah walked back to the centre of the room and removed the shoes making sure to bend at the waist. She knew she was exposing her behind and vagina to anyone who might walk past the doorway but there was nothing she could do. She handed the shoes back to Mrs Goodwin who replaced them on the trolley.

"Ok dear here is your next item. Lovely shoes if I do say so myself."

Sarah reached out for the next item. She managed to get out a distracted "Thank you Ma'am" as she took the shoes. They were a shiny black with a thick four inch heel, a strap across the top of the foot and another buckle strap around the ankle. Sarah had never worn heels in her life, well once as a dress up to see how sexy she looked but she hadn't really walked in them.

"Oh I know dear," sighed Mrs Goodwin. "Aren't they lovely? Look even Clarice is jealous. They are great for the posture and will help you to no end in your deportment lessons."

Sarah bent over once again and placed the first shoe on her left foot and did up both straps, needing to stand on tiptoes on her right foot to keep her balance. She repeated the process for her right shoe and stood up to attention. She was not looking forward to doing circuits of the room to test these out. Her calves started to strain almost immediately, she just was not used to wearing shoes like this.

"Oh yes, lovely. You will be given the proper kit to keep these clean and sparkling but we can go into that later. You only have the one pair of shoes so take good care of them. At the end of the term you can come back and be refitted as I know you are still a growing girl. Ok?"

"Yes Ma'am," replied the stunned teen, flexing the muscles in her thighs and calves trying her best to acquaint herself with this new sensation of being so high off the ground.

"Now panties. You will receive seven pairs of panties, white and five pairs of gym panties, blue. We need not worry about those gym panties, they can go unopened with the socks. Here, one pair of panties, white."

Sarah looked and took the panties from Mrs Goodwin.

"Thank you Ma'am," the young girl almost groaned. Panties! There was hardly any material there at all. What she had been given was a tiny white g-string with a back strap so thin it was barely as wide as her finger. The crotch was a tiny triangle only three inches wide that branched up in thin strips to go around her hips. It would cover her sex sure, but only just. Sarah hesitated, holding the minute piece of material in her palm. She could screw it up in her hand so it was no bigger than a golf ball.

She slowly unravelled the panties, trying to make sure they did not get tangled again. She slid the tiny garment up her legs and seated it snugly against her skin. The material caressed her crotch but she knew it would not cover her pubic hair, this was one time she was glad she did not have much, it must look terrible. She knew there was a thin band between her buttocks but it felt like there was nothing there at all.

"I know that must seem a strange part of the uniform but you will realise in time what a blessing they truly are," observed Mrs Goodwin.

Sarah had no idea what she was talking about but respectfully reserved the right to disagree.

"And did you notice dear, they are all one piece of material, so no seams. They are about 40% cotton blended with some great synthetic fibres that give them that great nice snug fit, silky feel and ability to breathe. Do you like them dear?"

"Yes Ma'am," replied Sarah, though she wasn't too sure she did. They felt very smooth, almost silky but they gently hugged her every contour like a second skin. She still really felt like she had nothing on at all.

"Now for a bra, I guess you will be glad for one of those hey. I know your breasts aren't as large as Clarice's here," at this both girls blushed, "but even B cups need support. Now these bras are the best designed for growing breasts. They support but do not confine. You will be issued with three bras for everyday wear and five sports bras, which are much less fitted and we won't need to try on here. So three support bras, blue and five sports bras, blue."

Sarah reached out for the next item of her uniform. It was not immediately apparent what was wrong but as soon as she had straightened it out she felt a sinking feeling in the put of her stomach.

"Thank you Ma'am,' she said as she stared at the half cup blue bra. Sarah had to admit it was very pretty, a deep blue, the colour of the Harkwood uniform and the cup was trimmed with blue lace. As she went to put it on she noticed that it also clipped in the front. The design was quite ingenious, the clasps being hidden behind a layer of soft material. She unclipped the bra and shrugged into it. This was new for Sarah and she wasn't quite sure exactly how to fit it properly.

She decided to clasp the cups together and then slip them down past her breasts and then bring them up. It worked pretty well, as the straps were a slightly elastic, but her breasts were a little squashed and she had to cup each one and lift it up to settle them comfortably.

"Yes very nice my dear. The straps have spandex in them so they have a bit more give. Feel how they support each breast and how they leave the main part of the breast and the nipple free. No pressure, means more comfort and a lot of room for growing. Biggest mistake most girls make."

Sarah wasn't too interested in the future health of her breasts just then. She felt like her whole breast was still exposed. All this 'bra' really did was push her boobs up slightly. Sarah stood still, trembling as Mrs Goodwin fussed about the bra, adjusting the straps slightly and checking to see that her breasts sat in the cups properly.

"There now, that is fitted perfectly. You won't need to make any further adjustments until the end of term. Do you feel how perfectly your breasts sit my dear? See under the breast, the material of the cup lifts and sits tight to your skin, none of that nasty slippage or pinching. And definitely none of that nasty peeking out underneath that underwire bras can cause. Comfortable aren't they?”

"Yes Mrs Goodwin, they are very comfortable." Sarah could not believe she was discussing her breasts with this woman. She was mortified though she did have to admit that the bra was easily the most comfortable she had ever worn, if she didn't feel so terribly expose she could happily wear it.

"I know it can be hard to believe that a half cup like this can provide better support, so many girls are incredulous. Just bounce up and down a few times, dear, you will see. Just bounce, I know that jumping in those lovely shoes might not be the easiest thing."

Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath, instantly aware that this pushed her breasts out even further. She hung her head in shame, bent her knees slightly and bounced up and down on the spot three times.

"Head up Porter, you are likely to fall over doing that. You are still at attention you know,” snapped Harper.

"See dear," beamed Mrs Goodwin, "the breasts are allowed full movement but they always come to rest perfectly in the cups, exactly where they started. A truly brilliant design."

Sarah stood perfectly still. She had to simply assume that Mrs Goodwin was right. Her breasts still felt perfectly comfortable even though she knew they had moved, and moved quite a lot. Her breasts were only B, though she knew they were closing in on C, how did those girls with much bigger boobs deal with it.

Then she felt it. Sarah squeezed her eyes closed for just an instant and tried to think of boring things like calculus problems. She had felt her nipples begin to harden, that bouncing had done it. Sarah’s focus was a little off as she tried her hardest to halt the tightening of her nipples, she knew with some girls you could hardly tell but there was no mistaking when hers got hard, but she heard Mrs Goodwin start talking.

"Now for your skirt. You will be issued with three skirts, pleated, blue. This is a little different from the skirts you might be used to. It wraps around, but this has been fitted quite exactly and there is just the one small clip that fastens it. Easily removed with just the one hand but quite secure."

Sarah reached out, took the skirt and thanked Mrs Goodwin. As she was studying the skirt and locating the clip, Harper stepped behind her.

"Mrs Goodwin I don't think she is used to skirts at all. She is American remember, they don't even have uniforms over there."
"Ah, I had heard that. Is this true Porter?"
"Yes Ma'am," Sarah replied as she wrapped the pleated skirt around her waist and fastened the clip, glad finally to have some real clothes.

"What did you usually wear to school then, my dear," asked the inquisitive older lady.

"Um just whatever Ma'am. Jeans and shirts mostly."

"How positively vulgar, young ladies dressing like that at a place of learning no less. Well you are here now and a uniform is a very important part of school life. It allows the student to focus on the studies and not obsess about fashion and other trivial things."

Yeah right, thought Sarah. If anything she was focusing more on what she was wearing then she ever had in her entire life.

"Now the skirt is designed to fit so that it sits ten inches above the knee. Socks two inches below the knee, skirt ten inches above, you would do well to remember that," said Mrs Goodwin as she took out her tape and measured this distance between sock and skirt at each knee. "See I knew as soon as you put that skirt on, it was wrong. You have it entirely too high. Did you not feel that it was loose? Silly girl, the way you have it you would be flashing half the school."

Mrs Goodwin moved behind Sarah and unclasped the skirt, lowered it so that it fit perfectly around her hipbones and refastened it. Now it sat snug against Sarah's hips, falling straight down in front and pouting out behind her as it met her buttocks. The material was soft but a little stiff and it flared out a little behind her.

Sarah's blush continued to deepen at her continued inability to get the simplest things right. But at least I managed to get my nipples under control, she thought triumphantly. Thank you calculus!

"Blouse. You will be issued seven blouses, white."

Sarah reached out and was relieved to see it was a standard white school blouse, like any other she had ever seen. It buttoned up the front with pretty white flower buttons. It had a stiff collar and a band at the waist that also looked a little stiff. Sarah thanked Mrs Goodwin and proceeded to put the blouse on. As she slid her arms through each sleeve she noticed how this movement accentuated her exposed breasts. She hurriedly buttoned the blouse, noticing at the same time how short the sleeves were. They only came a few inches down her arm and were a very snug fit.

When she was finished Sarah stood back at attention. It was only as she straightened up that she realised how tight the blouse was. The sleeves were tight, the somewhat stiff waistband fit perfectly to the top of her skirt, but across her chest the blouse pulled and strained slightly. Sarah hoped this was just because she had her hands behind her back but even so, she could feel the fabric push against her nipples.

"Now, don't you look lovely. Last thing we need to add for your everyday uniform is your tie. Unfortunately tradition has fallen a little by the wayside in this regard and this is just a clip-on."

"Thank you Ma'am," Sarah said as she took the last part of her uniform. It was a tiny blue chequered tie with two clips at the top, only some four inches long in total length. She was wondering just how the clips fit but as she raised it she felt two tiny loops of thread under her collar. It was a matter of seconds to clip it and put her hands behind her back once again.

"There now, a real Harkwood girl. Now your hat is not meant to be worn all the time but anytime you leave the building you are expected to be wearing it," Mrs Goodwin said as she placed the straw hat on Sarah's head. "Nice fit, but as you are inside I will place it with the rest of your kit that can go straight to your dorm."

"Last two items we won't need to worry about right now. A leotard for dance and a swimsuit, they can go straight to your dorm. Well uniform fitted and supplied. We had better hurry seeing as it is really getting on. Clarice please put her in cubicle one, we will take the pictures and quickly finish this up so you can get her acquainted with the facilities."

"This way Porter," Harper commanded as she walked to the right, into one of the cubicles.

Sarah's feet had begun to tingle, standing at attention in the one spot in her new shoes for so long. She almost stumbled with her first step but managed to steady herself. By the time she had taken the eight steps to the cubicle she had managed to get somewhat used to the shoes. Her steps were a little smaller than usual but at least she was steady.

"Stand up against this wall."

Sarah moved to attention against the far wall and stared at the pigeonholes across the room. Mrs Goodwin passed in front of her pushing a different trolley.

"OK now we need to take some photos for your school id. Look straight at the camera and smile, just a little." No sooner had Sarah looked at the lens of the large camera Mrs Goodwin had focused on her than, FLASH. She was almost blinded.

"Terrible, you have your eyes closed and there is definitely no smile. Once again."

This time at least Sarah was prepared. She tried to smile as best she could, the little sweet smile her mother had always said was cute. FLASH.

Mrs Goodwin looked at the back of the camera. "Better, you really are a pretty girl Porter. Though that smile is a little too... well provocative. But it is to be expected I suppose."

Provocative? What the hell was she on about, thought Sarah. That was sweet, just sweet.

"Ok, we will go with that. Two minutes to get this card stamped and we should be about done. Clarice be a dear and tag her while I do this."

"Yes Mrs Goodwin," replied Clarice enthusiastically. The prefect grabbed something quickly from the trolley and advanced towards Sarah. She went to her left side and came in very close, Sarah could feel her breath on her left ear.

"Tilt your head to the right," commanded Harper.

Sarah did as she was told, trembling now, not only with the closeness of the other girl but in fear of just what was going on. She shivered as Harper took her left earlobe and gently slid an earring into the waiting hole. Sarah heard a sharp click as Harper applied pressure to the ring. She moved away leaving the stunned girl wondering what had just happened.

"Thank you Clarice, you are such a helpful girl. Right now Porter. Here is your id. I will place it with the rest of your kit as you may have noticed that your uniform does not have any pockets. You are only required to carry your id when you leave the grounds. That's what we have your tag for. I am glad you were already pierced, as I honestly don't relish doing that myself.”

Mrs Goodwin took a hand scanner off the trolley and scanned the barcode on Sarah's school id. She consulted the laptop on the trolley, “Ok, card working." She then walked towards Sarah, leaned in and grabbed the small metal tag that dangled from her left ear. Sarah heard the loud beep as the scanner read the barcode on the tag and she blinked back the tears as she watched Mrs Goodwin walk back to the trolley.

She had been tagged like a piece of livestock. This was disgusting. They weren't even treating her like a person. Telling her what to do and then ignoring her, discussing her as if she wasn't there and now marking her like an animal. It was too much for Sarah and the tears began to run down her cheeks as she felt the small metal tag swinging from her ear.

"The wonders of modern technology hey Clarice. I can't tell you how much easier this has made everyone's job. Now we can keep track of them with a simple computer. And especially for Trinity house. So much less paperwork. Clarice, we may as well add these infractions in now. How many was it?"

"Eight Mrs Goodwin. One was for poor posture, one for impudence and six for disobedience," Harper replied succinctly.

"Very good. All entered. Now Porter your permanent record can be updated from either your ID, which you won't carry very often, or your ID tag, which will remain with you every minute you are a student at Harkwood. The ring is permanently closed and will need to be cut off when you graduate. Many girls like to keep it as a memento, but that is really up to your patron."

"Ok Clarice you can take her to the nurse now. I let Miss Sharp know you would be coming so she should be ready for you. Porter, the other items of your kit will be waiting for you in your dorm. The most important piece is your School Manual. This details all the rules of Harkwood and you will need to familiarise yourself with it from back to front."

"Thanks Mrs Goodwin. See you later, come on Porter."

"Thank you Ma'am," said Sarah, curtsying as she had been taught, before she tentatively made her way after Harper.

"My pleasure, it was nice to meet you Porter. You are now officially a student at Harkwood College."

Chapter 3. In which Sarah undergoes a physical

Sarah hurried as best she could out of the room and after her handler. She was still struggling a little with the heels and Miss Harper was moving so fast. She had to take very fast mincing, almost running, steps to catch up to her. As she caught up to the older girl she slowed down and began to walk at a more comfortable pace. Every now and then she took a slight misstep but she was definitely getting used to the new shoes.

"You walk two steps behind me and slightly to my left Porter. That is your position. Keep to it and I don't have to worry where you are. If I have to look for you, ever, you will regret it."

"Yes Miss Harper," Sarah breathlessly replied.

As she settled into a more normal speed and a more natural gait she realised it was anything but normal. The high heels of the shoes caused her to swing her hips a little more than usual and she could feel her skirt swish around the backs of her thighs with each step. It was also causing her breasts to move much more than normal, though Sarah was sure the lack of a proper bra was exacerbating that. As her nipples incessantly brushed against the stiff fabric of her blouse she felt them harden slightly and then fully tighten. It happened so quickly she didn't even have a chance to fight it.

Sarah almost stopped to try and arrest the motion of her blouse against her now rock hard nipples. She snuck a glimpse at her chest and was horrified to see the perfect outline of her nipple and areola through the white blouse, it was like someone had just draped tracing paper over her breasts. The movement was constant, each step brought a slight tensing of the blouse. She knew that as long as she was moving, her nipples had no chance of going down. Her face was so hot she felt like she had a fever.

So focused was Sarah on her predicament that she bumped into Harper when she stopped, pushing her right breast into the prefect's elbow.

"Porter, what the fuck. Another infraction. We'll add that when we log you in the dorm. Now get inside the fucking office. You have to have a physical, then I have to give you a tour and there is no way you are making me miss my late supper. Move it."

Sarah stepped past her handler and into the office. It was a very clinical room: white tiled floor, white walls with medical charts and blazing white halogen bulbs lighting the entire room amazingly brightly.

The only piece of furniture in the room was a strange table with weird metal legs protruding from it. Sarah felt she had seen something like it before but couldn't quite place it. It was obviously something medical. The young girl started to tremble. She had always hated the doctor and almost fainted at just the idea of a needle. But she tried to calm herself down, telling herself she was probably just here so the nurse could make sure she had no allergies and stuff like that.

She had only just finished her quick scan of the room when a door on the far side opened. Sarah just had time to come to attention and get her eyes forward, but she still managed to get a glimpse of what was no doubt the school nurse. She was beautiful, Sarah could tell that from the split second look she had, that plain white nurses pinafore could not disguise the voluptuous body beneath.

"Right Harper, you can wait in my office, make yourself comfortable. This won't take long, I don't really wish to lose too much of my Sunday night." The woman spoke with such authority, it was not what Sarah had expected from a nurse.

"Thanks Miss Sharp," bubbled Harper as she almost skipped across the room.

"Right Porter, you are here for your physical exam and medical history. I am thorough but I will not dawdle through it so pay attention as I am not in the habit of repeating myself."

"Y...yes Ma'am," stammered the frightened teenager.

"Undress, place your clothes in the far corner," commanded the stern nurse, dismissively indicating the empty corner behind Sarah as she walked out the far door.

Sarah froze, and risked a glance at the back of the nurse as she disappeared through the door. She had only been clothed for maybe five minutes and she was already expected to once again lose that protection. As meagre as her uniform was the time she had already spent naked had made her truly thankful for it.

Sarah snapped herself out of her funk and began to undress. She was alone but it did not make it any easier to remove her clothing. She sniffed back any tears that might possibly start forming and first removed her shoes and socks, one leg at a time, sighing as she stepped out of each high heeled shoe, feeling the relief in her calves as her feet flattened on the cool tile floor. She rolled up each sock and placed it in each shoe. Next she unclipped her tie and placed it on top of her shoes, she realised as she bent down that there was no danger of her clothes getting dirty placed on this floor. It was pristine.

"What do you think you are doing?" boomed Nurse Sharp as she appeared at the door pushing a trolley laden with apparatus.

"Undressing Ma'am," Sarah replied softly, confused and terrified as to what she had done wrong now. Sarah saw Miss Harper appear but she was waved away by the furious nurse.

"I have this Harper. You may be new but ignorance is no defence. Protocol must be followed in all things and the flouting of one rule is a show of disrespect for the whole school, the staff and the other students of the school. Now put those clothes back on and be quick about it."

Sarah hurriedly picked up her tie and fumbled badly as she tried to link the clips into the hoops under her collar. Undress. Get dressed. Sarah was confused beyond belief. Just focus on right now, you can't get bogged down in the past, she told herself. She finally managed to get the tie clipped in, reached for her socks and rolled them back up her legs, then stepped into each shoe and rebuckled the straps. Sarah was a blur of motion as she dressed and stood at attention, waiting to see what she had managed to stuff up now.

"Now Porter, I do realise you are headed for Trinity house, believe me I have seen your kind before, but this does not excuse you from an inability to follow rules and a basic lack of manners. On the contrary it is more important for you than for anyone to get these things right. Don't you agree?"

"Yes Ma'am," replied Sarah. She really did agree though she was sure there was more to what was being said than she could comprehend now. She was tired, flustered and more confused than she had ever been in her life.

"How long ago were you issued your uniform?"
"Um, about ten minutes ago Ma'am."

"About ten minutes? About? You will have to do better than that Porter. There are clocks in every room. Time is an important concept for you. Learn to tell the time and learn to keep time. What is the time now?"

"About five past six Ma'am."
"Fucking, about. You better stop fucking about Porter. You just earned an infraction for wilful disobedience. You don't want too many of those. Now what is the time?"
"Six past six Ma'am," Sarah replied disappointedly. She was really letting herself down. She should have known better, she should have paid more attention to what she was saying. Please Sarah, she begged herself, do better, please.

"I suggest you make sure you know the time you enter a room and the time you leave each room. As I said time is an important concept to grasp, even more so for you Trinnies. Now remember all the way back to 10 minutes ago, remember being issued a uniform. Do you remember the order in which you were issued your uniform?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Simply reverse the order for undressing. Now be quick about it. And Porter don’t just throw the clothes in the corner. You fold them neatly. Well don’t just stand there, I told you to move.”

Sarah flew into motion. She unclipped her tie and placed it on the cool tiles in the corner then furiously began to unbutton her blouse. The whole time she was fumbling with her buttons she could not take her eyes off her nipples pushing against her white blouse, creating tiny dark circles under the white material. She shrugged out of her blouse, turning the tight sleeves inside out as they clung to her arms, arching her back as she did so, forcing her breasts to become even more prominent.

Sarah did not stop for a moment, quickly folding her blouse and then unclipping her skirt, folding that and adding it to the pile. She almost began to pull the straps of her bra off her shoulders before remembering that it clipped in front. She really did have to admit it was a great little item. She would happily wear it all the time if only she could have a t-shirt and jumper over the top. She unclipped her bra and slid the straps down her arms, immediately feeling the loss of support for her breasts.

After placing the bra on the pile she slipped her fingers in the strap of her panties and slid them down her legs. Sarah was so used to folding her panties when she took them off but she always wore full briefs, she didn't own anything else. This g-string however simply rolled up as they went down her legs and once she stepped out of them they almost folded in on themselves. She hurriedly dropped them on the pile, once again feeling the full vulnerability of being naked, her sex able to be seen peeking through her thighs each time she bent over, as she now did to unbuckle and remove her heels and slide her socks off, placing them in her shoes.

The whole process had taken just over a minute. Sarah didn't think she had ever undressed as quickly as that. She almost jumped back up to attention, desperate not to anger this beautiful nurse again. She knew she was imposing on people, on their Sunday night and she so wished she had not stopped off for some sightseeing after her plane landed this morning.

"Finally, we can start. Every student has a full medical workup prior to being admitted to the general school. We don't want any nasty surprises with allergies or any pre-existing medical conditions now do we?"

"No Ma'am," replied the docile teen.

"That was a rhetorical question Porter. That means it is a question that does not require an answer, it is simply posed to make you think. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am," replied the thoroughly humiliated young girl.

She knew what rhetorical meant, but what if she got it wrong and got in trouble for not answering. Even though she felt horrible that someone thought she was stupid it was better than having someone angry at her. She had always been a girl who did her best and tried her hardest and she hated letting people down.

"See you got that right, that was a question directly to you. Good girl."

Even though it was humiliating to be praised like a child stacking blocks, Sarah felt a tiny flush of pleasure inside at pleasing someone and finally having someone happy with her.

"First things first, lets get your file up."

The nurse picked up a small scanner, reached out and tugged gently at the tag dangling from Sarah's left ear. The beep caused Sarah to close her eyes in shame, reminded of the tag she now wore like a farm animal. Her chest and face flushed in embarrassment. One saving grace, thought Sarah, was that maybe the heat from the blush would help her still hard nipples to soften.

"Oh my, you already have eight infractions," exclaimed nurse Sharp. "Adding the one you earned in here and you are going to have a very busy form session in the morning. But let's get on shall we. First what we need to do is take your vitals and perform an extended physical. You will be moving around quite a lot so there is no need to be at attention during the examination, but don't take advantage by slouching like a tramp," explained the nurse as she placed a rough plastic cuff around Sarah's left bicep.

"Arm out straight."

An apprehensive Sarah straightened her arm as the band was tightened and pumped up. With relief she realised she was just having her blood pressure taken. The pressure was soon relieved and the band removed from her arm. Sarah knew she didn't have to be at attention but she wasn't sure what would be considered 'slouching'. She simply put her arms at her side but otherwise stayed standing straight. She made sure not to touch her hips with her hands as it only reminded her how vulnerable and exposed she was in her nudity.

It was so difficult for the young girl to keep her hands at her side. With every moment that passed it became harder and harder to fight the urge to cover her body, one hand across her sex and the other hiding her breasts. She was afraid to move but the feeling of vulnerability was starting to become an obsession.

She let her eyes dart to the trolley that the nurse was returning to. Other than the laptop, Sarah could not really tell what most of the stuff was, some of it being covered by dimpled white medical paper.

She watched the nurse pick up a small black baton like object with a triangular head. She knew what this was as her doctor had used it on her many times. It shone a little light that they used to look in your ears and mouth. The nurse continued her examination in silence, swiftly checking each ear. She returned to the trolley and came back with the standard wooden tongue depressor.

"Mouth open, say aaah," directed Nurse Sharp.

Now the examination had begun she was all business. Her manner was brisk and efficient and Sarah hoped that this would mean the examination would be quick and professional so she could get her uniform back on. Even though this was another woman and she was a medical professional, she still felt terribly uncomfortable being naked in front of her.

"Aaaaaurrrgh," Sarah gagged as the thin piece of wood was placed far back in her mouth and caused her to step back away from the invading object, almost retching in the process.

"Get back here now. What are you some kind of fucking baby. Fucking atrocious behaviour. Move again and I will secure that mouth open," boomed the irate nurse.

She glared at Sarah as she stepped forward again, straightened her back and reopened her mouth. The young girl was terrified now. She had not meant to react that way, it was just so unexpected. She had never had anything shoved so far back in her throat before. She was sure she would do better now that she was ready for it, but she fervently hoped it would not go in as far this time.

The nurse continued to glare at the trembling teen, her head tilted back slightly and her mouth wide open but still with a straight back and in a position almost at attention. The older woman noticed that even though she had relaxed her stance somewhat, with her hands at her sides now, balled into fists, she had still kept her legs shoulder width apart. Maybe she would do ok after all, the nurse thought to herself, though nine infractions accrued in a few hours was very high.

Sarah tensed as she watched wide-eyed as the nurse placed the depressor in her mouth again. She was dismayed to feel it go as far back as before and as it was pressed down against her tongue she tried her best to vocalise.

"Aaaaah," said Sarah as her throat tensed as the nurse shone the small light in her mouth and she fought back the urge to push the nurse away to get this foreign object out of her mouth. As the depressor was removed Sarah gagged slightly, making a choking sound.

"Aaah, what Porter," questioned nurse Sharp. She had decided she would have a little fun with this girl. After all she was giving up her Sunday evening for this.

"Aaaah, Ma'am?" replied Sarah questioningly.

Surely she hadn't been expected to say that. She held her breath as she waited for another tirade or infraction to be added to her list. But the nurse simply moved back to the trolley and clicked away at the laptop.

Sarah watched as her medical chart was filled. She couldn't help but admire the physique of the nurse. She looked like one of those pinup girls from the 50s, curves in all the right places and a bouncy bob of beautiful, thick blonde hair.

With two steps the nurse was back leaning over Sarah, very close. She reached in to her face and pulled open Sarah's right eyelid, causing her to stare, unable to close her eyes.

"Look straight ahead," demanded the nurse. Sarah did as she was told as the light was shone directly into her eye. "Look left, now right. Up. Down." The nurse spoke the commands with no emotion, as if she was talking to a dog. The process was repeated with her left eye and when the nurse walked away Sarah was left blinking furiously, her entire field of vision filled with burst of amorphous yellow and orange shapes.

Sarah hadn't realised the nurse was back until she felt her warm hands around her throat. The confused teen was startled by this unexpected touch, but it was gentle. Nurse Sharp was pushing softly on the sides of Sarah's neck, up under her ears and following her jaw line down. Gentle pressure but insistent. Sarah started to relax, the soft warm hands a comfort to her.

With almost no space in between the nurse placed a stethoscope to the bewildered teen’s chest. Sarah jumped slightly as the cold metal head was placed against her left breast. Almost instantly Sarah's nipples rehardened. She felt her breasts move slightly as her nipples tightened and perceptibly moved upwards. She dared a glance at the face of Nurse Sharp and saw an eyebrow raise in question. Oh god, the horrified teen thought to herself, now she thinks I am some kind of pervert or lesbian or something.

"Breathe in and out slowly until I tell you to stop, full deep breaths," directed the nurse.

Sarah breathed in as deeply and slowly as she could, then let the breath out the same way. She continued this as the nurse moved the head of the stethoscope from breast to breast, high on her chest and low, at one point the stethoscope head and the nurse’s hand lay nestled underneath Sarah’s breast.  She then moved around behind her and moved the stethoscope around her back in the same manner.

Sarah then felt the hands of the nurse on her back. They were warm and smooth and she relaxed at the comforting touch. She felt a sharp tap on her back, then another. This was repeated a number of times before the nurse moved back in front of her.

Sarah was still breathing in and out slowly. She was not sure how long she could keep it up as she was getting a little lightheaded. She was then shocked to feel the hands of the nurse on her breasts. The tapping started again, first her left breast then her right. With each tap her breast jiggled and rippled with the force. Sarah tried to tell herself not to be bothered but she had never, ever had another person touch her bare breasts. She hadn't been to the doctor for an exam since they had started to develop. She felt it was wrong but it wasn't like it was sexual. It was medical. She tried to tell herself to stop being silly.

Finally the nurse moved back to the trolley, clicked away at the laptop and then placed a compact glass set of scales on the floor in front of her.

"You can stop the deep breathing now. Step up on the scale and stand still."

Sarah was grateful for being told to stop the deep breaths. She had started to feel quite dizzy. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch and breathing like that was almost too much. She stepped up on the scales, placed her feet together and stood stock still. It was a strange sensation to feel her thighs touching. She hadn't been really aware of it too much before but it only deepened the sense of exposure she had been feeling while standing with her legs so far apart.

"Step off. You could lose a kilo or two but the BMI will tell us more," stated the nurse.

Sarah was a little annoyed. She was slim, always had been. It wasn't that she exercised that much, or dieted. She just watched what she ate. She definitely didn't need to lose any weight.

Sarah's side, just above her hip, was pinched by a pair of plastic callipers, then again at her belly, just beside her bellybutton. Then she felt a tape measure being placed around her waist, above her hips, and then again around her hips across her pubis. She felt the nurses hands scrape across her downy pubic hair and groaned inwardly at the intimate touch. Her naked body was being poked and prodded like a slab of unfeeling meat and she just couldn't accept that this was alright, that it was normal.

"Over against the wall and face out. Heels, buttocks, back and head flush against the wall."

Sarah quickly stepped across the room, noticing thin blacks marks on the wall marking out a height chart that she hadn't noticed before. The nurse came over and took the measurement and went back to the trolley.

She watched as the nurse turned around with a small camera in her hand. She heard the telltale click as the camera took a number of pictures of her naked form. The poor teen was mortified. Now they had naked pictures of her. She had heard all the stories at school of other girls sending pictures to their boyfriends or even doing stripteases on their webcams but Sarah had never thought of ever doing anything like that. The most she had ever done was dance in front of her mirror, but always clothed. They shouldn't be allowed to take pictures of her naked body. She was just about to open her mouth to protest when the nurse cut her off.

"Right, back in the centre of the room and run on the spot until I tell you to stop."

Sarah moved back to the centre of the room, a little more slowly than before. She did not want to do this. Running naked was not ladylike, not like anything else she had done naked was, bending over and baring her vagina to the world each time she got dressed for instance. She didn't really feel like she had any alternative though. Everything had happened so fast, she had just been swept along on the wave of humiliation and didn't quite know how to get off. She took one deep breath and started to jog on the spot, barely lifting her feet off the floor.

"I said run, not flop around like some terminally ill retard."

Sarah cringed and ran harder. She lifted her feet higher off the ground and moved faster, truly running on the spot. She felt like an idiot but it didn't take her long before she had to focus on her breathing and keeping up the pace, more than how she felt and what she looked like. She may be slim but she was definitely not a fit girl. Her breathing began to be laboured and a thin sheen of sweat broke out all over her body. The bouncing motion of her breasts was keeping her nipples hard enough to cut glass. After only a couple of minutes her speed began to slow and her steps began to falter.

"You are terribly unfit young lady. You should be able to keep that pace up for a good ten minutes. You can stop running and we will see how your heart rate has changed," said the nurse as she advanced once again with the stethoscope. Sarah had stopped running and stood as still as she could to let the nurse get accurate readings. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled for breath.

"Terribly unfit," the nurse tutted to herself as she listened to Sarah's increased heart rate.

"OK, get up on the table and hang your legs over the end," said the nurse as she entered the latest data into Sarah's medical evaluation.

Sarah trotted over to the strange table and popped up onto the cool leather, dangling her bent legs off the end. She took this opportunity to look at the table in more detail. It looked like a cross between a chair and a table really. She noticed that it had two strange metal protrusions at the end, she was sitting between them and the chair itself could obviously be moved to a full reclining position. It looked kind of like a dentists chair but not really.

Nurse Sharp came over and tapped each knee with a hard little triangular hammer, making each of Sarah's knees jump out from the table. Sarah, smiled to herself. She had often done the same thing with a ruler when she was bored at school. It was kind of fun how your body could do things on its own. Kind of like my nipples, she thought to herself, instantly removing the smile that had brightened her pretty face.

"Now before we move on it's time for a little Q and A. When are you due for your period?"

Sarah thought a little before she answered.

"Towards the end of the month Ma'am."

"Well that's a long period of time Porter, when exactly?"
"Um I am not sure Ma'am. Usually towards the end, maybe the last couple of days."

"Are you telling me you don't keep track of your periods?"

"Um, no Ma'am. I mean yes Ma'am. I do but I just don't..."
"Stop babbling," spat the incredulous nurse. "You obviously have little regard for your body, I find it hard to believe you cannot narrow down your period to more than the 'end of the month'. You may as well have said, sometime each month. Bloody hopeless. Well at least tell me what they are usually like."

Sarah was more confused than before. Did other girls know the exact time each month they would have their period? She was sure hers didn't come the exact same day each month anyway. And she wasn't sure what the question meant now, and she was deathly afraid of giving another stupid answer.

"Um, they are usually not too bad. Only a little painful and I get some cramps and ah my..." Sarah bit her lip as she tried to explain, "my um, my nipples get quite tender Ma'am."

Tears began to well in Sarah's eyes as she heard the nurse sigh, knowing she had once again said the wrong thing. How was it possible she was being so stupid?

"What are your periods like Porter? Heavy days, light days, how long do they last? That is the information I need to know, not the difference you notice when your boyfriend plays with your nipples."

Sarah was mortified. She almost blurted out that she didn't have a boyfriend but she caught herself in time. Instead she thought about the question before answering. She figured it was important if the nurse was asking as part of her medical exam and if she was not truthful it might go bad for her in the future.

"Um I usually have one light day and then a heavy day and than another light day. And usually nothing after that at all Ma'am," Sarah replied, quite confident she had been as accurate and truthful as she could remember.

"Sexual partners?"

Sarah just sat there. She told herself she wasn't even sure that was a question, though she knew deep down it was. She just didn't want to answer it. She should not be ashamed, hell she should actually be proud.

"I am a virgin Ma'am," Sarah said softly, though with a hint of pride in her voice.

"Bloody hell," exclaimed the nurse. She was sure that all teenagers from America were sexually active. The country may pretend to be overly prudish on the surface but all this did was hide the bubbling hotbed of sexual proclivity. Well, this is the first American virgin Trinity house has seen for many a year she thought to herself. Definitely in my tenure.

"Well we will see. Lie back on the chair and put your feet up in the stirrups."

The mention of the words stirrups jogged something in Sarah's brain. She had been so dense. She was sitting in a gynaecologists chair, the weird metal things were stirrups and her feet were supposed to go in them. Her feet were supposed to go in them and they would expose her terribly. Open her sex terribly.

Sarah took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. As soon as she had done so she realised the stirrups needed to be swung around in front of the chair. She straightened up, swung each stirrup around in front of the chair and lay back. Sarah closed her eyes and talked herself into putting her feet in the stirrups. It's a medical exam, it's a medical exam. She's a nurse, she's a nurse, she repeated to herself.

Her mantra was interrupted as she felt her left foot yanked out and placed in the stirrup. Her eyes flashed open to see the nurse grab her right foot and pull it forcefully outwards and place it in the remaining stirrup. She watched as the nurse pulled her legs further down the stirrups and it was only then Sarah realised they weren't meant for her feet but the backs of her lower calf would rest on them, her feet dangling over the end. The helpless teen watched as the nurse drew a Velcro strap around each ankle, securing her legs firmly into the stirrups.

Sarah groaned in horror as the nurse stepped between her stretched legs and pushed them further apart. She kept pushing until Sarah heard a click from each side. Her legs were now obscenely spread and her knees were pushed back towards her chest creating a splayed M shape. Sarah could feel the air across her vagina and cringed at the sight she knew she must make. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relax.

Suddenly Sarah jerked her left leg hard. Her foot almost jerked out of the stirrup but it was held firmly in place by the Velcro strap. Her eyes flicked open to see the nurse now moving to her right foot, a small metal wand in her hand. She felt the touch again on her right foot. The nurse gently swished the wand up her foot from heel to toe and Sarah's right leg jerked this time, once again barely moving, her foot tightly bound by the Velcro strap. Sarah kept her eyes fixed on the nurse now, she didn't want any more surprises.

She watched down her body, over the twin mounds of her flattened breasts and heaving stomach as the nurse wheeled a small stool between her legs, watched as Nurse Sharp put on white surgical gloves and watched as she leaned in towards her obscenely spread sex.

Sarah's eyes snapped shut as she felt the gloved fingers prod her the intimate area between her legs, she couldn't watch this. She felt the fingers run across the outside of her lips, rubbing her stubbly pubic hair, then gently push her labia apart. She felt her most private of lips being pulled apart, then she yelped a little when she felt her small inner labia also being manipulated. It was over in moments, the nurse didn't linger, she had a job to do, but the clinical way in which she had been violated left the young girl trembling in fear.

Sarah sighed with relief and wiped the burgeoning tears from her eyes. She opened them in time to see the nurse pick up a weird metal instrument, then proceed to pour a thick, clear syrupy liquid over the two long metal tongues.

Sarah closed her eyes and tensed. She knew what it was, she knew what was going to happen. She began to sob a little, her shoulders jerking and her breasts bouncing gently as she lay back on the leather gynaecological chair.

Her whole body tensed as she waited for the ultimate humiliation. Sarah jumped and jerked her feet in the stirrups when the cold metal touched her delicate labia. With one quick, deft motion nurse Sharp had the speculum inside the trembling teen's vagina. Once fully inserted the nurse opened the tongues, spreading the vagina, and locked them in place. She picked up a small plastic instrument similar to a chopstick but with a flared paddle on the end. With this she prodded the inner walls of Sarah's vagina as the teen squirmed in discomfort.

"Well there you have it," Nurse Sharp said with surprise. "Your hymen is intact and you have a healthy vagina as well. You would be surprised how many girls have problems down here."

Sarah felt odd lying back, totally exposed and having the nurse converse with her in this way. But there was also a little relief. She hadn't spoken for some time and Sarah had been a little afraid that she had thought her a liar when she had mentioned she was a virgin.

"How often do you masturbate?"

"Um," Sarah answered and clammed up. She knew she had to answer but her brain was having a hard time cooperating, preoccupied as it was with going over and over the humiliating position she was in: naked, legs spread, vagina spread open by some infernal piece of metal and then being asked to reveal her most private of acts.

"Now if you tell me you don't masturbate, I will know that you are lying. I want you out of here in ten minutes so hurry up."

"Only about once a week Ma'am," Sarah replied through her sobs.

"And how do you do this," inquired the nurse as she released the tongues of the speculum and removed it from the crying teen’s sex.

"With my fingers Ma'am."
"Never with anything else?"
"No Ma'am," Sarah replied with trepidation as she sniffled her runny nose.

She did not have to volunteer how often she had thought about using her hairbrush and had even inserted it just a little a few times but never actually used it to masturbate, so she didn't tell a lie technically.

Sarah heard the twin tearing sounds of the Velcro straps being undone and her whole body relaxed in relief, sure that this was a sign her ordeal was over.

"Back in the centre of the room," commanded the nurse as she removed the gloves and threw them on the trolley. "Just one more exam and we are finished."

Sarah had managed to get her crying under control before it turned into a full bout of body wracking sobs. The relief that this ordeal was nearly over was enough to calm her down. Medical exam or not this had been the most humiliating experience of her life. How did women go through this all the time, and with male doctors as well? She knew she was just being silly, it was just that the day had been so overwhelming.

"At attention now Porter. We are almost finished and we are now back to normal rules," directed the nurse as she stepped in close behind the defeated teen.

Sarah gritted her teeth as felt the nurses warm hands encircle her left breast. Sarah grunted as Nurse Sharp began to squeeze her breast, from the outside moving inwards and compressing the breast meat until her hands met over her nipples which she squeezed hard between thumb and fingers. She repeated the process again on her left breast and moved around behind the teen to replicate it on the right.

Sarah's mind was whirling. She had put up with a lot but what the hell was this for. She had heard of breast exams and she had done one on herself once though she knew it was not necessary but she was sure this hard squeezing, almost milking motion, was not the way in which they were done. It also hurt and this made her reel a little. Everything else had been degrading but nothing had actually hurt. It was a strange sensation that Sarah found hard to digest.

"No discharge, good," said the nurse to herself as she went back to the trolley and entered the final piece of information into Sarah Porter's medical history.

Discharge? Sarah had no idea what she was talking about. She would have loved to have asked, as far as she knew the only time anything came from the breast was when you were pregnant and then that was normal. Was that a pregnancy test? If so it would have to be one of the most inaccurate in history, Sarah thought to herself. The young girl just stood there at attention staring at the far wall hoping and hoping that her time in this room was at an end.

"Samples and we are done. Open wide." Sarah snapped her mouth wide as Nurse Sharp opened a plastic test tube. The lid had a long cotton-tipped swab attached on its underside. This she used to swab the inside of Sarah's cheeks. She then handed Sarah a small plastic cup with a screw top.

"Fill that to the line and not over and we are done. I can get on with my night, or what is left of it, and you can take up someone else's time."

Sarah took the offered plastic container. She just looked at it, then looked at both doors.

"What are you waiting for? Are you deliberately trying to annoy me Porter?"
"No Ma'am. Um Ma'am please, where is the toilet?" asked the desperate girl.

"Toilet, what are you on about. Fill the cup where you stand. I am not asking you to piss a gallon, just fill the cup. Is that too much to ask?"

"No Ma'am," Sarah replied timidly.

Sarah unscrewed the cap from the small container. She slowly lowered the plastic cup between her legs and moved it tight up against her sex, she needed to move her legs a little wider to do this comfortably. She knew she must look lewd and ridiculous but she had to make sure she didn't spill any on the floor, or God on her hands, it wasn't like she had any control over it after all. She couldn't believe she had been asked to pee right out in the middle of the room, and with another person in the room. She couldn't believe that she was actually going to do it!

Sarah stood in the centre of the sterile white room, holding the cup up between her legs and waited. She had not been to the toilet since lunch, and it had been quite a long taxi ride here but still she couldn't go. She knew she needed to go, she had actually thought of asking Miss Harper on the way if they could stop but she hadn't dared. And now it seemed she had some stage fright. She knew it was just that she was nervous, standing naked in the middle of a room and expected to urinate into a cup.

Sarah desperately wanted to pee. The longer it took the more nervous and agitated she became. Her legs began to tremble a little, the strain from standing with them spread was starting to show. She heard the nurse walk towards her, stopping just behind her back. Sarah could not see her but she could feel her presence. The poor girl began to panic, tensing her muscles trying desperately to pee. She cringed, waiting for the tirade about wasting time that she knew was coming.

"Relax Porter. You will never give me what I want like that. You have 4 minutes to fill that cup and honestly it doesn't take much to fill. So relax and pee like a good girl. But believe me, take more than the allotted time and I will have to obtain the sample through other means," warned the nurse, now speaking directly into Sarah’s left ear, close enough that the movement of warm air had sent shivers down her left side, causing goosebumps to appear along her body.

Instantly Sarah began to pee, she was not sure what had removed that mental block but she thought it most likely it was the involuntary shivers that the nurse had caused with her deliciously warm breath.

The embarrassed teen heard the loud splattering noise as her urine hit the hard plastic bottom of the cup. She felt the splashback as her pee hit the surface with great force. Sarah quickly bent at the waist, hurrying to make sure that she stopped before overfilling the cup. She almost started crying again as she watched the clear cup fill with her dark yellow urine. She watched carefully as her pee neared the line to which she had been told to fill. She clenched her muscles and stopped peeing, just short of the line and removed the cup from her vagina, screwed the top on quickly and handed it out to the nurse, who was still standing close behind her.

"See not so hard, girls like you just need the right motivation. The rule holds true for pretty much everything. Don't you think Porter, it's just a matter of motivation and anything is possible?"

Sarah wasn't entirely sure she was supposed to answer but the flustered teen had already decided that it seemed better to err on the side of caution.

"Yes Ma'am."

Nurse Sharp swapped the cup of Sarah's urine for a tissue, "Wipe yourself and place it in the bin then hurry up and get dressed."

Sarah took the tissue and wiped the few droplets of pee that still clung to the lips of her sex. She hurried around the nurse and popped the tissue in the small bin on the trolley and all but ran over to the corner and started to dress. Now she really did need to pee. She had only let out a tiny amount and starting and then stopping had now made her really feel the need to empty her bladder. She didn't know when she would get a chance but vowed to ask Miss Harper as soon as they were out of the room.

Sarah knew it had not really been that long but it felt like hours since she had been clothed. She could not wait to feel that warm protective feeling she knew her uniform would give her. It was a matter of moments for her socks to be rolled up her legs and her shoes to be on and buckled - now there was something she hadn't missed. The heels were as strange a feeling as ever, the added height and the tense feeling in her calves as they were stretched a little to accommodate the new position would still take quite some getting used to.

She heard the nurse leave the room, wheeling the trolley but she neither turned around nor stopped dressing. She hadn't thought about being obedient or that curiosity was not becoming as she had been told, she was just desperate to be clothed and out on her way.

She hurriedly slipped her panties up her legs, taking time to adjust the straps and making sure the actual material of the panties was covering her sex properly. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to the feeling of these panties, the seamless design and decided lack of material made it feel like she was not wearing anything at all which caused the odd jarring sensation when every now and then a movement would cause the material to shift and she would be reminded that she was indeed wearing them.

One thing she definitely could get used to, she thought, was the new bra. She still intensely disliked how exposed her breasts felt, and she was dreading walking with the blouse on knowing her nipples would get hard again, but the comfort was unbelievable. Once she had adjusted her breasts slightly, just pushing the sides a little with her fingers, they felt like they were cushioned on marshmallows.

As she was clipping her skirt, making sure it sat on her hipbones and not around her waist as she had done the first time, she heard someone come into the room behind her. Sarah hurriedly put her blouse on and buttoned it up and took only seconds to clip on her tie, she was already becoming adept at this action. She scooted back into the centre of the room and stood at attention, spotting both Miss Harper and the nurse looking at her.

"Thanks so much for letting me use your room Miss Sharp. It's fantastic."
"That's ok Clarice. A prefect, a maths champ and a very polite young lady. You can come over anytime you would like to have a chat."
"Oh thanks Miss Sharp," beamed the ecstatic girl.

"Call me Michelle, but just when we are alone, don't want the other girls getting jealous now do we," smiled the voluptuous nurse.

"Haha, sure Michelle. If I may ask, where did you get that brilliant throw."
"Oh that old thing," nurse Sharp answered coyly. "That's from Harrods."
"I knew it," exclaimed Harper. "It is so beautiful."

Sarah could not believe what was going on. She had been pushed and prodded and rushed about like the world was going to end and now here they were just talking away as if they had all the time in the world. And she felt a special hurt when the nurse had talked about being alone. They were treating her as if she wasn't even in the room.

"How did she do Michelle. Please don't tell me I have a problem girl on my hands?"
"No Clarice, she has a clean bill of health. And she's a virgin."

Sarah could have died on the spot. She thought this kind of thing was supposed to be confidential and here it was blabbed to the first possible person. She wasn't ashamed of being a virgin but she knew what girls were like and she hoped and prayed that it wouldn't get used against her.

"O.M.G. Michelle."
"Clarice don't talk like that. Those abbreviations are things I expect to hear from common girls, not from a student of Harkwood."
"Sorry Michelle. It's just wow, that’s not something I expected from a Trinnie."

"Well Clarice every now and then we can be surprised by anything. I have a suspicion that she has not even kissed a boy."
"Wow is that true Porter?"

"Oh Clarice we don't have time for this chit chat really. You pop along and remember, you are welcome anytime."
"Sure Michelle and thanks again. Come on Porter we need to hurry now, I don't want to be at this all night."

Oh now we need to hurry, thought Sarah. Now you have finished your small talk, when it suits you. Sarah got a little angry but immediately regretted it. She needed to remember that thinking like that caused slipups, and she was likely to let it through next time she spoke which would be disastrous.

Sarah turned to follow her handler out the door but was halted in her tracks as the nurse spoke to her.

"Porter, what is the time?"

"Um, I don't know Ma'am," Sarah replied dejectedly. She had forgotten to look at the clock before she left, after she had been specifically advised to.

"Look now Porter and don't forget it. I am too tired to open your file again so get moving."

Sarah glanced at the clock before popping a quick curtsy and scurrying out of the room. It had read 6:48. The examination had taken only 42 minutes. Sarah could have sworn she had been in there for way more than an hour.

Chapter 4. In which Sarah tours the school

Sarah ran to catch her handler. The short steps the heels forced her to take had her nipples hard well before she caught up to the older girl. Sarah knew that it was inevitable but she still hated that everyone who looked at her would be able to see the stiff little nubs almost breaking through the thin white material of her blouse. Even when she reached her handler she still had to take twice as many steps to keep up the swift pace the prefect was setting. She fell in two steps behind, and a little to the left of Miss Harper and tried to keep up.

Sarah watched her surroundings as they walked down corridors, noting the beautiful decor of the old building. She kept her eye out for a possible toilet as she was dying to pee. After they had moved down a number of halls and back past the headmistresses office, Sarah could wait no longer. She had no idea of the layout of the school and didn't know how far away the toilets were, or, indeed, even if they were getting further away with each step. She screwed up her courage and asked.

"Excuse me Miss Harper but could we go to the toilet please, I really have to go," asked Sarah in a very sweet, pleading voice.

"You should have thought about that when we left the infirmary. There were toilets just around the corner. You can wait until we reach your dorm. Now come on, through here we will be back in the foyer and then we can start the tour. I am only going to show you the main areas, because some parts of the school you won't need to worry about and others you will find in time as your lessons take you."

They were soon back in the foyer, the large wooden doors closed and bolted. This was Sarah's first chance to see the outside since she had looked through the windows in the headmistresses office. She could tell through the large stain-glass windows above the doors that it was now dark outside. It must be close to seven o'clock now. It had been a really long day already, she had hardly any sleep on the plane and though she had dozed in the taxi, the poor girl was tired. The humiliating time she had spent inside the school, which had been almost every single minute, had only exhausted her further, both mentally and physically.

"Porter stand here and face into the school."

Sarah did as she was told, looking down the long hall. To her right was a wide staircase that she could see ended in a landing on the first floor, and obviously continued upwards to a third floor beyond. Straight ahead along the hall were a number of openings through which she could see nothing, despite the well lit interior.

"Upstairs are the dorms of all houses - Medea, Morrigan and Annan. Trinity house dorm is accessed by a different stair as it is in the left wing of the school. The school is in three wings, I guess I should have started with that. We are in the main wing now. Left is your dorm, the gym, the kitchens and food hall and the chem labs, plus I guess most of your classes are held in your own wing. Main wing has all our dorms plus our classrooms and the right wing has the main hall, the library, classrooms and the study rooms. So let’s go right first."

As they moved through the corridors of the school, Sarah marveled at how large it all was, and all in the one building. She peered into the classrooms as they passed, most were darkened but one or two had a light on, she even saw one with a fish tank in it. How wonderful she thought, this was the kind of school she had dreamed of. A real place of learning where there was more to the process than just textbooks and spitballs.

The first place her handler stopped was at the study rooms. These seemed to be small glassed cubicles set around the walls of a large hall. In the middle of the hall were numerous long tables with countless chairs down each side. Sarah was so happy. Here was an entire huge room just devoted to academic endeavours. Study was almost a swearword at her old school and being a good student was the easiest way to become a target for teasing. She just knew that here at Harkwood her talent would be able to shine.

"I thought it best to show you these rooms even though you probably won't be using them much. Trinity house has it's own study hall."

Yes, rejoiced Sarah, giving herself an internal high-five.

They left the large study hall and moved down the corridor. Not far down was the library.

As the pair of young girls entered Sarah's breath caught. The place was huge. She had never seen so many books. She had seen pictures of the huge libraries at Universities and dreamed of the day she could wander down the aisles. The daunted teenager distractedly followed her handler over to the large counter just inside the door, preoccupied by the rows and rows of bookshelves.

BING, Sarah's head snapped around at the sound of Miss Harper ringing the little metal bell on the counter.

"The library is open from seven in the morning until ten at night, seven days a week. The librarian is Mrs Walker. There is no talking in the library, of course, but Mrs Walker is really strict about it."

The prefect was about to ding the bell again when an extremely tall and stately woman emerged with an armful of books. She placed them upon the counter and stared at the two teen girls.

"Hi Mrs Walker, this is a new student for Trinity house that I am showing around."

"Yes, good evening Miss Harper," replied the librarian. "I am aware of who this is as the headmistress has previously informed me of her potential presence tonight. Come here girl," she motioned to Sarah, who was standing at attention the correct two feet behind her handler.

Sarah moved up to the counter and looked at the librarian. She looked to be around 50, with wisps of grey in her red hair, twirled up in an elaborate bun on the top of her head. She had a very old-fashioned style and Sarah thought that she was the absolute epitome of what a librarian should be. As she closed in on the counter she noticed the librarians gaze flicker to her chest and watched the older woman's face crease into a frown.

Sarah flushed scarlet as she realised the woman had seen her outstandingly erect nipples and obviously disapproved. She was dying to explain it was not her fault but she just cringed inwardly and sighed to herself. Does anyone ever believe that kind of stuff anyway?

"Lean forward," commanded the librarian quite coldly.

Sarah leaned over the counter as the librarian reached out, grabbed the small metal tag dangling from her left ear and scanned the code upon it. The dreaded beep of the scanner right in her ear caused the dejected teen to die a little inside each time. That simple act of scanning the tag brought the whole humiliating process back to the front of her mind. The only piece of jewellery she wore was a tag like those used to identify animals.

The librarian proceeded to work at the computer as Sarah stepped back behind Miss Harper.

"The permissions have been set. Standard Trinity permissions. You are allowed to borrow up to three items from collections 62 to 66 for a duration of 48 hours. You make your selections, come to the desk here where they are processed. You return your items to the desk here to be processed. At no time do you ever just leave borrowed items on this counter for collection. Understand."

"Yes Ma'am."

"And there is no talking in this library apart from at this counter. Not in the shelves and not at the desks. This library is my domain, any infractions earned here are dealt with here. Remember that Sarah Josephine Porter."

"Yes Ma'am," replied the thoroughly cowed young girl. This old woman was frightening. Sarah bet if she let her hair down she would look like a witch. The image almost made her smile but one look at that stern visage stifled any chance of the smile making it onto her face.

"Right let's go, no need to see anything more in here. It's like any other library so I am sure you will find what you need when you need it."

Harper wasn't wasting any time now, she left the room without a backwards glance, safe in the knowledge her charge would follow. As Sarah turned to go she realised she had forgotten to look at the time as she entered the library. She looked around for the clock as she left, it was 7:12. Knowing the time brought back to her how much she needed to pee. Miss Harper had told her that she could go in her dorm and Sarah pondered just how much longer it would take to get there.

She made a quick curtsy to the librarian who barely glanced at her and ran to catch the older girl. It seemed she was always running to catch up, she was always behind. They had only to go around one corner to be confronted by a large open space in front of a wide set of double doors. The corridor had flared open here to create a kind of foyer in front of the doors.

"This is the main hall or great hall," Harper explained. She pushed open the left hand door and entered, followed closely by Sarah. "This is where all assemblies are held. There is an assembly each Friday morning and this is also where we entertain any guest speakers, have concerts and the yearly dance is held here too."

Sarah had only just stepped inside and looked at the massive hall, the stage at the far end and the masses of chairs all lined up against the back walls when her handler began to shut the door on her.

"There's nothing to see in there now. It's an empty room, geez. We are just going to skip middle wing. You don't need to see our dorms anyway," stated Harper as she strode off.

This suited Sarah just fine. She needed to pee and the sooner they made it to her dorm the better. She was sure she didn't to see them anyway. She was sure she would be able to find her way around in time. 

Her handler kept up the punishing pace as they moved back through the main foyer and on into the left wing. Sarah was struggling only a little with the high heels now. She had becoming accustomed to walking in them and now understood why so many women wore them. They weren't that hard to move around in and they actually felt quite good, though her legs hurt a little from the strain but she was sure she would get used to that too.

"Left are the labs, we have chemistry and biology practicals in there," Harper stated as they passed a corridor. Sarah only had time to glance down and saw only an empty corridor with rows of closed doors. The tour was kind of disintegrating into just a walkby of various features.

"Now left is the gym, right is food hall and the kitchens. Gym first." And left they headed, Sarah following obediently behind.

The doors to the gym were similar to those of the main hall, only this time made of glass. Sarah was astonished with what lay beyond. She had thought it would be like the gym at her old school, but this looked more like an actual fitness club. The huge room was full of equipment: running machines, exercise bikes, step and weight machines and all manner of apparatus that the young girl did not immediately understand.

This was Sarah's first chance to see some of the other students at Harkwood. There were three girls in the room, working out on different machines. They were all quite athletic looking, dressed in small blue exercise shorts and halter tops. They were very cute little outfits thought Sarah. She had never really been a fan of gym, and had always worn the baggiest clothes possible but she felt that it wouldn't be so bad to exercise looking as nice as that.

Her handler waved to one of the girls on a running machine who waved back. "This is the main gym for the school. It is open from six in the morning until eight at night. To use the facilities you have to log in first and log out when you are finished. Trinity house has its own smaller gym upstairs but there you have to log in on each machine as well. Now out the back is the main court."

The older girl led her to a door at the back of the gym. Through it was an immense open court with polished hardwood floors. This was something that was similar to her school back home but this one was much larger and there weren't the standard basketball hoops at each end. The ceiling was extremely high, 30 feet at least. If they didn't play basketball in here, what sports did they play in this country.

Once again the door was closed on her before she really had a chance to get a good look. But from what she had seen, the school was amazingly well equipped. The rich really did give their children a better start in life.

Sarah had been extremely worried about coming so far to go to a new school, no matter how prestigious. But she was beginning to feel that this was her chance to finally get something out of one of her stepdads. She only hoped that this time it lasted long enough with her mother for her to really benefit.

Sarah obediently followed her handler back through the gym and out into the corridors again. She was not taking much notice of where they were going, thinking instead of how fantastic this school seemed to her now. Even though the ever-present hardness of her nipples was a constant reminder of her humiliation since she arrived, Sarah was now trying to fit that into an overall idea of the school. She was even more sure now that it was really nothing to worry about, it was degrading yes but she was beginning to accept that it was just the "new student" treatment and she was sure she would soon fit in and everything would seem more natural to her once she accepted it.

"And this," said Harper, startling the daydreaming teen, "is the music room and studio. Fully functioning AV recording studio and soundproofed practice room."

The room was a marvel of electronic equipment and musical instruments of every shape and size.

"Know any instruments Porter?"
"No Miss Harper," replied the excited teen, wondering what instrument she would like to learn the most.

"Well I am sure you will be fluent in one or two before you graduate," the prefect chuckled to herself.

Sarah wasn't too sure what was funny but she smiled at the older girl anyway, showing off the cute dimples that formed in each cheek when she smiled.

"Priceless," remarked Harper as she observed the reaction on the face of her charge. "One more stop before your dorm, let's leg it."

This time Sarah was ready and kept up with her handler the entire way. Finally she didn't have to chase her. They soon arrived at the food hall. If Sarah hadn't known better she could have sworn it was her old cafeteria. It was just the same: a large room filled with tables and chairs and a long glassed counter at one end. Sarah followed the prefect as she walked up to the counter.

"Mrs Lancaster," yelled Harper, startling Sarah. The echo reverberated around the empty room. Sarah heard a clatter from the kitchen and watched as a pretty young woman in her 30s came out.

"Evening Clarice, I have your supper still warm for you. But I was only told to expect you. I could heat something else up."
"That's ok Mrs Lancaster. This is Porter, she's in Trinity house. She's the reason I missed dinner, she's my new charge."

"Ah I see dear, well it comes with the territory, ok take a seat and I will get your supper. Spaghetti bolognaise and French bread sound fine."
"Sounds delicious Mrs Lancaster. You know Sunday nights are all the girl’s favourites.”

"Porter go and set up one of those chairs so I can have my supper."

Sarah turned around to the empty food hall, went over to the nearest table and took one of the chairs from its upside down position on the table and set it on the floor. She wasn't entirely sure what to do then so she stood at attention and faced into the room, exactly where her finished task had left her.

She was running over in her mind that she was not going to be allowed to eat. Maybe it was just here though and she would get a snack in the dorm. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, instantly reminding herself that she had forgotten to check the time in every room since she left the library. Four rooms she had totally forgotten, she was going to have to do better.

It was now 7:40. She realised that not only hadn't she had anything to eat for about six hours but that she had now been needing to pee for almost an hour. And now it seemed like she would have to stand here and wait until Miss Harper had finished a meal before she would get to see her dorm. She soon smelt a wonderful aroma behind her.

"Here you are my dear, and there is today's paper too. Not sure if you had a chance to read it or not, but thought you might like to while you eat."
"Thanks a lot Mrs Lancaster. That's really thoughtful of you, it's not a lot of fun eating alone."

Sarah's heart sank. Once again she was being treated as if she didn't exist. Or maybe that wasn't quite right. She was being treated as if she didn't matter. She wasn't even sure which was worse. She felt herself on the verge of tears again, so soon after she had felt like she was getting on top of everything.

Sarah remained standing as Harper sat down and began to eat her dinner, reading the paper as she enjoyed the spaghetti bolognaise and wonderfully crunchy French bread. Sarah could smell each and every aroma and from the contented noises her handler was making she knew it was delicious. She heard the pages of the paper turn as Miss Harper ate and a tightness formed in her chest at the humiliation of being ignored.

Sarah felt terrible that someone would rather read a paper than talk to her. She didn't know if Miss Harper was trying to be mean, or maybe she just didn't want to get to be too close friends seeing she was responsible for her. Hell, Sarah didn't know much of anything right now. Apart from the fact she was very hungry and her bladder was now becoming slightly painful. Standing at attention like this, her legs spread slightly was even worse. The relief to be gained from just putting her legs together was sure to be amazing she thought.

"Are you hungry Porter?"
"Oh yes Miss Harper, I haven't eaten anything since lunch."
"I didn't ask for your life story Porter. A simple yes will do."
"Are you hungry?"
"Yes Miss Harper."
"At your feet Porter, I dropped some bread. You can have that if you want."

Sarah looked down at her feet, thoroughly degraded. There was a small broken piece of bread on the floor. Now Sarah was sure that the older girl was simply being mean. They might have tagged her like an animal but she wasn't eating off the floor like one.

"No thank you Miss Harper."

"Well suit yourself, but don't say I wasn't nice to you."

Sarah knew that the older girl was playing mindgames with her but it didn't stop them from working. She was now in two minds about her motivation.

"Well pick it up and put it in my bowl and then you can take them to Mrs Lancaster. Take them straight through to the kitchen," commanded her handler as she continued to read the paper.

Sarah bent down and retrieved the bread from the floor. She felt like a servant now more than ever, following someone around like a puppy and being made to stand at attention in everyone's presence was something she was finding very difficult to get used to but now being ordered around like this made her more fearful that her time with her handler was going to be a little harder to deal with than just some innocent hazing powerplay.

Sarah dutifully placed the bread in the bowl, collected it, the cutlery and the glass and took them past the counter and into the kitchen. She was a little anxious that she would get in trouble for being back here but she been ordered to come after all. She walked into the kitchen and saw Mrs Lancaster sitting at a table with some cookbooks spread out in front of her.

Sarah stood at the entrance to the kitchen and waited to be acknowledged. She waited and waited but Mrs Lancaster did not look up or show any indication she even knew she was there. Sarah was going to stick with her policy of trying to do what she thought right so people would not get angry, so she decided she would have to act.

"Excuse me Ma'am, I have brought Miss Harper’s dirty dishes," Sarah said meekly.

Mrs Lancaster didn't move. Sarah started to worry. She knew she wasn't deaf because she had talked with her handler. Sarah knew she would have to be more bold, after all Miss Harper was waiting for her. The anxious young girl advanced further into the kitchen stepping as loudly as she could on the hard linoleum floor.

That seemed to do the trick. Before Sarah could open her mouth to speak again, the seated woman’s head whipped up and stared at her in shock. Sarah took an involuntary step back.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs Lancaster almost shouted.

"Excuse me Ma'am but I have brought back Miss Harper's dirty dinner dishes," replied the fearful teenager.

It was only then that the woman reached up to her ears and removed the headphones she was wearing. Instantly Sarah could hear the faint tinny music coming from them. No wonder Sarah was able to surprise her.

"What are you doing back hear," Mrs Lancaster repeated, obviously not having heard Sarah's previous response.

"I have brought back Miss Harpers dinner dishes Ma'am."

"Put them in the sink over there and thank Miss Harper for being so thoughtful as to save me going out for them."

Yes, thought Sarah, wasn't Miss Harper thoughtful to have me do this.

"And take a cloth back with you and wipe down the table," directed Mrs Lancaster as she replaced the headphones and continued to peruse her cookbooks.

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah replied, even though it was doubtful she could be heard.

She took the cloth and marched quickly back to the food hall, a little fearful that she had taken too long. But Miss Harper was still seated and still happily reading her paper.

"You took your time, did you wash the dishes yourself?' joked the prefect.

"No Miss Harper, Mrs Lancaster was liste..."

"Whatever Porter. You can take the paper back to Mrs Lancaster now and tell her thank you from me. And then replace the chair, we have to be going."
"Yes Miss Harper. Mrs Lancaster wanted to thank you for being thoughtful and having the dishes returned and she also wanted me to wipe the table down."
"Well hurry up. I won't wait all night."

Sarah folded the paper and wiped the table down as her handler walked towards the exit. She lifted the chair back on the table and ran back into the kitchen, slowing down just as she entered the doors, put the dishcloth back into the sink and placed the paper on the table. Sarah looked to Mrs Lancaster for guidance but the cook didn't even look up.

"Miss Harper says thank you for the paper," said Sarah hesitantly.

She waited a few seconds, wondering whether she needed to be heard for it to count but was desperate not to be left behind. She decided that was good enough and walked out of the kitchen. As soon as she was around the corner she began to run again, through the serving area, out through the food hall and into the corridor, tiny mincing steps that had her breasts bouncing in the half cups of her bra and her skirt swirling out around her. If she had lost Miss Harper she was doomed, she had no idea where she was. But to her relief the prefect was waiting for her in the corridor, lounging casually against the wall.

"Time to drop you off Porter."

The staircase leading to the first floor was not far away and all Sarah could think of on the way was finally being able to relieve herself. Her need to pee had become a dull throb in her bladder. Needing to pee made her realise that once again she didn't know what the time was. How could she keep forgetting this one simple thing, and forgetting almost every time. It was one of those things that she needed to become a habit she realised so she didn't have to consciously focus on it all the time as there were just too many distractions for her to keep her head straight.

"Now your dorm is on the second floor. First floor are your classrooms and some other boring stuff," intoned the prefect as she started up the stairs.

With her first step on the carpeted stairs, Sarah realised that there was more to walking in heels than she thought. She seemed to have almost mastered walking, and even running, kind of, on flat surfaces but stairs required a little more concentration. She wobbled slightly but kept her balance and managed to be walking normally by the time she reached the second floor landing.

"Once you are logged in to your dorm you are off my hands. I won't see you until lunch tomorrow where I need to supervise you during that free period, so you can wait for me outside the food hall," continued her handler as they ascended the last flight of stairs to the second floor.

The stairs terminated on a landing that had only one exit. A wide corridor led off down the left, a number of doorways leading off both sides. The hallway was a little gloomier than the rest of the school had been, with only every second set of lights turned on. It gave this particular corridor a kind of creepy feeling.

As she followed Miss Harper down the hall she noticed that the ceiling actually alternated sets of lights with large domed skylights. There was almost nothing to see tonight as it was overcast but it must look lovely when the stars and moon are out.

The corridor terminated in an open doorway that led into a brightly lit room filled with girls. Sarah was eager to enter and meet her new schoolmates, girls among whom she was sure to find a great affinity and hopefully make some friends for life. The subdued murmurs from the room quieted as the two girls neared the end of the corridor. Sarah was prevented from seeing fully into the room as Miss Harper ushered her into the doorway closest to the corridor’s end, knocking on the opened door as she did so.

"Hi Miss Peach. I have your last girl for you."

"Finally," sighed a clearly annoyed woman. She was lounging back on a couch on one side of the room reading a novel. The first thing Sarah noticed was that she was the first person she had seen at Harkwood that was even a little chubby. She wasn't fat she just... filled out her clothes Sarah finished the thought rather kindly.

"Her kit’s already installed. Her bed is the fourth on the left, name's on the cupboard anyway," continued the reclining woman dismissively.

"Um Miss Peach, I was hoping to leave her with you. Only I have to get back to my own dorm."

Miss Peach looked at the prefect over the top of her book, then at Sarah who was staring at the window on the other side of the room, only barely aware of the movement in her periphery.

"Alright Harper but we better see another maths award out of you this term. Got to keep up the record you know. You toddle off and I will see this one the rest of the way."
"Thanks Miss Peach, and Porter don't forget. Tomorrow lunchtime."

With that her handler literally skipped out of the room and down the corridor. Leaving Sarah with another strange woman, and one which didn't seem to be too happy that her reading had been interrupted.

"This way," Miss Peach snapped as she swayed past Sarah.

The bewildered teen only had time to turn around and take two steps when she was rudely yanked by the ear into the Trinity lounge. Miss Peach had reached out and grabbed the tag hanging from her left ear and dragged Sarah to a small scanner on the wall inside the door. The young girl stumbled forward leaning her head as far forward as she could to prevent the ring being ripped out of her ear.

She was about to cry out when she heard the loud beep in her ear that let her know her location had once again been scanned. That small humiliating sound was enough to keep her mouth shut.

"97817402," stated Miss Peach as she let go of Sarah's tag, allowing the young girl to straighten up to full attention. Sarah stared at the small computer readout on the wall under the scanner. It looked a lot like a security alarm but there weren't any buttons to speak of, just the scanner embedded in the wall and the lit display.

"That's you Porter. 97817402. I know your induction has been severely lacking but that is your fault. You should have been here five days ago. You had better remember your student number and you better provide the correct response."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Close Porter. I am the Housemistress. So to show me the proper respect you refer to me as Mistress. Now try again."
"Yes Mistress." Sarah hoped she could keep all these different terms straight in her mind.

"This is the lounge for Trinity house. Each time you enter or leave you check in by scanning yourself. If there is ever a problem and your correct number is not shown you are to report to my office immediately. Do you know where my office is?"
"Yes Mistress."

"When you leave the lounge out of school hours you are to report your destination and estimated duration of absence. All this information is logged to ensure you are not wandering aimlessly or sitting idle somewhere in the grounds. Your patron is not paying for your tutelage here to be wasted on frivolity or laziness is he?"
"No Mistress," replied Sarah, thinking of her 'patron'. She still wasn't sure how she should feel towards her stepfather for sending her here. She was sure she would be grateful  when she graduated though.

"This area is where you will spend a lot of your time. When class ends for the day you are to come here and complete any homework assignments or work on any projects you may have. Turn around so you can get acquainted."

Sarah turned around and saw the room filled with her housemates. They were all dressed identically to her: in the cute school uniform of Harkwood. The girls were of all shapes and sizes and nationalities but universally pretty and they were all standing at attention. They must have instantly sprung up when Miss Peach entered the room thought Sarah, as she could see little clusters next to small raised platforms around the room and single girls over by a bank of computer terminals against one wall.

"As you can see this room contains everything you will need to continue your education outside of class. We have a number of showing platforms here, computers and plenty of space for special apparatus. Anything you need can be brought in here from other rooms and installed without a problem either at your request or that of a teacher."

Sarah looked around the room, noting the platforms that the housemistress had mentioned; they were raised off the floor about two feet and these were obviously what a lot of the girls had been sitting on. There were two in the far corners of the room that had shiny metal poles in their centre which went all the way to the ceiling.

"Doorway to the left are the toilets and showers. Doorway to the right is the house gym."

At these words Sarah's eyes zoomed in on the left doorway. She was frantic to pee now. She had been waiting desperately ever since she had to provide the sample for the nurse. Starting to pee and then having to stop so quickly afterwards had heightened her need terribly.

"Excuse me Mistress may I go to the toilet," Sarah asked boldly.

"Don't interrupt Porter. Straight ahead is your dorm. Your bed is the fourth on the left. There is a scanner on each doorway just as there is on the main lounge door. You are to scan each time you move between rooms. The computer login is also run by the same system so you login each time by scanning your eartag. Can you imagine how much work it was keeping track of all this before we had the scanners. These last four years have been brilliant."

Sarah was saddened at how easily her request had been dismissed. If she didn't get to go soon, she thought, she would just march off and go anyway and damn the consequences. Sarah laughed scornfully at herself. She knew she wouldn't. She hated getting in trouble, even from her mom, and she hated people being angry at her. She guessed it was what made her such a good student and made all her old teachers like her.

"You can find your bed and kit later, the hot water will be on in two minutes," observed Miss Peach as she glanced at the clock on the wall. Damn thought Sarah, again she hadn't checked the time, it was starting to become a personal peeve with herself.

"Hot water is on for ten minutes. Lights out at nine. Wakeup is six. I don't have anymore time to waste on you tonight, the other girls can fill you in."

And with that the housemistress walked out of the lounge, leaving Sarah standing there unsure of what to do. When she saw all the other girls visibly relax and look at her, she began to relax too. She looked around at the gathered girls. It was a strange mexican standoff with no one moving. Sarah decided that as she was the new girl she would make the first move. These girls were going to be her new best friends for the next 18 months.

"Hi I'm Sar..."

BEEP. A muted bell sounded from the door to the left and every girl moved quickly towards the doorway, leaving a confused Sarah standing on her own in an empty room.

Well that went well, she said to herself dejectedly.

Chapter 5. In which Sarah meets her classmates

A pretty flame-haired head popped around the doorway to the showers as Sarah watched the last of the girls disappear into the annexed room.

"Hey Porter, come on. Only ten minutes of hot water and believe me you don't want to shower in the cold," urged the helpful teen.

Sarah noted her accent as Irish. Sarah had always admired the way the Irish spoke, such a beautiful, almost musical, way of speaking. She hurried towards the doorway, her first port of call would have to be the toilets, not the showers, ten minutes of hot water or not.

She hurried after the other girls, went through the doorway and stopped in her tracks on the threshold. The room was just one big open space. The whole room was tiled in white, with a little band of blue tiles halfway up the wall. The entire right side of the room was delineated by a little raised step to keep the water from the showers spilling out into the other half of the room. The showers themselves were just nozzles pointing down from the wall, there were no cubicles.

Sarah was more shocked to see that there were no cubicles for the toilets either. There were four toilets directly across from her, she realised they could be seen through the open doorway from the lounge. The wall to the left was covered in one huge long mirror, under which was a row of small hand basins.

The dazzled teen noticed all this in an instant, but what drew her attention was the gaggle of girls undressing beside her. Many of the girls were already in their underwear. Sarah watched as they continued to undress, placing each item in white cloth drawstring bags that were hanging from hooks on the wall. Each girl seeming to have her own bag on their own hook.

Sarah stood dumbfounded. She  watched the pretty girls all wearing the same uniform but all in different states of undress. All the girls wore the same half-cup bra as she did, but it seemed every pair of breasts was different: big and small, big nipples, small nipples, dark nipples or light, taut and firm or soft and malleable. They were all contained and supported beautifully, until the bra came off and gravity took hold, allowing the true differences in each bosom to be seen.

Sarah had never seen so many pretty girls in one place and she was extremely self-conscious, knowing she would not measure up. Sarah never really denied to herself that she was cute, but she had that ‘girl next door’ prettiness. She definitely wasn’t beautiful like these other girls.

"C'mon Porter we don't have much time," urged the pretty red-headed Irish girl.

Sarah's eyes flicked to the ever-present clock on the wall. It was just coming up to one minute past eight. Already some girls had completely stripped and were making their way into the shower area.

Sarah made a move towards the toilets. Exposed or not she needed to go and she needed to go now. She didn't even make one step before her arm was grabbed and she was pulled to the side.

"Login first, and hurry," urged the Irish girl, who by now had her blouse off and in a bag.

Sarah stared at the girl as she unclipped her skirt and placed it in her bag. She didn't take her eyes off her as she leant down towards the scanner. The girl was exquisite. Her skin was pure white, her tiny nipples such a delicate shade of pink. With her long deep-red hair and shining green eyes she looked more like a painting than flesh and blood.

The scanner did not beep so Sarah had to reach up to the dangling piece of metal at her ear and twist it around in front of the scanner until it registered. She could just feel the raised side that contained the barcode. Beep, the scanner sounded, producing the familiar crimson flush through the shy teen's cheeks.  

"You can pee in the shower. Trust me it is heaps easier that way. I have to go, I don't want to miss all the hot water." With that the, now naked, helpful teen hurried off to the showers, where Sarah could already see all the other girls.

Sarah had peed in the shower once or twice, but she felt it was a little wrong. To do it in front of these other girls however... but maybe they wouldn't notice. They all seemed pretty busy already. She decided to take a chance and go for it. Haha, she laughed to herself, what a rebel.

She found the bag on the wall that was empty. It was numbered four, which she guessed was the number of her bed as well. There were three rows of six hooks on the wall and hers was the only empty bag, so there were a total of 18 girls in her dorm.

That didn't seem like many, after all she had read on the internet that there were over 200 girls at Harkwood. She remembered back to researching the school when her stepfather had told her of the idea. It had a great website, really professional with heaps of pictures of the girls having fun and learning, running cross country races against other schools, performing concerts and doing charity work. It seemed like a great school and Sarah had pretty much decided on the spot that Harkwood would be a great opportunity.

Sarah thought no more of the numbers as she started to get undressed. She hurriedly removed her uniform, putting each piece of clothing in her bag, except for her bra and tie which she hung from the hook. It seemed that is what all the other girls had done so she felt it best to follow them.

Her shoes were placed on the floor beneath the bags, directly over a number four stencilled on the tiles in bold black type.

Once again Sarah was naked at Harkwood. It seemed like her time here was just a seesaw between nude and clothed, a truly crazy few hours she thought as she scampered over to the showers.

There were only ten showerheads projecting water, five on each side of the small room so some girls were having to share. It seemed they had a pretty good system. The showers were all turned on full so even if you weren't directly under one the lovely warm spray was likely to fall on you somehow.

She hesitatingly stepped over the small lip and moved towards the girl that had been so helpful. She seemed to have a showerhead to herself and Sarah was sure she wouldn't mind her sharing it, or her peeing there as she was the one who had suggested it.

"Murphy," the alabaster girl said cheerily, offering her hand. Sarah shook the outstretched hand, grateful for the first signs of friendship she had so been hoping for here.

"Here, stand under and get wet, wash your hair first. The water doesn't last long and the shampoo here is fantastic. Make sure you wash it each shower, it's amazing," beamed Murphy.

"Thanks I'm Sarah Porter."
"Just Porter is best. All the teachers and staff and prefects all call us by our last names. We all decided it was best if we stuck to those just for a while, it has made it heaps easier. Especially seeing we have two Kates and two Annes," smiled the amiable Irish lass.

Sarah reached out and took the shampoo bottle from a little alcove in the wall under the showerhead. She took a quick glance at the bottle, it was a 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner. She had tried a few of the combinations before and was sceptical, they never seemed to be as good as the separate products. It was a brand she had never heard of, probably something European, she thought as she squirted a generous measure into her hand.

Sarah could not wait any longer. As she shampooed her hair she gratefully let a long stream of dark yellow urine run down her legs. It was like a huge weight had been taken off her belly. It was the most wonderful feeling, the relief was so intense it was almost pleasurable.

The embarrassed teen looked around the room at the other girls, hoping no one had noticed. She looked at Murphy next to her, she was sure she knew but she didn’t seem to care.

"Here, use these gloves, they are great for exfoliating." Sarah took the gloves offered to her and put them on each hand. They were made of a rough, synthetic material and were a pretty deep blue, in keeping with the Harkwood colours.

Sarah continued to wash herself under the beautifully hot water. The temptation to watch the other girls shower was too much, the scene was almost hypnotic. As Sarah lathered the soap between the rough wash gloves she watched the seventeen other teenagers. Everyone was wearing the same blue gloves she had on and all were busy soaping and lathering their beautiful young bodies. It was a strange sight; seventeen naked bodies with little blue hands constantly darting across the shiny flesh. It was like some erotic modern dance recital.

There seemed to be almost every skin tone in the spectrum from the alabaster whiteness of her Irish friend to the deeply tanned skin of one particular tall raven-haired girl. There was even one girl who looked like she was still wearing panties, her tanline was that pronounced. It did seem odd to Sarah that there were no really dark-skinned girls though. That was a really big difference to her school back in the States.

Everyone was slim or athletic in physique. Sarah felt like she was showering with the cheerleaders back home or maybe with a bunch of young models. She imagined that they would have looked like this. She had always avoided gym and the showers, being so studious and the best student in the school had helped her with this. She didn't really pay too much attention to washing herself, just the warm water falling on her body felt good enough to her.

Sarah noticed that she was the smallest girl here. She was not even 5 feet tall, but she was still growing. Well she hoped she was. She hadn't really grown any taller in the last six months. She had not really worried about it until now, but being in a room with seventeen other girls her age really made her feel her size. Of course she was filling out in other ways, her breasts had sure been growing, it was what made her B size breasts seem more like a C.

As she watched the other girls shower, absentmindedly lathering her own body she heard one of the girls nearest the doorway call out "One minute." All the girls burst into a frenzy of activity. There was a good-natured jockeying for position directly under the showerheads to rinse off all the lathered soap. Sarah heard the girls laughing and squealing as they played around under the last of the water. She smiled to herself, the last few humiliating hours were almost beginning to wash away. She was amongst her girls now, laughing and having fun. School was going to be great.

"You have a really cute smile," Murphy complimented, breaking into Sarah's daydreaming. "I just love your dimples."

Sarah blushed, thankful that it would be hidden under the heat of the showers. She was not very good at taking compliments. She had never really had a chance to get used to it.

"You have the most amazing skin Murphy. Its so white, it looks like porcelain," Sarah complimented in kind. She felt strange calling, what she hoped was a new friend, by her last name. It felt terribly impersonal.

"Thanks, you don't get a lot of chance to go sunbaking in Ireland you know," Murphy joked as she turned off the taps. The two girls took off their gloves and placed them in the alcove with the shampoo and soap.

All the girls moved out of the shower area together, there was no reason so stay once the water had gone cold. The sight of seventeen nubile, naked young girls moving through the steam looked to Sarah like something from a movie. All the girls took a towel from a bench outside the showers.

"Ah," groaned Murphy. "These towels are terrible. It's weird how great everything else is, great shampoo, lovely soap, cute uniforms and beautiful sheets but these damn towels are like sandpaper."

Sarah picked up her towel from the pile and started to dry herself off. It was a white towel with the word Trinity embroidered in blue in one corner. She knew immediately what the other girl meant. The white towel was scratchy and rough and felt horrible against her skin. Even once it was wet it did not soften. As the other girls finished drying themselves they wrapped the towels around their hair, piling them on top of their heads like some strange white turban. The girls with short hair simply threw their towels back on the bench.

It was a strange sight to see each girl bend down in front of the scanner inside the doorway, wait for the beep and head out. Sarah wondered why they hadn’t put the scanners higher on the walls. She was the shortest girl here and even she had to bend her knees slightly to get her tag in front of the scanner. Surely there couldn’t have been shorter girls than her in past years. Sarah looked at Murphy inquiringly.

"Ah we are usually better prepared but when Mistress came in we didn't have a chance to get our toiletry bag from the dorm. Come on, you are in the bed next to me, I'll show you where your stuff is."

Sarah tied her towel on her head and joined the parade of naked girls, leaning down to the scanner and registering her exit from the room. She was not comfortable being naked, not even among all these girls her own age, but it was better than in a strange room with a grown woman. Somehow in those situations she felt she was being judged. The way her breasts swayed and bounced as she walked was still off-putting, but at least here the blouse was not rubbing against her nipples and making them hard. Maybe there was at least one tiny upside to being nude.

As Sarah and Murphy were entering the dorm, they were being passed by the line of girls going the other way, each one carrying a small mesh bag. Sarah waited as two outgoing girls used the scanner before she could proceed into the room. She had no idea why all this was necessary. Scanning the movement from each room had no point that she could see. It just seemed odd to need to know in which exact room they were in, especially inside the dorm.

Once she heard the beep, registering her presence in the room, she got her first look into the dorm proper. It was not a large room, it wasn't as large as the lounge through which she had just passed. There were nine beds ranged down each side of the room and a small doorless cupboard next to each. On the wall at the far end, directly opposite the doorway was a large floor-length mirror almost four feet wide. Sarah quickly looked away at the rest of the room, not wanting to look at the reflection of her naked body standing in the doorway.

The beds were simple: metal framed, thin metal legs with a slim mattress, but they were made immaculately. There was no footboard or headboard but a pillow rested near the wall. The white sheets on each bed were crisply aligned, a small blue band showing where to turn the sheet back, and she was sure that you could bounce a quarter off them, as the saying went.

The cupboard next to her bed looked more like a bookcase, recessed into the wall. From the top of the cupboard hung her skirts and blouses. They had all been removed from their plastic wrappings - six blouses and 2 skirts. Underneath this space there were four shelves. On the top shelf were two large boxes, still sealed and a book, which she could see was the school rules. Second shelf down were her folded socks and panties and bras. The third shelf was bare and the bottom shelf contained her gym shoes and a place reserved for the shoes she had left in the showers, another empty shoe sized spot and a small box of shoe cleaning materials. This now seemed to be the entirety of her possessions at Harkwood.

It didn't amount to much. But what will I really need thought Sarah, everything will be provided for. Still she couldn't help but feel a little strange and a little sad that this small cupboard was everything she was allowed and none of it felt like it was truly hers.

Sarah reached up to a small hook that hung at the top of the cupboard near her skirts and removed the mesh bag the other girls carried. She turned around to look for Murphy but realised she was alone in the dorm. She hurried to catch up to the other girls. She was really relying on them, needing to follow their lead. They had all been here some time, had most likely read the rules and knew what to do and what was to happen.

She leant down to the scanner before leaving. She waited exasperatedly for the beep and when it didn’t sound, reached up and grabbed the tag and held it before the scanner angrily. This really was annoying, but all the other girls seemed to have no trouble so she would just have to persevere. She was dying to ask them how they felt about being tagged like an animal. Through all the humiliating situations she had been in since her arrival, the degrading tag was by far the worst.

All the girls were now lined up at the basins along the far wall. There were only six basins so many girls were just waiting for their turn to brush their teeth, chatting amiably. Sarah took this opportunity to look at the contents of her bag. It held a small toothbrush, the handle was much smaller than she was used to, it seemed only about three inches long. A small tube of toothpaste, a small brush and three tampons with an applicator in a smaller plastic bag. Sarah noticed the absence of any makeup or even deodorant.

When she asked Murphy she was told that the soap they used to shower with was some special formula that killed all the bacteria that actually cause body odour so there was no need for deodorant.

"I know it sounds a bit strange but it's true."
"What's in the two big boxes," inquired Sarah. "I noticed everyone's are still sealed."

"Well that's just it isn't it. They’re sealed," teased Murphy. "I guess we'll find out tomorrow, but I reckon it's all our text books and stuff, you know pens and all that other stuff we will need for classes."

Sarah found it hard to take her eyes off the Irish teen. She was captivating. But she felt it would be rude to keep staring so Sarah took this opportunity to look at the other girls. Just quick glances here and there, nothing creepy.

Not only was the inquisitive girl fascinated by the different sizes and shapes of the other girl's breasts but their pubic regions were also a source of immense interest. Some girls had thick thatches of pubic hair in large triangles that seemed to fill the space between their legs - these must look terrible in their small white panties thought Sarah. Others had just downy patches like herself, some girls had shaved or waxed their pubic hair into just a thin strip and some were totally bare.

One of these smooth girls stood out from the rest by her behaviour. She was extremely sexy, overtly so. The way she moved was more like sashaying than walking, her hips moved so enticingly and her full pouting lips seemed so inviting. Sarah had trouble keeping her eyes moving once they had found her. She wasn't a lesbian, even now she wasn't turned on looking at her it was just that she had never seen a girl move and act like this.

"Yeah that's Casta," offered Murphy, noticing Sarah's preoccupation. "She's French and she's a tart. She's been telling stories for days now about all the things she has done and she diddles herself every night under the sheets."

Sarah looked shocked at this information. Not that she demonised anyone for masturbating but in a room full of other girls and every night! Sarah locked her door and made sure everyone else was asleep or out of the house when she pleasured herself. She honestly didn’t quite get the big deal with it, but she certainly didn’t want anyone else knowing about it.

"And she has some weird ideas. You know all this stuff we have to do, you know with the prefects and the staff and standing at attention and these damn things," complained Murphy as she flicked the metal tag hanging from her own left ear. "Well Casta reckons it's because this isn't really a normal school at all, it's a sex school and we are being made into sex slaves to be sold to rich Arabs for their harems." At this Murphy burst out laughing, her wonderful, musical laugh was infectious. Sarah started to giggle too.

"But really," Murphy continued, "we have been brainstorming it for a few days between us girls and we reckon that it's some kind of initiation thing. You know when we get to be seniors we'll do the same things. You must know all about this stuff, they do it all the time in the States right."

"Yeah, at college they do it a lot," Sarah agreed. Just hearing that someone had the same theory that she had contemplated made her extremely happy.

"Our turn," exclaimed Murphy, stepping up to a basin, while Sarah took the one next to her.

Sarah looked at herself in the mirror, took the towel off her head, giving her hair a final dry. She was about to wrap it about her body when Murphy snatched it and threw it with hers on the pile of used towels.

"Not allowed, it's not part of the official uniform so you can't use it to approximate clothes. Weird, but that's the English for ya," laughed the flaming-haired teen.

Sarah started to brush her hair, watching herself in the mirror. She watched as her breasts swayed and moved with each brushing movement. It seemed that everything she did highlighted her nudity. Being surrounded by other naked girls helped a little, as she felt she could blend in and kind of get missed in this crowd of beautiful girls, but it couldn’t make those self-conscious feelings go away.

As she flicked her hair around with the brush she became fascinated by the small metal tag that dangled from her left ear. It was about an inch long and sparkled in the bright lights that illuminated the room, reflecting off the tiles and mirrors allowing almost no shadows to be cast. It was attached to her ear by a small silver ring. It looked strange, only having one earring, it seemed almost pirate-like thought Sarah. She would have laughed to herself over that if the burden of the humiliation had not been so great.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Murphy, trying to cheer her up. “We all have one, think of it as a mark of our sisterhood. I know you must be more used to that kind of stuff, you know with thinking about college and your sororities. We don’t have that stuff over here, so it’s really all new for most of us.”

Sarah looked at her friend in the mirror, noting the shiny silver tag dangling from the redhead’s left ear, jumping on the small ring as she brushed her own luxuriant hair. She glanced at the other basins at the other young girls, brushing their hair or teeth. She could see the glint coming from each girls left ear. But no matter how hard Sarah tried she couldn’t reconcile this degrading jewellery to herself.

“Well why don’t all the girls from the other houses wear them,” pined Sarah. “I saw a few other girls and none of them had them.”

“Yeah we have tried to figure that one out. We all got an ID too right. Well it looks like the other girls get to carry bags around with them, you know for books and stuff and they have purses in their bags too. We still haven’t figured out why we don’t have bags though,” admitted Murphy between bouts of brushing her teeth. “I mean there are some weird things that just Trinity house has but then we get some great perks too. Our lounge is way bigger than the other houses’, I saw my handler’s on my tour, and we even have our own gym.”

Sarah pondered this as she brushed her own teeth with the tiny toothbrush. Both this and the hairbrush had little handles, like they were for a child or a doll or something. It definitely made brushing her teeth a little more awkward. Just then Sarah’s stomach grumbled. Brushing her teeth had made her remember how hungry she was, not having eaten for eight hours already. She hadn’t gone to bed without dinner since she was about six.

“Hey Murphy, do you think the other girls seem to resent us because we are much smarter than them,” asked Sarah, continuing their conversation as they finished getting ready for bed.

“Well I think that theory is shot out of the water by the presence of Mitchell, she is dumb as a bag of hammers,” Murphy nodded her head towards a large-breasted girl at a basin further along the wall. “Nah it seems that they resent us because we are all here because of our rich families.”

Murphy had moved over to the clothes bags by the entrance, she took down her bra and tie and picked up her shoes before heading out of the room. Sarah followed her lead, depositing her clothes back in her cupboard, watching Murphy like a hawk to see where everything went. Sarah didn’t know what she would have done without the help of the pretty Irish teen.

It was only as she watched the other girls sit on their beds, or climb under the sheets, that she realised all of them were doing this still naked. It had only just now dawned on her that she had not been issued any pyjamas. Sarah pulled back her top sheet and scooted under the covers.

“Murphy, you think it’s strange we don’t have any pyjamas?”
“Yeah, but I only slept in panties before anyway and really who cares,” replied Murphy. “I guess I could still wear panties but none of the other girls have bothered so why should I, besides we have a pair for each day, don’t wanna use em to wear to bed. And Porter, call me Murph.”

“Thanks Murph. I hope that you will be my friend, you seem really neat,” commented Sarah hesitantly. She hadn’t much experience with friends: making them or keeping them.

“Ah it’ll be grand Port,” beamed the Irish teen, propping her head up on one elbow to look at Sarah.

Sarah smiled as she propped her pillow up against the wall and sat up in bed, hugging the sheet across her chest. She had never had a nickname before and this small gesture of friendship almost overwhelmed her.

Most of the other girls were in bed as well, talking softly to the girls in the beds next to them. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed something on the wall beside her. She turned her head to look and noticed that a large metal ring about two inches in diameter hung from the wall. She looked around the room and noticed there were two of these above each bed. Sarah looked to her right and sure enough there was a second ring on the wall above her bed.

“Yeah, they are on the floor to, and in the lounge and in the gym as well. We have been trying to figure out what this place was before it was a school. Casta reckons it was an asylum but that chick is full of bollocks. Most of us just think it was an old manor house, the big gym court was probably for indoor tennis, they used to play that you know.”

Sarah looked hopefully at her new friend, but she wasn’t so sure.

CLANG. All heads turned to the doorway where a white metal gate had shut across the opening. It looked exactly like a prison gate: thick metal bars running from ceiling to floor, all within a rectangular frame. Sarah looked around the room in a panic but all the other girls were just settling down in bed. All lights in the room and the lounge outside went out simultaneously, plunging the room into darkness.

“Where the hell did that door come from,” whispered the terrified Sarah, the sudden eerie darkness making her feel frightened of making too much noise.

“It’s recessed in the wall, closes every night at nine sharp, lights out. It opens again at six, no need for an alarm clock.”

“But, but what if there’s a fire or something. Surely that’s against the law.”
“We aren’t supposed to talk after lights out. So night Port, see you in the morning.”

Murphy leaned out of her bed and extended an arm to Sarah. Sarah looked over, she could see the shape of Murphy’s bared breast in the gloom, her pale skin seemed to be glowing in the dim light. Sarah reached out and took Murphy’s extended hand and they squeezed together in mutual comfort, all too briefly.

Sarah lay back and looked at the huge glass skylights. Almost the entire ceiling was glass and as time went on the gloom receded enough for her to make out an occasional cloud and once or twice a fleeting glimpse of a star.

Sarah heard a strange muffled sound, coming from the other side of the room. She raised herself on her elbows and peered into the shadows. All the other girls lay flat in bed, but in the bed three down, the sheet was raised in a big tented shape. This was where the noise was coming from. It took Sarah only moments to realise it was Casta’s bed and she had drawn her legs up and was pleasuring herself.

Sarah didn’t think she could sleep, her mind was already whirling around with hundreds of thoughts intruding on one another, not allowing her the chance to fully focus on just one. But she was exhausted from the long flight and the degrading afternoon and evening at Harkwood. She slowly drifted off, the last moments before she slept filled with the soft moans of pleasure from the masturbating French girl.

Chapter 6. In which Sarah begins her schooling

Sarah woke with a start. She shot up in bed, disorientated. It took the bewildered teen a moment to remember where she was, the sight of a room full of naked girls emerging from their beds helping to cement her in time and space. The nudity of the pretty teens also reminded her of her own lack of clothing and she pulled the sheet up over her breasts.

Sarah couldn't believe that she had slept so soundly. She had not dreamed at all, at least she couldn't remember any of them. The last thing she remembered was looking at the ceiling and hearing the French girl pleasure herself under the covers. She lay back in bed and looked at the ceiling, the magnificent skylights allowing her to see the beautiful azure sky as they flooded the room with early morning sunlight. She watched as clouds skidded across the pale morning sky. She could stay in bed all day and watch this, she thought.

"Port, come on," urged a voice to her right.

Sarah looked over to see Murphy, already out of bed, toilet bag in hand. She sat up in bed again and noticed that most of the girls had already left the dorm.

"Hot water starts when the gate opens at six. Just ten minutes as usual."

Sarah almost jumped up out of bed. She was reticent to leave not only the comfort of the bed, and it was a wondrously comfortable mattress, but also the cover of the sheets. She dreaded walking around unprotected again. The amazing naked body of her alabaster-skinned friend, so close and so exposed did nothing but reinforce Sarah's own concerns about her lack of covering. She grabbed her bag and scurried into the showers remembering, with slight annoyance, to register her tag at each door.

She joined the other girls already lathering their bodies under the steaming water, jetting from all ten showerheads. Sarah sought out Murphy’s white form amongst the girls but noticed she was already sharing a showerhead with another girl. There was a space free next to the large-breasted girl called Mitchell that Murphy had pointed out to her last night. Sarah hung up her small mesh bag on her hook, noticing that all the cloth bags containing their clothes had been removed during the night.

"Hi I'm Mitchell," the buxom girl smiled at Sarah.

"Porter," Sarah offered.

"You're little," Mitchell stated, looking down at Sarah as she continued to run her blue-gloved hands over her body.

Sarah wasn't sure how to react. She knew she was the smallest girl here but Mitchell was only about five foot four. It wasn't like she towered over her. Sarah put on her own set of gloves from the alcove under the shower-head. It seemed like the gloves were just for universal use and obviously one-size fits all. She began washing herself, running the rough gloves over every inch of her flesh. When it came to washing between her legs she made sure to be quick. The rough gloves felt amazingly good on her sex and she didn't want any of the other girls to think she was playing with herself if she lingered.

"You're American?" questioned Mitchell as she ran her hands over her large breasts. Sarah marvelled at their size. They were clearly the largest of any girl in Trinity house. They were easily D but looked really good on her frame: broad-shouldered and thin-waisted, a real hourglass figure.

"Yeah I am," Sarah replied, continuing to watch as Mitchell washed her breasts, lifting them up and sliding her hand underneath. They were nowhere near as pert as her own breasts Sarah observed, but they were still pretty firm, almost as if the skin was having trouble holding them all in.

"You don't sound like a real American. Do you live in Hollywood?"

"No, I used to live in Washington." What the hell was a real American, Sarah thought.

"I would live in Hollywood. Do you like school?"

"Yes."

"I don't. I want to act and knowing how to spell or who the Prime Minister is won't help that. Do you like movies?"

"Yeah I guess," replied Sarah, now slightly bewildered by the barrage of nonsensical questions.

"I do too. Do you like Angelina?"

"Um yeah she's ok I guess."

"I do. I want to be just like her. I wanted to dye my hair like hers but my guardian said no. He has weird ideas, he wouldn't let me get a tattoo either."

"One minute," one of the girls yelled.

Thank god for that thought Sarah. She managed to quickly rinse off and get out of the showers before the hot water ran out, meeting up with Murphy after they had both snatched towels from the pile. Murphy was all smiles.

"Sorry Port, I saw you got caught up with Mitchell. Did she get started on Angelina Jolie?

"Yeah," cringed Sarah.

"Obsessed much."

Both girls laughed as they continued to dry their hair. Sarah started to notice a weird noise coming from the gaggle of naked teens to her left.  She looked at Murphy, eyebrows raised.

"Hair dryer," she answered the unasked question. There's just the one and we try to all have a fair go, best to get your hair as dry as you can first."

"Why didn't we use it last night?"

"It's only turned on for the morning shower. It's not like a normal one, it's just a big tube from the wall but it gets the job done. I brush my hair and use a towel while I wait, then I just use it to finish it off."

Sarah retrieved her brush with Murphy and waited her turn at the dryer. As the other girls started to disperse she got her first glimpse of the humming contraption. Murphy's description was pretty much spot on. It was just a big piece of ribbed tubing snaking from a hole in the wall down near the floor.

The tubing was around three feet long. Sarah could see a white section of plastic flipped up to reveal the hole in the wall into which it was plugged. It was currently being used by an Asian girl, bent over at the waist to allow the tubing to reach her hair.

Sarah waited a minute or two until the Asian girl finished and it was Murphy's turn. She watched as her friend took the tube and bent over and began to dry the remnants of moisture from her thick burgundy hair. Sarah could not help but notice the tight pink labia of Murphy's vagina poking out between her legs. There was no hair on her sex itself, just a thin thatch of red curls on her mons. The young girl looked casually around the room and then glanced back at the peeking pussy. She could only see Murphy's outer lips, those delicate inner folds hidden entirely. Sarah knew that this is what hers would look like when she went to dry her own hair and she blushed at the mere thought of it.

She didn't want to be accused of anything perverted so she stepped to the side, but even there she was treated to a view of Murphy's pure white breasts hanging pendant beneath the teen’s bent body, pale blue veins visible beneath the alabaster skin. She watched as Murphy's shiny red hair was blown in waves around the teen’s head and bent body. It was beautiful, almost cinematic she thought.

Murphy straightened up and handed the tube to Sarah to use. She hesitatingly bent over and began to dry her hair, knowing what a sight she was causing for the remaining girls waiting. She focused on drying her hair as quickly as possible so she could straighten up and get out of there. Once dry she handed the tube to the next girl, moved away and brushed her hair a few last times in the mirrors over the basin to ensure it was looking nice. She had to admit, the gentle blowdrying action of the air from the tube had made her slightly wavy hair look beautiful and soft. It cascaded down across her shoulders, seeming even fuller than usual. It just wasn't long enough to fully come down and cover her chest though, at the front the tips just brushing the top her breasts.

Sarah left the shower room, picking up her bag on the way. When she got back to the dorm she noticed it was a hive of activity, her classmates in various states of undress. It was definitely a sight to see: seventeen girls all getting dressed in the exact same clothes in the exact same way - socks, shoes, panties, bra, skirt, blouse, tie.

Sarah made her way to her own cupboard and began to clothe herself. She was soon standing once again in the high heels, the familiar stretching sensation in her calves was back but it did not seem to be as bad as the day before, but then again Sarah thought, the day hasn't even really begun yet. At least there would be a lot of sitting during class she thought. As she slipped her panties up her legs she tried to get an idea of the day ahead.

"So what happens next Murph?"

"Breakfast is at seven sharp. We have to be in the food hall by then, not just getting there. We get served before all the other girls, which is pretty good. Today is different though, because after that I guess we have class. Up till now we have just been spending our days together, mostly in the lounge so I'm not really sure."

Sarah continued to dress, adjusting her breasts into her bra and quickly adding her skirt, blouse and tie. She had noticed that all the other girls with long hair had put theirs up in ponytails so Sarah took the hairband she had been issued and followed suit, leaving a few stray strands to frame her face, as the hair was a little too short around her fringe to make it into the tail.

The uniformed teen then stepped over to join Murphy at the big mirror at the end of the dorm. This was the first time she had a chance to see herself in uniform. What a sight she made. From head to toe she looked the quintessential schoolgirl. Sarah had to admit that she did look cute in the uniform. She actually doubted that anyone from her old school would even recognise her out of her baggy, layered clothing.

Her legs were slim and the high heels made them seem even more toned. The bands of colour on her legs looked more than a little sexy: white socks to the knee, then the flesh of her thigh until it met the blue of her pleated skirt. The blouse was tight across her chest and the pretty sleeves high up on her arms accentuated her lithesomeness.

Sarah looked herself in the eye. She definitely did look cute, from her straight, small button nose, her pouty lips framing her little mouth to her wide brown eyes. But the whole look was ruined by the small metal tag dangling from her left ear. Sarah could not help but focus on it. It was the only piece of jewellery she was wearing and it hung so prominently when her hair was up.

"Port you are so cute," observed Murphy standing next to her, watching her in the mirror.

"Thanks Murph," Sarah blushed. "You are beautiful though. You could so be a model." This was not just empty flattery. Sarah thought the Irish teen was one of the most beautiful girls she had ever seen, much more attractive than half the stick-thin, so called supermodels.

"Ah Port, not sure about that. Who would want to do that, having people perv on you all day and just stand around wearing weird clothes."

Both girls laughed and headed out of the dorm, ready for their first day of school.

"Don't we have to make our beds?" inquired Sarah, seeing the 18 dishevelled beds in the dorm.

"Nah, they are made by the maid. It's great, it's like being in a hotel. We haven't seen her do them but a couple of girls got a glimpse of her one day. She was in a proper uniform too, you know those little black and white things they used to wear in the olden days. She even had the little hat on. It was so cool," Murphy described enthusiastically.

All the girls were just hanging around in the lounge, sitting on the platforms or standing in small groups. Sarah wondered why they hadn't already headed down to the food hall, so she asked her friend.

"Well we have to get there before seven but it's still a quarter to. We have to get there before but not too much before. A few of the girls got in trouble one day because they were just milling around too early. They each got an infraction for that."

"What are those Murph? They go on our permanent record but what do we get from them, detention or something.”

“Not sure. We all have one. Most of the girls have one, I think Mitchell has two though."

Sarah's heart sank. Most of the girls have one, she had said. And how many did she have? Nine or was it ten?

"How many do you have Port, probably none, hey, seeing as you were only here for an afternoon."

"Um, I have nine I think," replied the crestfallen teen.

'Holy shit," exclaimed her friend. "I am so sorry. Maybe it won't be so bad seeing that school hadn't even started yet," Murphy said with little conviction.

"Shh, here comes Miss Peach," whispered one of the girls.

Every schoolgirl stood instantly at attention. In one second the humiliation of the previous day was slammed back into the forefront of Sarah's brain.

"What is going on here?" bellowed Miss Peach. "Why aren't you lined up? This isn't some lazy holiday. School has started. Haven't any of you slovenly girls read your school rules? Now get lined up. Two lines in front of the door. One to nine here, ten to eighteen here."

There was a frantic shuffling as the girls moved themselves into the positions they had been shown, lining up according to the numbers assigned to their beds.

"Right line move to your right, closer to the other. Keep moving, closer. Until you are almost touching," commanded the housemistress, her stern voice accompanied by the sounds of nine pairs of high heels shuffling on the hard wooden floors.

"Tighten up the lines, close those gaps. You should be close to the girl in front but not touching."

There was more shuffling as the girls took tiny steps forward to close the gaps producing two near solid lines of uniformed teen flesh.

"Before scanning you are to state your student number, loudly and clearly. If there is any discrepancy between your number and the readout you are to report to me immediately. Now because of your time wasting you are going to have to hurry to get to breakfast on time. You will move out in order, remaining in orderly lines, no running. Once you have cleaned up after breakfast you are to report back here. Move it."

The first girl exploded into movement, quickly stating her number, scanning her tag and moving off briskly down the corridor. Each girl followed, seemingly in a game of follow the leader. Down the corridor and two flights of stairs the extended line of schoolgirls snaked, ending at the door to the food hall where the two identical columns of girls reformed.

Sarah was desperately hoping they had arrived in time, she assumed the punishment for lateness was missing out on the meal as she had done last night with dinner. She was ravenous now, having not eaten anything for more than 16 hours. She realised if she had looked at the clock before leaving the lounge she would know if they had made it. She cursed herself for not remembering and she was angry that she had let herself down. She had to start early in reversing that behaviour.

There was a metallic clang from inside the food hall and the lines of girls were moving. Obviously this was the signal that breakfast was served, the bewildered teen mused. She glanced at the clock as she entered and there it was seven o'clock on the dot. Her classmates moved directly to the front of the hall, each girl picking up a plastic tray as they moved along the bench.

Behind the counter there were four women. Mrs Lancaster was the only one Sarah recognised. There seemed to be three stations. At the first Sarah was handed a bowl of porridge. It was a lumpy goop the colour of cream. She had heard of porridge but she had never had it. Wisps of steam rose from the hot contents of the plastic bowl. Next a piece of doughy bread was added to the tray and lastly a small glass of orange juice. Sarah picked up a plastic spoon and left the counter, following the girl in front of her.

It seemed the girls were headed to the very far corner of the room. When Sarah arrived she noticed that these two tables were different from the rest in the room. All the other tables had plastic chairs. They were now all situated under the tables but Sarah had seen them all stacked neatly atop them last night when she had watched her handler devour a late supper.

But the two tables that the Trinity girls were seating themselves at had small, round plastic stools that extended from the floor on single metal poles. They were obviously not movable. As the other girls seated themselves, Sarah noticed that the stools were set back from the tables causing each girl to lean forward to eat their meals.

Sarah positioned herself on the stool next to Murphy, placing her tray on the table in front. As she sat down she noticed that the flesh of her bare buttocks was in contact with the stool. She looked down the row and noticed the skirts of all the girls flared out behind the stools, completely hiding the round plastic seats, creating the illusion that the girls were sitting on the poles themselves. The sensation was strange, she knew she was clothed but the feeling of her bare buttocks on the seat made her feel like she wasn't wearing anything at all.

"We reckon it's to stop the spillage of food on our uniforms but we are the only house who uses these seats so... It's one of those weird things Port and as you are noticing there's quite a few,” volunteered her friend as she stirred her porridge.

Sarah looked at the other girls already eating their breakfast and decided it was best to start.  She leant forward on the stool and dipped her spoon in the porridge. She noticed that to eat properly she had to lean quite a way forward and to spread her knees a little to keep her balance. The first spoonful of porridge she brought to her mouth looked dreadful. It honestly looked like something someone had already eaten and spat out, but it smelt quite nice and when she finally tasted it she was pleasantly surprised. It was nice and sweet, completely at odds with the way it looked.

Sarah was soon joining the other girls in greedily devouring the small morning meal. It was not long before her bowl was almost empty and she was using her piece of thick doughy bread to clean up the last few bits sticking to the side.

She had to admit, she might not have sat more uncomfortably to have breakfast but she had rarely had a better tasting one. She was beginning to sip her orange juice, which still contained the pulp, just the way she liked it, when the other girls from the school started to meander through the doorway in ones or twos. Sarah sat back on her stool and watched the other Harkwood girls.

She was about to turn to Murphy to ask a question when she glanced under her table. She was shocked to discover that she could see straight up the skirt of the girl opposite. She could see the girl’s white panties as they met the black base of the stool, the flesh of bare thighs compressed against the smooth plastic seat. Sarah's eyes flicked along under the table as far as she could see from this angle and saw another two pairs of white panties framed by the spread thighs and taut blue school skirt. This was what she must have looked like while eating her breakfast. She lowered her eyes as she felt her face start to heat up. All thoughts of talking to her friend momentarily forgotten in her humiliation.

The lunchroom soon filled with the sounds of hundreds of girls chattering away. Sarah finished her orange juice and turned to Murphy who was watching the girls from the other houses. She was about to speak when she noticed one of the Trinity girls at the second table stand. Sarah glanced up and noticed that Mrs Lancaster was coming towards their tables.

Sarah stood up, stepped behind her stool and stood at attention. She looked straight ahead, into the eyes of the girl across the table. The pretty teen gave her the briefest of smiles. Sarah didn't even know her name, she would have to make more of an effort throughout the coming days to get to know the other girls in her house. She couldn't just stick with Murphy the whole time.

"Morning girls."

"Morning Ma'am," all 18 Trinity girls intoned.

"I know you haven't been issued with your Trinity house manual yet so I am here to explain the Food Hall rules. Trinity house eats first at the breakfast meal. This is to allow you time to finish your meal before commencing clean-up duty. As soon as all the girls from the other houses have been served and seated you are to bring up your trays and then you can begin to clear the tables as the other girls finish. You will know when all the girls have been served when the small red light above the counter goes on, this denotes end of service.

"There are 18 stations around the walls of the room. They are all marked. You find your station and begin clearing tables as you see other students finish and leave. Don't worry about them dawdling over meals, they have places to be too. Place all empty trays on the counter, they will be dealt with by the staff. Once tables are clear they are to be cleaned and all chairs are to be neatly tucked underneath."

Sarah watched as the pretty girl’s face across from her moved into a frown. Obviously this had not been how the meals had gone here previously.

"You are to clear your sections first, and only then may you move on to other sections. Once all sections are clear you are to move back to your station and the staff will provide a final inspection. Once approved you are to move off to class. This hall must be spotless by 8:20. You don't leave until it is and if that means you are late for class then so be it. Is all that clear?"

"Yes Ma'am," the girls replied in unison.

With that she turned around and walked back into the kitchen. As she left, the Trinity girls sat down slowly, finishing their breakfasts if they had not already done so.

"Well that sucks, we have to clean up after everyone? Every time? This is getting stupid," said a pretty blonde girl at the end of the table.

Sarah looked at the tables around her, at the girls from the other houses. A number of them were looking at her with disdain and some groups were looking over and laughing, obviously making fun of the girls from Trinity house, the small group of girls at the school that were treated so differently.

Honestly, thought Sarah, there better be some pretty good payoff for all this. Hopefully a guaranteed placement at some top university or something. Murphy just sat next to Sarah quietly pondering.

"Penny?"

"Sorry?"

"Penny for your thoughts," Sarah elaborated.

"Just thinking. She said after every meal but she didn't say for how long. I thought maybe it was a different houses turn every few weeks or something. Like a roster. But she said that there were specifically 18 positions. Eighteen girls in Trinity house. That's not a coincidence. It looks like we are stuck with this for good."

"Lights on," whispered someone. Almost as one the girls from Trinity house stood up. They all picked up their trays and moved through the tables full of other girls to the counter at the front of the room. As they moved past the tables they caught snippets of conversation, most of it about them and most of it derogatory. Sarah wasn't sure why, if it was only Trinity house doing all these humiliating tasks, the other houses had such dislike for them.

Once their trays were stacked on the counter the girls scattered throughout the room looking for their station. Sarah and Murphy stuck together, knowing that station three should be right next to station four. They headed straight for the walls and began to walk around the room.

Sarah soon noticed what the stations they were after looked like. She saw a small '16' stencilled on the floor. They continued walking along the wall of the room. The next number they saw was a '7'. It was then that it dawned on both of the girls that the numbers weren't in order. They looked across the room and noticed that the same realisation was being made by all the Trinity students, a collective epiphany. Sarah noticed that the Asian girl had found her station but she was the only one.

Sarah and Murphy began to move faster. They kept moving around the wall, trying to be systematic and ensure they found their station as fast as possible. Sarah noticed that Mitchell had panicked and was starting to move from one side of the room to the other looking for her number. She had sympathy for the girl but couldn't spare the time to help her.

There was '3'. Murphy clasped Sarah's hand and squeezed before standing at attention facing into the room. They hadn't been told to stand at attention but it made sense, with staff and prefects possibly moving around the room. She had to walk past two more empty stations and another that was occupied by the tall black-haired teen before she found the '4' stencilled on the ground. Sarah dutifully stood at attention. Her eyes rested briefly on the clock, it read 7:46. She hoped that the seated schoolgirls would hurry up and finish their breakfast as she wasn't sure how long it would take to clear all these trays.

It was then that she saw Mitchell still frantically moving around looking for her station. Sarah watched with relief as the large-breasted teen noticed the only empty spot around the walls and hurried there.

They didn't have long to wait before the other girls began to get up from their tables and leave the food hall. Sarah began to watch her section, waiting for a table to be fully emptied. It was 7:54 and she had only just started to clear her section. She was worried now that they would not be able to clear the room in just over 20 minutes.

Sarah moved to her first empty table and collected all the bowls and spoons and glasses together on the one tray, stacking up all the empty trays underneath. She had stacked nine trays from her table before she started to take them up to the counter, making sure she carried them far enough away from her body to prevent her blouse getting dirty. As she arrived she noticed other girls were depositing their own stacked trays.

She turned and rushed immediately back to her station to clear her remaining tables. The last of the other students were exiting the food hall, leaving just Sarah and her housemates scurrying around the room clearing tables and busing trays. As she returned her second set to the counter she noticed Mitchell returning with one tray in each hand. Sarah couldn't believe that the stupid girl was bringing up only two trays at a time. They would be here all morning at that rate.

"Mitchell, stack the trays on top of each other like everyone else, see," Sarah pointed to the piles of stacked trays on the counter.

"Thanks," said the clearly distressed teen.

As she picked up a dishcloth from the counter Sarah wondered if Mitchell knew that she was dumb. She thought it must be terrible not to be able to comprehend such simple things. She wiped down the two tables she had cleared and pushed the chairs in under the tables, before moving on to the next table in her section. Sarah had worried about cleaning the whole room but almost all the trays had disappeared now and most girls were wiping down their areas with the small, damp cloth they had been issued.

Sarah took the last set of trays to the counter and hurried back to her section, cleaning and straightening the last two tables. She looked around and spotted a table in another section and went to wipe it down. It only took another couple of minutes before the rest of the room was cleaned and straightened. The eighteen teenagers moved back to their stations as they had been instructed. Sarah glanced at the clock, it was 8:16. They had done it. It was strange but Sarah felt a definite sense of achievement for completing the task.

Once all the girls were back on station, Mrs Lancaster and the other three women came out of the kitchen and began to walk around the room, checking each table.

"These chairs here are not straight. There are numerous tables with chairs out of alignment. The backs of the chairs have to be in a straight line with the table, one inch from the edge. Move it."

There was a mad scramble as girls rushed to fix the alignment of the chairs, desperately hoping to get it done in time. Each girl could only worry about her own section, there simply wasn't time to check too far afield. In only a minute all girls were back on station and standing at attention, hoping the second inspection had been passed. The four women critically eyed every table and chair.

"It will pass," conceded Mrs Lancaster and the four women walked back into the kitchen.

Sarah smiled and glanced quickly at the clock. Her spirits sank as she saw it was 8:22. They had competed their task, yes, but they had gone over time. She wasn't sure what would happen but as with failing to do anything she was sure it wouldn't be good. It occurred to all the girls at once that they had been dismissed and they hurried, almost as one unit, back to their dorm.

Miss Peach was waiting for them when they arrived.

"Your form class starts at 8:30. You had better hurry. Room 2C. Everyone be sure to take your studies box marked '11'."

All eighteen girls rushed the doorway to the dorm at once. There was an immediate bottleneck as they scrambled to register on the way in, snatch the larger of their two sealed boxes and head back into the lounge, the outgoing girls getting in the way of the incoming girls still trying to register. Sarah realised quickly how important being on time really was. The need to register between each doorway slowed things down immensely.

The scurrying gaggle of girls hurried out of the lounge and down the stairs. Sarah had no idea where room 2C was but luckily the building had a fairly linear plan. Their form room was the third room down the corridor from the first floor landing. When Sarah arrived the girls were all forming themselves into two neat lines. No one was sure they had to do this but it seemed it had simply started to happen.

There was a lot of shuffling and jockeying for position as the girls arrived in random order, each carrying the large cardboard box in front of them. There were no clocks in the corridor so it was impossible to tell if they were on time or late, or indeed if they were early and would have to wait. The two rows of tightly packed teenage flesh had only just settled down when a loud electronic bell sounded throughout the school. Sarah looked around but could not see any sort of loudspeaker system, but she assumed this was what was being used and the strangely muted sound was the call to class.

The door in front of them swung open. A tall, Amazonian figure stepped into the corridor to survey the silent and still group of girls. The woman was six foot tall with long, pitch-black hair that hung straight down, framing her angular face. She had a little dark mascara on each eye that gave her an exotic look. A look accentuated by her full figure. She was definitely a beauty, thought Sarah. Lucky she was in an all girl school, because the boys at her old school would be left drooling on their desks if they had her as a teacher.

“You each have an assigned seat. Proceed inside and stand next to your position.”

Her voice was strong and sonorous but her manner of speaking was crisp and clipped. It was an odd combination, thought Sarah. She was hopeful. She felt a good vibe from this woman. She couldn’t say why, and she laughed a little to herself for using the term ‘good vibe’ but she couldn’t think of any other way to put it.

The girls moved into the room in order, from one to eighteen, as their little experience so far today had shown them. Inside the room were eighteen desks arrayed in three rows of five and a final row, at the back of the room, of three. The first girl inside the room, scanned her eartag and moved to the far desk in the front row and stood at attention beside it. Each girl simply followed suit, filling up the desks from front to back.

Sarah had never seen a classroom like this one – it was definitely not what she was expecting. The other classrooms she had glimpsed on her tour last night had been the standard setup: rows of desks, blackboard at the front, teachers desk in the front corner and assorted cupboards and project stuff scattered around the walls. But this room was…well this room was something else.

The desks next to each girl looked more like something out of a science fiction movie than a school desk. They were made of a clear Perspex-like material and were shaped like a pushed over capital U, all curves and smooth lines. The top of the desk curved around to the right, allowing each girl to slip their legs under from the left. The contoured plastic split into two tines as it reached the floor, leaving the large space directly under the desk, where each girls feet would rest, open to the bare wooden floor.

The seat was once again a round black plastic stool, almost identical to those reserved for Trinity house in the food hall. The only difference Sarah observed as she took up her position at her desk was that here the metal poles seemed to slot directly into holes in the floor, not moulded into it as in the food hall.

At the front of the room was a raised platform, very much like those in the Trinity lounge but this one was rectangular, around four feet long and set out three feet from the front wall. Where the teacher’s desk was usually located was instead a high-backed beautiful red leather chair, inset with hundreds of brass studs. In the opposite corner at the front of the room sat a tall wooden stool, its four legs projecting the seat almost four feet off the ground. The far wall contained a number of large windows, under which was a row of cupboards that ran almost the length of the room.

The only real sense of normalcy the room had was a large blackboard at the front of the room. This was the most black black-board that Sarah had ever seen, it looked like it had never been used. The teacher stood by the door and watched each girl enter the room and stand by their desks. When the last girl was in position, she closed the door and moved over to stand by her chair.

"Sit," she commanded.

There was a noise of shuffling as each girl sat at her assigned stool and slid her legs under her desk. Sarah felt the familiar sensation of the bare flesh of her thighs and buttocks on the plastic surface under her. She knew that the stool each girl sat on would be completely hidden from view. The stiff pleats of each girl’s skirt flared past their ass just enough so that when they sat was there was no chance of folding it under them. Each girl, after adjusting herself on the small round seat, placed their large sealed cardboard box on the clear desk in front of them.

"Stand."

A few girls looked at each other but they all dutifully stood up and moved back to attention beside their assigned desks.

"Pick up those boxes. Who told you to place those boxes on your desks?" questioned the teacher imperiously. Not a girl answered. They all just stood there staring ahead worriedly. "That is correct girls, no one told you to place those boxes on your desks," purred the teacher as she paced back and forth in front of them. "Sit."

Once again all eighteen girls sat in unison, sliding their legs under the desks almost as if it was a choreographed. This time each girl made sure to hold the box in both hands above the clear surface of their desks.

"You will not be needing the contents of those boxes in this first form period so you will place them under the desk and between your feet but your feet are not to touch the boxes. We don't want your pretty shoes to be scuffed on the first day. Do so now."

Sarah twisted to her left and placed her box under her desk, slid her legs back under, straightening her right leg so it went over the top of the box. She looked down through her desk to make sure the box was in the middle and her feet were on either side. She was satisfied she had done it correctly and rested her arms on the top of her desk, waiting for the teacher’s next command.

"Stand," the command rang out through the classroom. "Pick up those boxes," the teacher bellowed.

Sarah groaned inwardly. What had they done wrong now? She leant down, grabbed her box and stood again beside her desk, wondering when they would be finally allowed to sit down and stay seated. The overbearing woman continued to pace back and forth in front of the confused teenagers.

"Do you girls understand the concept of standing at attention," she asked, stopping in front of the girl next to Sarah. "You Clark, answer."

"Yes Ma'am," replied the quivering girl.

"Enlighten us."

"It is when we have to stand up with our backs straight, our legs wide to our shoulders and our arms behind our backs."

"Hmmm, half right and sloppy," the teacher said disappointedly. She turned to Sarah, "Porter enlighten us with your knowledge."

"Ma'am standing at attention is the position a girl of Trinity house is to adopt when standing in the presence of a superior. It is standing with the feet shoulder width apart, backs straight, arms behind the back with elbows back and our hands are to rest in the small of our backs with the right palm in the left."

"Correct Porter, good girl. That is almost textbook."

Sarah inwardly beamed. This was her element now. She was a good student, all her teachers had always said so. When she got into the classroom her brain just kicked into gear. Her first chance to prove herself to her new teacher had gone so well she had been complimented. She was just a little surprised how comforting it was to be told she was a good girl. She figured that the previous day where nothing had gone right and where she had felt so vulnerable had put her in this delicate frame of mind.

"Do you all understand what Porter has just stated," the teacher asked the class.

"Yes Ma'am," they replied together.

"Sitting in class is no different. You are in the presence of a superior and you are to keep proper posture, not leaning slovenly all over your desks." Sarah cringed, knowing that she was one of the reasons they were standing up again.

"Sit."

Once all the girls had sat down on their meagre stools, they waited, holding their boxes out in front of them off the surface of the table. They waited, watching the teacher pace along the front of the room and down the side. As she passed their desks the girls could no longer watch her as to do so they would have to turn their head, something they all knew would get them in trouble. They all knew they were being watched and that if any girl’s box touched the desk they would be made to stand again.

As she sat holding her box off her desk, Sarah realised how degrading it was to be told to sit and stand and sit. It was like being treated like a dog. She hadn't thought about it while it was happening, she was too busy trying to do the right thing. The shame of being treated like that somehow made being called a good girl all the more important.

"Boxes down."

Sarah slid to the side again and went to place her box on the ground under her desk when she was stopped by the bellow of the teacher.

"Stand."

What now, thought Sarah. She had not even managed to get her box on the ground.

"Mitchell, when everyone else sits, you remain standing."

Sarah groaned inwardly. If they were going to be punished as a class for everything that one of them did wrong, with Mitchell there they would be here forever.

"Sit." Now it was getting tiresome Sarah thought as she sat once again, though now she was more consciously aware of being treated like a dog being trained. "Boxes down."

Sarah gently set her box under her desk, placed her feet to either side and took a quick glance down to make sure everything was correctly placed. She marvelled at the clear desktop that allowed her to do this but realised, just as she straightened up to sit at attention, just how she was sitting.

Her feet were on either side of the large sealed box, causing her legs to be spread widely creating a taut tent of skirt across the top of her thighs. She knew that as she sat up straighter and placed her hands in the small of her back that this would only accentuate the lewd position she was displaying. She began to feel the familiar flush of heat up her chest and throat as she thought of the teacher seeing her bare thighs creating a tunnel of flesh to her panty clad sex. 

Sarah desperately wanted to lower her eyes in shame but she didn't want to be the cause of them having to repeat the whole process over again because she was not looking forward.

"Now Mitchell, do you see what happened when I said boxes down?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Now what was different to what you did?"

"I put my box on the table and not under it Ma'am."

"Right first time, now sit," directed the teacher, emphasizing the last word. She was standing directly in front of Mitchell watching her every move.

"Box down."

Sarah heard the teacher move back to the front of the class and soon saw her move into view. She walked over and sat in the leather chair, crossing her legs and smoothing out the long flowing blue dress down her shapely calves.

"The one difference while sitting at attention in a classroom is your focus. You are here to learn and for that you need to focus on what is important. While I am speaking that is me." Instantly eighteen sets of eyes moved to the teacher.

“My name is Miss Watson. I am your form teacher, which means I will also be your primary teacher. What that means is that I will be taking many of your classes. Now form class is usually only 30 minutes in length and is used mainly for housekeeping issues. Seeing as how you have already wasted half this class however it seems that we will have to spill over into the first class, so you will be making that time up at the end of the day."

Sarah wanted to look at the clock, to see how much time had already elapsed but she realised the clock was on the back wall of the room.

"First order of each form class is dealing with infractions accrued since the previous form period." As she spoke, Sarah watched her open a drawer in the small cabinet next to her chair and flip up what looked like a laptop screen. "When I call your name come here, register at the scanner," at this she indicated a small stalk that projected from the top of the laptop screen that was blinking with red laser lights. "Then move onto the platform in the front of the room, facing the class.

"Olsen."

As her name was called the girl in the first seat stood up and walked hesitantly in front of the class. She leaned over to scan her tag as shown and stepped up onto the dais slowly, as the almost two-foot high step in high heels was not an easy one. Once she was up she turned around to face the class and stood at attention. Sarah could see the fear on her face. None of the girls really knew what to expect and being first was always the worst.

Sarah looked back to the teacher as she stood up. She moved around behind the leather chair and emerged with a long, thin supple piece of wood in her hand. Sarah's eyes widened in confusion and fear. She had dreaded that the school would have corporal punishment, she had read that quite a few schools in Europe still used it but the sight of that innocuous rod made her shiver in horror.

"This is a cane. This is what is used to help instruct you in understanding the rules we have at Harkwood and to help you realise the importance of their observance and the repercussions of the failure to do so."

Sarah's eyes never left the cane as Miss Watson swished it lazily through the air as she spoke. She was dreading what was to come but the sense of the inevitable was deadening her.

"For each infraction one stroke of the cane is received. Once ten infractions are accrued you will be set detention. If ten infractions are accrued in one session an extra five strokes are to be added to the correction. I can see from your faces that the importance of obedience and following rules is beginning to become clear.”

"Murphy, what is important to you?"

"Being obedient and following rules Ma'am."

"And getting good grades, doing well at your schoolwork. Is this important to you?"

"Yes Ma'am, it is very important."

"So Murphy what is important to you?" Miss Watson said, resting the tip of the cane on Murphy's desktop.

"Being obedient, following rules and doing well at my schoolwork Ma'am," replied Murphy desperate to give the right answer.

Sarah felt for her friend, knowing how confusing it was to be asked questions when you aren't sure of the answer. But to have an imperious Amazon of a teacher, casually menacing you with a cane must add a real element of fear to the confusion. Murphy had done really well to keep her composure, even though her voice had trembled a little.

"Porter, what is important to you?"

"Obedience, following the rules, excelling in my schoolwork and pleasing my superiors Ma'am," Sarah replied, hoping her embellishments were the right thing to say. They seemed right to her, it was how she felt.

"Well Porter those are the right priorities for a girl. Do you think you will be able to fulfil those claims?"

"Yes Ma'am," replied Sarah moving her gaze from the tip of the cane that rested on her desk to the face of her teacher.

She tried to keep the confidence in her voice but she was beginning to feel confused and unsure under the stern gaze of Miss Watson. Sarah could not look her teacher in the eye for long, instead looking at the moist pink lips as they crept into a smile. Sarah began to smile back but it faltered before it was fully realised. The smile on her teacher’s lips had no warmth in it and it made Sarah shiver.

"Olsen," Miss Watson snapped as she spun around to face the teen standing on the platform, the cane swishing in a wide arc. "As with everything for a girl of Trinity house there is a correct position for receiving correction. Turn around and face the blackboard. Put your ankles together so they almost touch. Now bend over at the waist."

Sarah watched as the first girl to go in front of the class and be caned bent over at the waist. She could see that the young girl was already shaking, her thighs visibly quivering as her skirt rode up and her upper body moved parallel to the ground.

"Flick your skirt up to rest on your back."

The now terrified teen reached back to comply, her shaking hands taking hold of her skirt on either side and drawing the stiff fabric up onto her lower back. Her ass was now bared to the class, the small white panties could be seen covering her sex. The sliver of tight material that went between her stretched buttocks before flaring out and framing her ass as they encircled her waist did nothing to cover her puckered anus. Sarah was horrified but could not look away.

"Place your hands around your ankles, your thumb and forefinger are to follow the ankle strap as a guide. Keep those knees straight," snapped Miss Watson tapping the back of the frightened schoogirl’s legs. The quivering knees instantly straightened. Miss Watson moved to the side of the girl, giving the whole class a perfect view of the elevated teenage ass and legs. Sarah was sitting slightly to the side and could just see Olsen's face, her eyes wide and panicked.

"Olsen, one infraction," Miss Watson read from the screen beside her chair. She walked back to stand beside the bent-over teen. She raised the cane and tapped it against the bare ass presented to the class. Olsen whimpered as the supple wood touched her tender flesh.

"Once in position you are to remain in position until ordered. After each stroke, you are to count the stroke aloud and thank your corrector. At the completion of the correction you are to stand up, turn around, face your corrector and thank them, curtsy and take your seat."

Miss Watson had not stopped tapping the cane against the buttocks of the exposed teen as she spoke. The vulnerable mounds of flesh were just below the shoulder height of the towering teacher. Without any warning Miss Watson swung the cane back in line with her body, pointing the tip at the class, and brought it down with force against the bared buttocks before her.

SWICK. The sharp sound of the cane hitting the tender flesh made every girl in the room cringe. It took a second for the pain to register through the surprise but the high pitched squeal unleashed by Olsen brought a tear to Sarah's eye.

"One, thank you Ma'am," Olsen sobbed obediently. She had managed to keep hold of her ankles, and to remain in position despite the pain that had rocked her body.

“If you break position, the stroke does not count. If you fail to count, the stroke does not count. If you fail to show respect to your corrector, the stroke does not count. If you fail to speak loudly and clearly, the stroke does not count.”

As Miss Watson made this speech every seated girl had their eyes glued to the quivering white skin of Olsen’s bare behind. A clear red welt was appearing directly across both cheeks. As they watched the welt became a raised ridge of throbbing pain, deepening in colour.

“Sit.”

Olsen straightened up gingerly, turned to face the class and tenderly stepped down off the platform. She turned to Miss Watson thanked her for being corrected, curtsyed and walked back to her desk. She sat gingerly, easing her aching behind onto the hard plastic stool.

“Cox. What an interesting name.”

The next terrified teen stood up, registered her tag and moved towards the platform. She knew what was coming now and she was already taking deep breaths, telling herself it would be ok. The comment about her name almost didn’t register, she had always copped a lot of flak for it but her mother had been to Harkwood and had even been in Trinity house and she was determined to make her proud. Cox stepped up onto the platform and immediately assumed the correct position, awaiting the terrible cane stroke she knew was coming.

“Cox, one infraction.”

SWICK. There was no preamble this time. Even though every girl knew it was coming, the harsh slap of the cane smacking into the delicate skin of the young girl made them jump.

“One, thank you Ma’am.”

“Sit.”

Cox straightened, curtsyed and thanked Miss Watson with quivering lips and took her seat.

“Murphy.”

Sarah looked at her friend as she mounted the platform and bent over, obediently exposing her milky buttocks and thighs. She looked more than ever like a doll made of fine china. Sarah didn’t want to watch this, but she knew she had to.

“Murphy, two infractions.”

SWICK.

“One thank you ma’am,” Murphy squeaked.

She had taken a tiny step forward with her right foot but managed to straighten up almost immediately. Sarah looked desperately to Miss Watson to see if that would be counted as breaking position. All she saw was the cane being drawn back again and this time she saw rather than heard the cane land.

It was almost as if time had slowed down. She saw the cane come rushing in to her friend’s vulnerable behind. She watched as the cane impacted the flesh of both cheeks, flattening them momentarily and creating ripples radiating through the soft flesh. Then time sped up and she heard the cry as the Irish teen felt the impact of her second stroke.

“Two thank you Ma’am,” she dutifully commented, though in obvious distress.

“Sit.”

Sarah watched her friend curtsy and sit down, trying to catch her eye, to lend her some support but Murphy kept her eyes downcast, small tear droplets visible as she blinked. Sarah’s heart went out to her new friend. She felt so sorry that she had to go through that and she desperately wanted to give her a hug.

“Porter.”

Sarah stood up gingerly. She had been so focused on the other girls, empathising with their plight, that she had all but forgotten that she was a girl in this class and that she would soon be expected to go through this ordeal. She moved to the scanner and waited for the beep before moving up to the dais. She was careful as she stepped up, ensuring her whole foot was flat and secure before stepping totally onto the platform. She took one step forward, took a deep breath and bent over, ensuring her legs were together. She reached back with trembling hands to pull her skirt up to rest on her back. She let out her breath and clasped her ankles firmly with her hands, being sure to keep her knees straight.

She immediately began to feel the strain of the position in her calves and the back of her thighs. She was not used to stretching this way, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had touched her toes. Now she had to wait. Her face had already flushed a deep crimson from the embarrassment of her position, showing her behind to the class, and especially her asshole, something she had never expected anyone else to ever see. Now waiting, bent over, she could feel the blood rush to her face as well. She had also felt her breasts shift in her bra, due to the design her breasts were actually hanging free at the moment, she hoped they would re-seat themselves when she stood up. The last thing she wanted was to have to fondle her breasts in front of the class.

“Porter, nine infractions.”

The class let out a collective gasp. They had just seen a girl receive two strokes of the cane. They knew that no one else had any more than two but the new girl, the girl that had been here less than a day had nine! Sarah could already feel the tears start to form. What would the other girls think of her now? She could talk the talk in class seemingly but she now appeared to be a troublemaker. She wanted to turn around and explain to the girls of her house that it wasn’t like that. She was still fretting over how the other girls felt when pain exploded in her plump buttocks.

The shock had taken her completely by surprise. She thought she would have at least heard some warning swish as the cane moved through the air. The pain felt like someone had taken a knife and slashed her. If she hadn’t already seen the affect the cane had on three other girls she would have been sure she was bleeding.

“One, thank you Ma’am.”

SWICK. The second stroke impacted her backside the instant she had finished speaking. Her left foot shuffled forwards slightly but the abused teen had the presence of mind to bring it back in line before responding to her second stroke.

CRACK. The third stroke left Sarah breathless. She almost choked as she tried to speak.

“Three, thank you Ma’am, “ Sarah croaked as loudly as she could.

“Can anyone tell me why Porter is having trouble speaking?” Miss Watson enquired of the horrified girls. “Raise your right hand to answer.”

“Carew.”

“Because she is in pain Ma’am?”

“Incorrect. Anyone else? No? Well surely she is in pain. That is the entire point of the correction, to impress upon you the importance of appropriate behaviour. Spare the rod and spoil the child. There is no better learning tool than the judicial application of pain for correction. Don’t you agree Olsen?”

“Yes Ma’am,” answered the morose girl, her backside still smarting from her solitary stroke. She could feel the heat from that single welt permeating the tender flesh of her buttocks. She felt thankful though that she was not Porter. She couldn’t imagine having her current pain multiplied by nine.

Miss Watson turned back to Sarah, still bent over, grasping her ankles. There were now three very clear and very red lines across her backside.

“Porter here is having trouble speaking because she is not breathing correctly. Proper breathing is extremely important for all activities.”

Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Now she was going to be told how to breathe as well? The poor girl was becoming lost in a sea of humiliation and pain. Knowing that seventeen girls could see her exposed bottom was almost as bad as the pain that was radiating from her backside, down her legs and up into her belly.

“During correction,” the teacher continued, “proper breathing is essential. The more prolonged the session of correction the more important this becomes. Are you listening Porter?"

“Yes Ma’am,” Sarah replied obediently.

She may have been rocked to her core by the pain of the cane but she was listening to every word her teacher spoke, desperate to not only prevent further punishment but to show her new teacher that she wasn’t the kind of girl who would incur so many infractions, really she wasn’t.

“Slow normal breathing. Breathe out fully after each stroke and breathe in before responding. There is no need to rush. Correction takes as long as it must.”

Sarah listened and put the lesson into practice immediately. She slowed her quick, shallow breathing down until she was breathing slowly and normally, fully charging her lungs with oxygen.

SMACK. She had only just taken a breath when it was pushed out of her by the shock of the next strike. One of the hardest things Sarah was dealing with was the unexpected nature of the caning. She did not know when each stroke was coming, there was no pattern or rhythm that she could decipher and adapt to.

Sarah took a deep breath to compose herself before fulfilling her part of each stroke, apart from standing there exposing her ass to be a target for the punishment. Sarah had begun to see the correction as a process in which each participant had their function. Her teacher was duty bound to provide the correction for wrongdoing and she was there to ensure that the effort was not wasted, her part was to accept the pain from the correction and learn from it, making her a better person. Her mind seemed so clear, she did not even second-guess her reasoning.

“Four, thank you Ma’am,” the young girl said, speaking loudly and clearly so her words carried to all the girls in the class.

“See girls, the difference is quite marked.”

As each stroke was delivered to Sarah’s quivering behind it became harder and harder to stay in position. The pain that had previously been coming in waves was now an almost constant force, threatening to overwhelm the poor teenager. Her legs were straining badly to remain straight and tears had long ago begun to drip from her face onto the platform beneath her.

As the eighth stroke smacked into the tender crease where her buttocks met her thighs, Sarah noticed a long string of mucus hung from her nose. It must have been about 5 inches long now, long enough to be dangling so low that she could see it. Sniffing did nothing to remove it and Sarah realised that due to the way she was bent over it was actually hanging from the tip of her nose.

Sarah felt true shame. She had been reduced to a blubbering mass, her entire body quivering and awash with pain and now, when she stood up, she would have a stream of mucus covering her face like a baby unable to control itself. How these thoughts even intruded past the barrier of pain from her abused ass was beyond the sorry girl’s comprehension.

SWICK. The ninth stroke landed with just as much force as the preceding eight. Miss Watson was not showing any mercy to the now openly sobbing girl.

“Nine, thank you Ma’am,” Sarah spoke as loudly and clearly as she could, though her whole body was shuddering as she cried.

“Sit.”

Sarah stood up, quickly wiping the long string of sticky mucus from her nose. She had no idea what to do as the degrading goo spread and webbed across the fingers of her left hand.

“Wipe that off you filthy girl,” spat Miss Watson, handing the still crying teen a tissue poised on the tip of the stiff piece of the wood. The cane which had caused her such distress, pain such as she had never felt before in her life was now being used to degrade her in yet another way. Sarah continued to sob as she took the offered tissue, humiliated further by the obvious fact that her teacher had no intention of getting anywhere near the mucus covered hands of the distressed schoolgirl. Sarah hurriedly wiped her hands and her nose, soaking the tissue in seconds with the slimy discharge. The red-faced girl stood down from the platform, moving slowly, making sure her wobbly legs would support her before transferring her weight.

“Thank you for my correction Ma’am,” Sarah blubbed, trying to slow down her breathing and somehow get her crying under control. She felt like she should have done better, should have weathered the painful storm better. She curtsied to the waiting teacher and moved to her desk.

“Bin that filthy rag Porter.”

Sarah looked around for a bin, desperate to rid herself of the evidence of her humiliation. She spotted a small black bin near the door of the room. She trotted across the class, deposited the soggy tissue and moved as quickly as she could back to her desk. She could not raise her eyes from the floor as she walked in front of the class. She could not bear to catch the eye of any of her classmates.

As she moved she was consumed by the need to touch her throbbing buttocks. She needed to reassure herself that she was not bleeding, to feel the painful welts that crossed her tender mounds. Her hands began to drift behind her to rub her buttocks, anything to help her deal with the pain that was radiating throughout her whole body. She caught herself in time, frightened of incurring more punishment.

As Sarah sat down on her stool a fresh wave of pain lanced up her body. The nine raised welts that criss-crossed her buttocks were sending great throbs of agony pulsing up her body and into her chest. She gingerly rested all her weight on the small hard seat and felt as if she was being hit once again. A sharp stab of pain lanced into her abused buttocks, making her gasp as each raised welt was pressed into the hard, unyielding seat. She sat at attention, her feet on either side of her box, once again causing her legs to spread.

Even amidst the pain she was feeling from her caning the humiliation of such a position made her cringe inside. Her shoulders heaved every now and then with a residual sob but she almost had her emotions under control. Sarah breathed deeply and slowly trying to calm herself down and try and deal with the pain. Her nose was still running and she could feel the mucus slowly oozing onto her upper lip.

She was horrified by this, but too scared to dare to move her arm. She sat as still as she could, watching the other girls in the class receive their caning. Every single girl in the class had received at least one stroke, with a number of girls receiving two. Sarah reflected on the fact that she had nine and could not understand exactly how it had happened. She could not feel the individual marks on her bottom, the whole area was simply a mass of throbbing agony. Surely she wasn’t that bad? She was a good girl. She tried to be a good girl. What had gone so wrong?

As the last girl in the class left the platform, curtsying to Miss Watson on the way, Sarah was still fighting the humiliation of the twin trails of mucus that had dripped down her nose and over her lips. She had not dared to move, her levels of anxiety deepening as she felt the slimy trails ooze over her upper lip. She tried to think of something else, even focusing all her attention on each cane stroke, critiquing the position of each girl, admiring those that took their stroke stoically and sympathising with those that cried.

No matter what she tried, her thoughts kept returning to her face, what she must look like, how filthy and infantile she must appear with the clear ooze from her nose now covering her lips. The more she tried not to think of it the more it grew in her mind. The temptation to open her mouth and lick the discharge away was becoming almost overwhelming but she could not give in to it. What would everyone say? Even she knew it was disgusting but the sensation as the thick slime sat on her lips was maddening. Sarah kept her mouth tightly pursed, adamant that nothing would enter. Her cheeks were flushed red at the degrading position she had been forced to hold but she vowed that she would not add to it. She just had to sit still, no matter how hard that simple task had become.

“Seventeen minutes into the first lesson. That time you will make up at the end of class today. As this is our first form class I don’t think we have any further business.”

Chapter 7. In which Sarah learns her first lesson

So caught up was she in her own dilemma, Sarah had not even noticed the muted electronic bell that chimed at the end of the form class. She was a mess, both physically and mentally. Even though her ass, pressed against the hard plastic seat, hurt beyond anything she had known, her focus was almost entirely on her face. She did not think she could stand it for much longer.

“I hope this has provided a valuable learning tool for you girls,” continued Miss Watson as she moved to stand directly in front of the class. Sarah followed her with pleading eyes, hoping her predicament would be noticed and she would be allowed to wipe her nose and mouth.

“The first lesson of the day is usually deportment and etiquette, however as today is our first class together we shall be discussing your curriculum, Trinity house and its place at this school and a little history of the school itself.”

The girls were excited at this news. There had been a lot of speculation and no one could really put all of the evidence into a cohesive argument.

“Harkwood school was founded in 1806 by Charles Harkwood. He was a self-made man, making his fortune in shipping. He was a man of his convictions and he felt the slipping morals of the age could be traced back to a small handful of causes. The most prominent of which was the unnatural growth in the rights of women. Charles believed, and rightly so, in the natural inferiority of women.

“Throughout history the female of the species had always been relegated to the domestic chores, taking the lead from the male and finding a natural place as the subservient worker, the mother and the keeper of the home. This natural order extends back to the era of the hunter-gatherer societies of early man and remains with us on a primal, instinctual level.  In the early 19th century as the world began to be industrialised as it never had before, this natural balance began to be upset. Charles Harkwood was disturbed at the way society was developing and set out, in his small way, to redress the balance.

“The state of society today is a clear indication of Charles Harkwood’s forethought and concern as the dangerous and unnatural path that was in its infancy when our school was founded has become rampant in the world today, providing us with the highest rates of crime and the almost total breakdown of societal norms.”

Sarah could not believe what she was hearing. There was some truth in what the teacher was saying but the anxious teen couldn’t quite see the point of what was being said. She knew she wasn’t the only one, as she could sense the uneasiness of the other girls.

“It took Charles Harkwood eleven years to see his dream become a reality. After purchasing the ancestral lands of a recently disgraced lord he devoted the rest of his life to establishing a school for girls, to teach them correct values and impart all the knowledge they would need to successfully resume their correct place in society. He felt that only when this occurred on a wide enough scale would society have any chance of producing the utopia that many writers of the day pined for.

“Over the last 200 years Harkwood school has endeavoured to right this balance. Over the years society has forced such endeavours to be diluted somewhat but here at Harkwood, Trinity house has remained true to the original tenets of the dream of Charles Harkwood – his dream for a better society.

“With a handful of sister schools, we at Harkwood have maintained an exceptional standard of education. Here you will be taught proper deportment and etiquette, how to cook and clean and how to sew. You will be instructed in the art of dance and the grace of movement. You will be taught the meaning and importance of obedience and subservience. You will learn to pleasure both a man and a woman. You will be educated in all forms of domestic and sexual servitude. In short your true natures will be allowed to flourish, each one of you will blossom into the true form that all women desire and strive for, though sadly most do so unknowingly in today’s society.”

Miss Watson stood before the class, her cane still resting languidly in her right hand. She surveyed the stunned faces of the young girls who would be her charges for the next eighteen months. She knew from her nine year experience at Harkwood that it would take a little while for the information to sink in. Even then, it sometimes didn’t quite dawn on these girls and she had, over the years, taken to emphasising her point.

“In short girls, you are here to be groomed into well-rounded true women. The correct terminology for your status is slut. Some would say whore or slave. But even though you will come to embrace the fact that you are sluts as all women are, I do not like to use the term ‘slave’. It implies a lack of will in one’s acceptance of one’s true nature. And by the time you graduate you will be properly educated to accept and embody the pleasure that your servitude will bring.”

During this speech every girl in the room turned to look at Casta. Even those in the rows in front forgot what they were doing and sought out the French girl. Casta sat in her chair, her mouth open in shock. She had never believed her joking assessment could somehow be correct.

“Eyes front,” bellowed Miss Watson. “Servitude is never easy, it is what makes it so rewarding. Your patrons have paid a very great deal of money to ensure your well-rounded education at Harkwood. Now let us not waste any more time and let’s begin creating those wonderful creatures that your patrons wish for you to be, and indeed that Charles Harkwood wished for you to be. Let us begin to create a better society.”

“Retrieve your boxes and place them on the desk in front of you,” commanded Miss Watson. This was the critical moment in every year. She watched each girl. It had become somewhat of an art for her to recognise those girls that would cause trouble at the outset and those for whom the inability to accept their new lives would simmer beneath the surface, and this command after the revelation of their status was the key.

Ah Ozawa, Miss Watson thought to herself, perfect as always. The Japanese girls were never any trouble. Their predisposition to submissiveness was ingrained deeply. They were the culture most in touch with their genetic heritage. Mitchell, the cow-breasted dullard, had reacted perfectly, the dull accepting expression as she placed her box on her table indicated that there would be no trouble from that quarter.

Even Porter, the girl who had managed to accrue so many infractions in such a small time had seemed to accept, though with clear reservations. Miss Watson could see the inner turmoil rage as logic and the unnatural will for freedom that society had so falsely drummed into these girls battled with the more primal truth that each girl contained.

“Ness, stand,” drilled Miss Watson. The Amazonian teacher had noticed the slight hardening of features that she had come to recognise over the years, as not only the inability to accept their new status but the cunning scheming that would safely hide the true feelings. She knew that this would manifest itself in trouble later on, maybe not for a few months but so much time would be lost where the true message of the lessons would be wasted. Miss Watson knew what to do.

“Front.”

The beautiful blonde teen was not sure what that meant, though she took a guess and moved to the front of the class. Just do what this stupid bitch says for now, she thought to herself. First chance I get and BAM I will be lost into the sunset, she comforted herself. It would only take until lunchtime when she could get lost in the mass of girls and she would be out the front doors. She was already planning it, she would have to hide in the town until dark and then make her way to London. She had no money and she could not go home to her so called ‘uncle’ but she would find some friends in London and tell the world about this freakshow. That’s how she could make some money, selling the story to the tabloids of this silly little country.

All this flashed through her head in the seconds it took to reach the front of the class. Miss Watson watched her strut towards her. Yes definitely scheming, she thought. The little Scandinavian thought she was so smart, such a good actress but her body language gave her away as easily as if she wore a flashing neon sign above her head.

The teacher stepped forward, towering over the young girl. She was a beauty that was for sure. Typical Scandinavian: long blonde hair, perfectly blue eyes and smooth, richly tanned skin. But she also had that Scandinavian haughtiness, far too much barbarian in her. The trouble makers were, more often than not, the girls from Scandinavia or Germany. Funny, the teacher thought to herself, how patterns form along cultural lines.

“When the command ‘Front’ is given in this classroom it is an indication for you to move up to the platform, turn and face the class and stand at attention. Do so,” commanded the imperious teacher. “Now open your boxes. Ness will come around with the bin for you to place your wrapping in,” directed Miss Watson, flicking the cane at Ness, indicating for her to move.

Sarah and the other girls broke the plastic wrapped seal on their boxes and waited for the bin to be brought around by Ness. Sarah was still reeling from what she had been told. It couldn’t be true. It must be some kind of sick joke being played on them. But every time she thought that, she kept coming back to the little things – the rings set in the walls in the dorm. The obvious clues, such as the degrading treatment and revealing uniforms just weren’t registering.

As the pretty blonde teen approached her desk with the bin, Sarah fought the temptation to wipe her nose with the scrunched up plastic wrap. The ooze from her nose was beginning to dry and crystallised all the way from her nose to her upper lip. As Ness approached she saw the sudden look of disgust on her face as she noticed the state of Sarah’s face and the battle was lost. She quickly reached up and wiped her nose with the wrap before placing it in the bin.

It was an immense release to have the mess cleared. She had only had the chance for the one wipe but it had removed the majority of the mass of hardening slime. She could feel the broken crust of what was left, irritating her nostrils and upper lip. She knew this must look dreadful but it was a relief just to have the salty, slimy mess off her lips.

“Open your boxes and retrieve the manual that you see.”

In unison seventeen cardboard lids rose into the air and seventeen small blue books were removed from each box. The girls were unsure what to do with them, the general consensus being to simply hold onto them for the moment.

Sarah took this opportunity to move her feet closer together, closing her legs and preventing the humiliating view of her sex. The revelations that she would be treated like a sexual object and turned into a sexual deviant were having trouble penetrating deep into her mind, where her sense of self, of being a good girl lay hidden.

“Replace your lids. Ness remove each box from each desk and place it on the corresponding benchtop position,” Miss Watson directed, indicating the row of cupboards that extended from the doorway all the way to the back of the room.

As Ness carried out this repetitive task, carrying one box at a time from desk to cupboard, the seated girls read the cover of the book. It was a thin book, looked to be some 200 pages long and was covered in what felt like blue leather. Embossed on the front cover in white writing was ‘Trinity House Student Manual’ underneath which was the Harkwood coat of arms.

“Girls, open your manuals to page 13, place them on the desk in front of you, they will stay open. We are going to begin today with some general positions. As you know, correct positioning is important for maintaining posture and providing not only a pleasing aesthetic but also for demonstrating that you understand your submissive role.You already know ‘attention’. But for the remainder of this class we shall learn some new positions. Ness here,” Miss Watson indicated the teen still clearing desks of boxes, “is going to be our model.”

Sarah looked at page 13 of her student manual. The heading at the top of the page was ‘Seated Attention”. The majority of the page was covered by a stylised drawing of a faceless young girl in Harkwood uniform seated on a stool. The girl was large-breasted, her nipples clearly defined under the familiar blouse. There was a front view, showing the feet wide apart and a clear V of panties visible under the tented skirt, and a side view showing the correct position of the arms behind the back. Small numbers were dotted around both images, with the legend underneath explaining them: elbow, head, knee etc.

As Sarah began to read the description under the image, she shuffled her legs wide apart, as wide as they had been when straddling the box. She knew what she looked like, there was a visual representation on the page in front of her. She could imagine what it would look like at the front of the class: eighteen sets of legs spread wide to show eighteen teenage mounds cupped by tightly fitting white panties. Now the reasoning behind the transparent desks became devilishly clear to her. She blushed as she read the impersonal instructions directing the reader on how to properly sit at attention.

"The student sits at attention by placing the spine in an upright position. The legs of the student are to be separated to a 30 degree angle. The calves of the student are to remain perpendicular to the surface beneath. The students arms are to be drawn behind the torso, the elbows drawn back to create a straight line across the student's back. The hands of the student are to be brought to rest in the small of the back with the right palm cupped within the left. The head of the student is to be raised and the focus of the eyes is to be forward.

"When done correctly the 'seated attention' position ensures the posture of the student is maintained while simultaneously highlighting the assets of the student: the tits, thrust forward due to the trinity of shoulders, elbows and arms, and the pussy due to the spread of the legs."

Sarah read the passage numbly. They were talking so matter-of-factly about her, about the way she was supposed to sit. It was like reading a manual on how to set up a DVD-player; scientific and dispassionate. What disturbed her most of all was how simply it was written, so simply Sarah thought, that even Mitchell would be sure to grasp the concepts within. She realised as she looked again at the faceless drawing that she was already sitting with her legs spread as shown in the diagram. She didn't recall widening them. She realised with a little horror that she had done so subconsciously as she read. This was simply due to her drive to be a good student she told herself, not from any other desire.

What further disturbed Sarah was the use of the term 'pussy', there was even a numbered arrow pointing to it on the diagram. She had never, ever, not once referred to her sex as that.

"Everyone but Porter, Winkle and Ozawa stand," commanded Miss Watson.

Sarah looked up from her manual worriedly.

"Shah, what page were you asked to read?"

"Page 13 Ma'am."

"And what was that page about Shah?"

"It was about the position of seated attention Ma'am."

"Now Shah, do you think you have a superior in this room?" asked Miss Watson menacingly.

"Yes Ma'am," the worried teen replied.

"And who would that be?"

"You Ma'am."

"So explain to me why, when you had just read about the correct posture you did not adopt this position."

The exotic middle-eastern looking girl was confused. She had no idea how to answer that question without getting herself in trouble. Sarah felt sorry for the girl singled out to receive the ire of the teacher. Only three girls had exempted themselves by doing the right thing, and she was glad that she was one of them. Her ass was still extremely painful and she was praying she would not get any more infractions any time soon. She had no idea what her bottom looked like but she was sure it would not be pretty.

"I don't know Ma'am."

"Yes you do Shah, you are just a little too stupid to realise it. Porter tell them why they are standing now."

"Because they showed disrespect to a superior by not adopting the correct position Ma'am."

"Correct Porter," Miss Watson said as she sat down in her high-backed leather chair. "One infraction for disrespect. Ignorance is never an excuse. If it was, some of you girls would be able to get away with murder." Miss Watson began typing on the laptop, registering the infractions by seat location.

"Sit."

Sarah looked at Ness, standing at attention on the platform in front of the room. She was glad that another girl had been spared the infraction. She hated having to answer, knowing what she said had contributed to their punishment.

"Shah stand up and sit on the stool in the corner. Porter turn to page 19 and read what is written there."

"The dunce stool," Sarah began. "The dunce stool is reserved for students who have shown exceptional lack of intelligence. The student is to sit in the dunce chair, facing the class. The student is to adopt a 'seated attention' position. The student is to spread the legs to a 50 degree angle. The heel of each foot is to be resting on the top crossbar behind each front leg of the stool. The student is to wear the dunce hat."

Sarah stopped reading and watched Shah adopt the position she had described. She stepped up backwards onto the tall stool and hooked the heels of her shoes into the crossbar that sat high up the legs of the stool. The bar fitted neatly into the valley between the tall heel of the shoe and the pointed toe section. She looked for all the world as if she was squatting on the high stool. The young girl slowly spread her legs wider until she had decided she had reached 50 degrees. Sarah knew that this position would not be easy to maintain as the pushing of her legs locked into the bar would naturally force the weight to the back of the stool but the girl had to sit up straight with her hands behind her back so balance would be an issue.

Sarah could see that Shah had been one of those girls with an extremely full thatch of pubic hair. The widespread legs of the degraded teen clearly exposed her sex to the class. The small white panties bulged over the tight mound and thick black hair pushed out around the sides. It was like someone had dropped a tissue on an afro, Sarah thought to herself, amazed that she could make a joke at the expense of the suffering schoolgirl. Sarah also noticed that due to the knees being elevated there was no chance that her skirt could ever cover her exposure as it was trapped against her body by her raised thighs.

Miss Watson picked up a large pointed hat from behind her chair. It was white with a large blue D painted on the front. It was basically just a two-foot-tall stiff, cardboard cone. She placed the hat firmly on the head of the humiliated girl. Shah perched precariously on the tall stool as Miss Watson leaned into the terrified teen’s face and whispered, "If you ever answer a question with 'I don't know' again you will receive an infraction." The humiliated young girl went pale,  the cold menace in the teacher’s voice terrifying the already witless teenager.

"Okay girls," Miss Watson said cheerily as she turned back to the class, "turn to page 14, kneeling."

Sixteen sets of eyes flicked from the spread legs of the humiliated dunce to their student manual on the desk in front of them. Almost together the girls reached up with a right or left hand and turned to page 14, before quickly resuming their position.

"Ness, kneel."

The confused teen knelt down on the platform, but she did not have a manual, how was she to know if she had done it right. She soothed her panic by telling herself it didn't matter if she got any infractions, she would not be here to collect them. All that mattered was to make it to lunchtime and her chance to escape. No fucking way she was being anyone's sex slave.

"Wrong. Put your shins flat on the ground, spread your knees. Wider. Stand up. Remove your blouse and skirt so the girls can properly see what you are doing."

The haughty blond teen stood up, her hands hesitating on the lowest button of her blouse.

"Resume the correction position," Miss Watson commanded angrily.

Ness looked at the teacher toying with the cane. Her eyes downcast, the pretty teen turned around and clasped her ankles as she had done for her earlier infraction.

"A position you can get correct. Maybe this position is your favourite."

Before anyone in the room was ready the cane flew towards the exposed buttocks. A new red welt was soon added to the existing stripe.

"Now you can also remove your bra and panties."

This time Ness did not hesitate. Her tie came off and she placed it on the platform beside her.

"No, you will be using that platform, place your clothes on your desk."

Ness, carefully stepped down from the platform, walked to her desk and placed her tie on it. Her fingers flew up her blouse unfastening three buttons before she was stopped.

"Ness you are to undress on the platform. Move," bellowed Miss Watson.

The harassed teen scurried to the front of the room, her blonde ponytail bobbing with each hurried step. She carefully alighted upon the platform and turned to face the class. She continued to unbutton her blouse.

"No Ness, fix your mistake and then continue undressing."

The exasperated girl buttoned up the three she had previously undone and then proceeded to undress, her now trembling fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons. When she had removed her blouse she stepped down and placed it on her desk. Repeating the procedure for her skirt and her bra. She hesitated just a little before removing her panties but she dutifully slid them down her legs and placed them on the top of the pile of clothes on her desk, looking thoroughly harassed.

Ness sat one row behind Sarah so she could only watch her as she undressed and moved up and down the platform. The pretty Scandinavian teen had unusual breasts, to Sarah at least. Her nipples were quite large and puffy, almost as if they had been sucked into the end of a vacuum cleaner.

"Kneel," Miss Watson commanded, the instant Ness had resumed attention on the platform. Ness kneeled obediently, placing her shins flat on the floor as she had been told on her first attempt.  “Wider," the teacher commanded, smacking the exposed right thigh. The whole class was surprised but none more so than the kneeling teen. They had all assumed that the cane was only for corrections. Now they knew it could be used at the teacher’s whim, for instruction as well as correction.

Ness did not need to be told to keep her hands behind her back.

"Your ass should be nestled inside your feet," Miss Watson corrected as she walked around behind the platform.

Ness lifted her buttocks slightly off the ground, thrust her pelvis forward and resettled so her buttocks were nestled on the inside of her feet. Sarah was directly in front of the demonstration and she saw the lips of Ness’ sex move apart slightly as she thrust her hips forward. It was lewd and wrong and Sarah felt terribly sorry for the girl.

"Now compare your manuals with Ness. Raise your hand if you can see any differences."

Each girl pored over her manual, the diagrams and the explanation for the kneeling position, looking back at Ness constantly to compare. Sarah raised her hand with trepidation.

"Porter."

"Her eyes are not downcast Ma'am."

"Good girl Porter. Indeed she has kept her eyes focused forward."

Sarah felt a flush of pride at her teachers praise. She noted Ness lower her eyes.

"This is a demure position and the eyes are to be cast downwards, but open. Note the pussy, how the elevation of her ass allows a nice view even though it is low to the ground."

Ness's face went bright red. She was being treated like an object, as if she wasn't even a person. And now the whole class was staring at her pussy, being asked to admire how exposed it was.

"Page 15, display. Rise up on your knees, push your hips forward, lock your hands behind your neck, thrust your tits out. Hips further forward. Elbows back, and keep them there. Now girls, compare your manuals to the model."

This time Ness kept her eyes downcast and held the uncomfortable position. She was straining her back to hold her hips prominently displayed.

"Hips forward," Miss Watson corrected, emphasizing her words with a strike of the cane to the straining teenager’s ass.

The seated girls continued to compare their manual with the live example before them. This time however there was no difference to be found.

"Kneel."

Ness moved smoothly back into the kneeling position.

"Display."

Once again Ness rose up on her knees and thrust out her hips and breasts to the class.

"Do you all see the natural affinity of these two positions?"

"Yes Ma'am," the class intoned as one. Every girl could see the easy transition from kneeling to displaying and back again.

Miss Watson pushed the tip of the cane into the kneeling teen’s right breast, squashing the puffy nipple and causing the rebellious young schoolgirl to scowl at her.

"This position is named display for a reason. The tits are thrust forward prominently and the cunt is open. The spread of the legs opens the cunt, even on such a tight pussy as displayed here. This is more clearly seen when a pussy is clean, which unfortunately is not the case here, but don't worry girls, this will be rectified in a following period."

Sarah blushed as the humiliated girls most intimate body parts were discussed so openly. She watched the kneeling girl display her body and those facets which made her more a woman than a girl and saw a tear drip onto the exposed left breast.

"Kneel."

"Display."

"Kneel."

"Display."

"Kneel."

"Display."

Ness bounced up and down, sinuously thrusting her body on display and coming back to rest her buttocks on the shiny black heels. A thin sheen of sweat began to form on the exposed flesh of the teen as she struggled to keep time. Her breathing became fast and laboured.

"Attention."

"Display."

"Correction."

Miss Watson put the teen through a workout of positions. Ness kept pace with the demands for position changes, often being commanded to change as she had just settled into the correct position. The poor girl’s mind was reeling. She forgot everything but the positions she was being commanded to perform. Her nudity was forgotten, her rebellion was forgotten. Her focus had been reduced to the moment.

Ness began to worry as the rapid-fire position changes had stopped and left her in the correction position. She dreaded what was to come and hoped and prayed she would not be caned again. She had tried to keep up, tried to make the correct contortions of her body.

"Girls do you see in the correction position that it also provides a good view of the cunt and asshole. Widen your legs, a little wider, just past your shoulders. Simply by moving the legs a little wider, we now have an excellent view of the cunt and anus. This is an unofficial position, and so not one on the curriculum, but one we call 'cunt display'. It is useful to remember."

Ness began to sob quietly. Tears dripped onto the platform below her, as the strain in her legs began to become painful and the humiliation of being used as a mindless dummy, a teaching tool, an object, began to take their toll.

"Page 22, present."

The girls looked down from the exposed backside of their classmate and flicked to page 22 in their manuals. Sarah's eyes glanced at Shah as she lowered her head. The pretty girl seemed to be in some distress. Her thighs were tensing, though Sarah wasn't sure if this was involuntary or not. What was more worrying was that the poor girl had failed to maintain the proper posture and the dunce hat had slipped slightly askew, creating quite a comical picture. Sarah caught only a glimpse and she couldn't spare more than a momentary thought for the girl, trying to silently will some strength to her so she would not let the hat fall.

Sarah looked at page 22 and blushed. The diagram on this page was of a girl on the floor, her ass raised in the air presenting her sex for all to see. Sarah dutifully read the description, referring back to the diagram to confirm certain details. She realised that having a live model do this in front of her really was a huge help in learning the positions, even though she felt a little disgusted at herself for admitting the humiliation of another girl was a help to her.

"Kneel, facing away from the class. Now lean forward in one smooth movement placing your palms flat on the ground and leaning your face on your hands. Arch your back, more, come on, move the belly to the floor but keep that ass up in the air. Think about what you are doing silly girl, this position is to display your ass and cunt. You have to feel the position and what it is designed to achieve before you can inhabit it."

Miss Watson proceeded to tap the twin mounds of her exposed ass as she directed the prone girl into the proper position. The force of the cane was only a tenth of the strokes used for correction but the constant drumming pattern was creating a maddening rhythm of pain for the distressed teen.

"Chest down lower, mash those tits into the floor. Think of each part of the body, how it looks in the position you adopt."

Miss Watson interrupted her staccato caning of Ness' buttocks and prodded the tender lips of her pussy.

"Once this mess is removed," Miss Watson continued, running the tip of the cane forcefully over the smattering of golden pubic hair that grew sparsely on the teen’s pussy lips, "you will be able to see both sets of lips, clit and any enhancements that have been desired, as well as the current state of arousal."

"It is also perfect for determining the level of cleanliness the slut has maintained in two of her important holes," the teacher intoned, lightly smacking the pussy lips and anus of the girl as she spoke.

"Your next lesson is with Miss Rice. She will be instructing you in anatomy, hygiene and a great many other lessons. Even for sluts, knowledge is essential and must be cherished. We have a few minutes left, so while Ness cleans my boots I will take any questions on today’s lesson," said Miss Watson as she sat in her leather chair. "Ness, come."

The thoroughly cowed teen scrambled over before the seated teacher, the ever-present cane resting comfortably across her lap.

"Kneel. Now lick my boots clean, I want them both gleaming by the end of the class."

Ness leaned forward, her mouth closing in on the knee high black boots favoured by her teacher. She looked at the smooth black surface, smelling the earthy aroma of the leather. She hesitated, not able to voluntarily debase herself further. She had displayed the most intimate parts of her young body, places that no one had ever seen in the detail they had during this class - no one, not even her boyfriend.

The cane came crashing down on the side of her thigh, the explosion of pain shocking her out of her hesitation, any thoughts of modesty and rebellion burst away by those of self-preservation. Her young pink tongue flicked out with relish, licking up her teachers boot, from the toe to heel.

"Now class, any questions?" asked Miss Watson, satisfied that the young girl at her feet, obediently cleaning her boots with her tongue, was sufficiently broken. Ness was well on her way to embracing her subservience and becoming the slut she was destined to be. Sometimes breaking a girl was so very easy. She was a little disappointed to be honest, she quite enjoyed the rebellious little buggers.

All the girls in the class remained silent, unsure of what to do. Should they try and think of a question to ask? If they did, they would have to make sure it wasn't frivolous or incorrect. The example of Shah, sitting in the dunce chair in the front corner was reminder enough that if you opened your mouth, what came out had to count. But already the girls were second-guessing themselves. What if no one asked a question? Would that be worse? Every girl breathed a sigh of relief when Sarah's hand was slowly raised.

"Porter?"

"Ma'am, when moving from a floor position to a standing position is there a proper way to do it or is just moving as fast as possible the most important thing?" Sarah queried, blushing as she did so.

The question had come to her as she watched Ness change positions in front of her. She was genuinely curious but she worried about what the other girls would think of her. Would they think she was into this stuff? Would they think she was a teacher's pet? Would they hate her for trying to do well, like they did at her old school?

"Perceptive question Porter, you definitely seem to have the makings of a true slut's mind. The slut should always endeavour to ensure every move she makes be one of grace and beauty. After lunch we will begin a little theory but as a slut, you exist to please others and what is more pleasing than beauty and obedience?' Miss Watson paused, the only sound heard in the room was the moist slurping sounds as Ness continued to kiss and clean the teacher’s leather boots.

"Nothing is more pleasing than beauty and obedience Ma'am," Sarah answered when the silence made her feel nervous, made her feel like that question was not one of the rhetorical ones.

"Did you have to think about that Porter?"

"No Ma'am," the young girl replied with trepidation, now regretting a little that she had opened her mouth to begin with.

"I don't like to be kept waiting Porter. I can be a very patient woman but not with sluts. Now to answer the question, yes there is a more pleasing way to move from the floor positions to the standing positions. You move with grace, being sure that there is maximum exposure of the parts of your body that are most important: the ass, the pussy, the tits. You must also move with speed, but remember that speed should never make your movements ugly. It is better to take the punishment for being slow and move pleasingly than to be swift and ugly."

Sarah was glad that her question was a good one, though she didn’t quite know what to think about how Miss Watson had described  her mind. Sarah, like every other girl in the class was still too overwhelmed by the events of the morning to truly understand and accept her predicament. Her mind had decided to treat the problem in the most familiar of ways: this was a school and she would do her best to be a good student. The repercussions for the rest of her life were a little too big and a little too recent to break through the delusion.

"Ness, sit," Miss Watson commanded.

The blonde girl scrambled to her feet and moved back to her seat. Sarah had watched the naked schoolgirl as she had licked almost every available surface of the teacher’s boot. When the front had been cleaned she had moved herself around to each side, her tongue searching for new surfaces, afraid that she would be caned again if she slowed down or her enthusiasm was lacking.

"Dress before you sit."

The Scandinavian girl dressed quickly and thankfully. She had been humiliated and degraded, used like an object and there was no way she could look her classmates in the eye. She sat at attention, two wet trails on her face highlighting her shame.

Miss Watson stood up and walked over to Shah, still seated on the stool, still wearing the conical dunce hat, though barely. Her legs were trembling from the strain, her calves taught and her thighs quivering visibly. It had taken a great effort to keep the dunce hat from falling. Her stomach muscles had been tensed almost constantly, trying to remain upright and balanced on the small stool. Her humiliation was deep-seated but even she was glad that she had been spared the treatment Ness to which Ness had been subjected.

"Look at our dunce here, how intelligent she looks. She is here because she was stupid. When you are asked a question and you do not know the answer, and this will happen many times, there is a correct response. The correct response is 'I am a slut'. This answer provides all the information that is necessary to explain the situation. Now all of you try it to make sure you have it right."

"I am a slut," the class repeated in a staggered chorus.

"Again."

"I am a slut."

"Shah, what is the average length of a cock?"

"I am a slut, Ma'am," Shah replied softly.

"Speak up, Shah."

"I am a slut Ma'am."

"I know Shah and you are here to be trained to be the best slut you can be. But what is the average cock length?

"I am a slut Ma'am," the frightened girl replied, frantically thinking of how to get out of this situation. This could go on forever.

"Never forget that Shah, and never forget this lesson."

"No, Ma'am."

"Sit," the teacher commanded as she removed the dunce hat from her head.

The exotic teen had to use her arms to help unhook her heels from the crossbar. Her legs were stiff from the strained position and the four inch heels had become caught along the wooden rod. She gingerly stepped down, groaning as her legs took the weight of her body. She hobbled back to her seat and sat gratefully, sobbing with the pain and indignity. Once all girls were seated Miss Watson addressed the class.

"In the remaining time in our first lesson we have an important task to perform. I want each girl, in order, to go to her box, lift the first partition, take out the contents and return to her seat. Now."

Olsen, was the first to stand and move rapidly to the cupboard along the wall. She opened her box, removed something and returned to her seat. Sarah could not see what was going on and her glimpse of Olsen as she walked in front of her revealed nothing.

"Once seated hold the contents in both hands in front of you,  palms up."

Sarah watched and waited until it was her turn. When she heard Murphy sit down next to her she stood up, attempting to be as graceful as she could, and moved to her box. Once opened she saw the small cardboard partition that was used to create levels within the box. She lifted this out and looked at what was underneath.

There, on another cardboard partition was a circlet of silver metal. It was a band about one inch in height, with a ring protruding from the front. Sarah realised instantly that it was a collar and it didn't take a genius to understand that she would soon be wearing it. She was surprised at how light it was. It felt far lighter than any metal had a right to be. She replaced the partition and lid of her box and sat down.

In her peripheral vision she saw the girl next to her stand as she sat down, but her focus was on the collar in her hands, her collar. It had a dull sheen, shiny but not polished. The ring sat to the front of the collar and she could see that it was attached by an ingenious flange that looked to be a part of the metal band itself. She could not see any way for the collar to open, it seemed as if it was one solid piece of metal.

"Olsen, front and kneel."

Sarah had been so preoccupied in the study of her collar that she had lost track of time. She looked up to see Olsen kneeling in front of the class, her own metal circlet, identical to the one Sarah held, lying on her outstretched palms, like an offering. Miss Watson stood behind the kneeling teen, surveying the class.

"Girls, what you are holding is your collar. Once fitted this will remain with you until you graduate, at which time your patrons will replace it with one of their own. Your collar is not only a tool for control and restraint, it is a physical reminder of your servitude, a reminder that you are property now. Your collar marks your ownership. Later this may be added to. When you feel the caress of the collar around your neck it will remind you that you live to serve."

"Offer your collar to me Olsen."

The kneeling girl lifted her hands above her head, offering her collar like a crown at a coronation. Miss Watson reached over the girl’s head and lifted the collar from her outstretched palms. Olsen immediately placed her hands behind her back doing her best to approximate the new position she had learnt, and that Ness had been forced to demonstrate. The class watched, captivated, as Miss Watson touched a small metal cube to the back of the collar. There was an audible click and the class could see that the thick metal band had come apart. There was now a seam, a gap of only a couple of millimetres.

"Your collars are fastened by locking magnets. This allows for a seamless design which is much more pleasing to the eye than some unsightly padlock. And what is most pleasing to us Porter?" Sarah was not expecting the question, she hesitated for just a moment, hoping that this pause would not cause the teacher to be angry or disappointed with her.

"Beauty and obedience Ma'am."

"Which is more important to you Porter?"

Sarah's mind spun, what was the right answer. Which was more important? Was there a right answer? Sarah had to trust in herself and answer the question exactly as it had been asked. What was more important to her? Beauty was important, everyone wanted things to be beautiful, Sarah wanted to be beautiful. But what was beauty without obedience. Sarah believed that obedience made people much happier, you were actively doing something to show them your respect. She decided.

"Obedience Ma'am."

"Well Porter I hope that we see the strength of your convictions. You are all beautiful in your own ways. Beauty is easy, but for a slut, obedience is key. Even an ugly slut can please through her obedience."

Miss Watson leaned down behind Olsen and placed the collar around her neck. The teacher strained to widen the gap in the back of the collar. Pulling as hard as she could but it was still a very tight fit, the collar scraping the flesh of the kneeling girl’s neck as it was stretched around it. As soon as each prong was past the widest part her neck, the collar popped back into shape, the gap closing once again to bare millimetres. Olsen winced at the audible click as the teacher closed the collar around her neck.

"Thank me for your present and take your seat."

Olsen stood up, thanked her teacher as she curtsied and took her seat. Sarah could not take her eyes of the collared teen. The wide metal band looked amazing. All Sarah could think of was how it would feel around her own neck. Sarah worried herself a little with these thoughts, but the collar looked just like jewellery. She knew there was a lot more to it, but there didn’t have to be. Couldn’t it just be admired as a thing of beauty, in and of itself? She wasn’t entirely sure that it could, knowing that despite the collar being, in essence, a band of ordinary metal, it represented so much more, something deeper and more profound.

Sarah watched as first Cox, then her friend Murphy, received their collars. As the mesmerised schoolgirl watched the collar slide around her friend’s neck she began to get nervous. She knew that she was next, that soon she would have her collar placed and locked around her own neck. That once there she would not be able to remove it. Now her initial thoughts seemed silly to her. She did not want to wear a collar. She did not want to always have this solid piece of metal constricting her neck, reminding her that this was not a normal school and she was no longer a normal girl.

"Porter."

Sarah stood in a daze. She meekly walked to the platform and knelt before her teacher, raising her arms and offering her collar when directed. She sat stunned, her eyes looking forward, but not focused. Her vision was glazed as her entire being focused on the feel of the collar as it passed around her neck. She felt the metal ends scrape the soft flesh of her throat as Miss Watson settled the collar on her.

As it closed with a metallic click, as loud as a door slamming to the dazed teen, Sarah closed her eyes. It was done. The collar was not tight but she felt its entire circumference in contact with her neck. She swallowed and realised there was no need to panic for she could breath and swallow unobstructed. But she knew, from this moment forward, she would be always reminded that it was there. Always be reminded that she was not a simple schoolgirl here to learn maths and history but that she was a slut in training. Her life would never be the same and it was a life that she could not even begin to imagine right now.

Sarah stood up and stepped down from the platform. She turned to her teacher and curtsied politely.

"Thank you for my collar Ma'am."

She returned to her seat. Sarah's whole world seemed to have shrunk, she seemed unable to focus on anything but her collar. The way the cool metal was already warming to her own body temperature, the way the collar made contact in different places around her neck if she moved even slightly, lifting a little here, fitting a little more snugly there.

Sarah watched, but didn't really notice, the procession of teens as they marched to the front of the room and were collared. The temptation to lift her hands and feel the band at her throat, feel the hard metal meet the soft flesh of her neck, was almost overwhelming. She tried to shift her focus to what was happening in front of her but it was like the world had been enveloped in a thick fog, dampening sight and sound, isolating her. Nothing existed but the tight metal band around her neck. Sarah's daze was interrupted by the stentorian tones of Miss Watson.

"Girls, you will notice that the collars are fitted quite closely. Mrs Goodwin, our outfitter, does an amazing job with all Harkwood students, but especially with the little sluts of Trinity house. There are slight contours to our collars designed to make them comfortable but also to ensure minimal slippage. Your collars will not spin around your neck and they will always ride as high  as they sit right now.

"Your collars are a representation of your status and are to be kept clean and polished at all times. Any scratches or marks will be punished. Your collar will only be removed for medical or disciplinarian purposes. You can all sit quietly for the last minute or so of this class. Your next class is with Miss Rice, two doors down. When you are dismissed you will move there in an orderly fashion.

"Your position at Harkwood is something that is not to be discussed with anyone but the other sluts in your class, the staff of Harkwood and the prefects. As far as the students from the other houses are concerned Trinity house is a behavioural modification program that the school runs for troubled and wayward girls as part of a government initiative. So the truth of your tuition is correct as far as they need to know. We may all dream of a world in which such a deception is unnecessary but we have not advanced society to the point where it is, as yet, ready for such a paradigm shift.

"Of course all Harkwood girls are taught the importance of obedience but out of necessity their tuition and training will not be as in-depth as yours. You need to display an exceptional example to the rest of the school. As you are lower in status you are held to higher standards."

Sarah sat in silence, staring straight ahead. Her mind was running in circles: from the throbbing pain that was still present in her ass to the weird feeling of the collar around her neck, to the positions she had been shown, thinking of the right ways to form the positions and back to the pain in her abused cheeks. The pain had lessened, it was no longer so sharp, but the throbbing ache had settled deep in her young flesh.

There was only a few moments of silence before the familiar chiming of the bell. Sarah looked to her teacher, who was lounging in her leather chair staring at the class. After sitting up straight on the tiny seated stool, Sarah longed to be able to lounge in a comfortable chair like that.

"Dismissed."

Sarah immediately stood up and moved to the door, she did not want to be late for the next class.

"Stop," snapped Miss Watson. "Back to your seats. I see you bitches need to be told every single thing. When you are dismissed you thank your teacher for the lesson and curtsy as you leave. You do this in order. Dismissed."

"Thank you Ma'am," intoned Olsen as she curtsied in front of the seated teacher, then hurried out of the room, registering her eartag on the scanner as she exited. Sarah waited her turn.

"Thank you for the lesson Ma'am," she said meekly as she curtsied before the lounging teacher.

"Did you enjoy the lesson Porter?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"What was your favourite part of the lesson?"

"My favourite part was having the positions demonstrated Ma'am," the worried teen replied. Why was she being singled out for these extra questions?

"Hmmm, interesting. Sluts do learn by example, but they learn better through practice. Now practice does not make perfect, but it will make you as close as you can come. Remember that Porter, no matter how much you enjoy watching another little whore perform you must be sure to practice yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Will you promise me Porter?"

"Yes Ma'am I promise to practice."

"Good girl,' the teacher said standing up and moving towards the startled teenager.

Sarah was a little worried, unsure why her teacher was advancing on her. Without warning Miss Watson leant down and kissed Sarah on the lips. A quick full-lipped kiss, brief yet sensual. Sarah responded instinctively, leaning ever so slightly into the kiss, lips shifting tenderly.

"Hurry along now," Miss Watson dismissed her with a leisurely wave of her hand.

Sarah was dazed and confused as her teacher sat back down, a languid smile on her face. She turned and hurried out of the room, almost forgetting to scan her tag as she left. She had just been kissed by a woman. Her first kiss was with a woman. A woman who was her teacher! And she had responded, she had not pushed her away in revulsion, she had not even simply stood still. She had participated. She had kissed back. She was not a lesbian. She knew she wasn't, she had a major crush on Scott Tomkins. She thought about boys when she played with herself.

Her mind continued to whirl as she took her place behind her Irish friend, who was standing obediently at attention down the corridor. Her first class at her new school was over. Her life had changed. So much had happened and all of it seemed like a dream after that kiss. She could not settle her mind, she could not focus. She vaguely felt the other girls take their places in line, simply waiting for their next class to begin. Sarah did not even contemplate what the next class would bring.

Chapter 8. In which Sarah has her first Biology class

The bell chimed and the two lines of motionless girls looked expectantly at the closed door in front of them. None of them knew what to expect from this class with Miss Rice.

Their worlds had just been rocked to their foundation. They had just been told they were not at the prestigious Harkwood academy for normal schooling, to prepare them for a world of academic achievement at the premier universities of the world. They had been told that they were here to be made into sluts, whores, sex slaves for their patrons. The rich guardians and relatives who had paid for their tuition, paid for them not to be schooled in calculus, history and physics but to be schooled in fucking, sucking and subservience.

Their lives now consisted of learning to be slaves, to please their owners. Not one of the eighteen girls accepted this fate. They were too bewildered by the revelation and the speed at which it had all happened. Half of them had not even believed it, until at the end of their first lesson at Harkwood a metal collar had been fixed around their necks - a slave collar. They still did not accept what was happening but they knew now that it was real. They were property now.

"Enter," a voice called from within the classroom.

Olsen, the first girl in line, opened the door and proceeded inside, leaning her eartag in front of the ubiquitous scanner and registering her presence in the room. As Sarah followed the girls in front she was very glad that she was not the first. The responsibility to do things first, to make sure that nothing was forgotten would be immense.

Which reminded Sarah that she had not looked at the clock when she left the last class. She looked now as she entered. It was 10:01. Only three hours ago she had been a teenage girl preparing excitedly for her first day of school. Now she was a slave preparing for her second class that would teach her how to be a slut and prepare her for her new life of sexual servitude.It still didn't make much sense to her, how something like this could happen in this day and age and in a school full of other girls who were not involved. But the reality of the situation was resting around her neck, unable to be escaped.

Sarah glanced about the room to orient herself with the new classroom. It was very similar in design to the previous room. The platform in front of the class, clean blackboard on the wall behind it, cabinets down one side of the room. This time however, there were none of the clear desks in evidence. The room contained 18 small stools arranged in a staggered crescent formation in front of the platform. Sarah stood next to the appropriate stool and looked at her new teacher.

Miss Rice could not have been more different from Miss Watson. The woman was only about five foot five and petite in stature, she reminded Sarah very much of herself. Her sensual oval face was framed by a mass of dark wavy curls. The light tan, cafe au lait skin was smooth and unblemished, and with her dark almond eyes, produced an air of exotic sensuality. Her flowing white cotton skirt and blouse, and barefoot nature gave her a decidedly gypsy flare. Miss Watson had been brooding and intimidating but Miss Rice was earthy and sensuous. Instead of the leather chair that Miss Watson favoured, in the front corner of the room was a red velvet chaise lounge. The teacher stood in front of this waiting for all the girls to enter and take their places.

"Sit," their new teacher commanded, the soft sweet voice tinged with a slight accent, none of the girls could place, that lent even this one small word an aura of lascivious delight.

As one the class sat on their hard plastic stools, assuming the correct seated attention position they had all learnt only minutes ago. None of the girls knew what to expect. Their previous lesson had left them all a little dazed: the combination of pain, humiliation and being told they were now belongings had not left much room for thinking.

"Now girls, my name is Miss Rice. I teach biology to Trinity house. This will be a little different from any biology class you have had before. In my class we will be focusing on anatomy, hygiene, physiology and erogenous zones. A solid understanding in these areas is critical for all sluts. To bring pleasure you must understand the human body and those systems that are important to you."

Sarah listened to her biology teacher talk about their new curriculum. When she heard biology a tiny flicker of hope had lit inside her, only to be dashed as this 'new' biology was explained. She could guess what kind of perverted biology class this was likely to become.

"I have been reviewing your physicals and in this first lesson we will deal with the very basics of anatomy, touch on erogenous zones and conduct our first hygiene practical. Porter step over here and undress, place your uniform on my chaise if you will. Shoes and socks to remain."

Sarah rose without thinking. She had been told to do something and she responded, the unexpected speed at being called out had caught her unawares. As she approached the chaise what she had been told to do broke through the haze that had clouded her senses. It seemed that this lesson it was her turn to be the model. Did it have anything to do with her comments at the end of the last lesson? Could that have been communicated so quickly? She unclipped her tie and began to slowly unbutton her blouse, unconsciously trying to prolong the time she could stay clothed.

Sarah had come to see her uniform as a layer of protection. The previous 24 hours had shown her that she could be humiliated and degraded even when clothed but it seemed to her that these flimsy layers of material were like a suit of armour to her and she was loathe to relinquish them.

"Hurry Porter. Unless told otherwise a slut should always undress efficiently and speedily. Now why might a slut not undress speedily... Mitchell?"

The large breasted teen was startled by being called on. She had been absentmindedly watching Sarah undress and was not prepared to answer.

"Um because you would be told to?"

"You? Are you calling me a slut Mitchell?" asked Miss Rice, amusement playing clearly across her face.

"No Ma'am. I just meant that a slut and I.. any slut.. I mean I don't really understand the question Ma'am," replied the flustered teen.

Sarah felt sorry for Mitchell, but she was glad of the distraction as she hurriedly finished undressing, hoping the focus had been taken off her, if only for a moment.

"Oh Mitchell I asked you under what circumstance a slut would not undress with the usual speed that is expected."

"Um because she was asked to Ma'am?"

"Are you asking me a question Mitchell?"

"No Ma'am."

"Then answer the question properly. Porter stand up on the platform," the teacher added, noticing that Sarah had finished removing her uniform.

"Because she was asked to Ma'am," Mitchell finally responded with more conviction.

"Mitchell are you a slut?"

"Yes Ma'am," the less than quick-witted teen responded meekly.

"Then do not answer questions with vagaries. When asked what a slut would do, consider yourself that slut. That is a valuable lesson for all you girls. Now Mitchell try again."

"Um because I had been asked to Ma'am."

"Wrong Mitchell, you would not be asked you would be told, now try again."

"Because I was told to Ma'am," replied the increasingly frustrated teen.

"We had already established that you would be told Mitchell, the question was why would you be told?"

"Um...because...um, someone wanted me to Ma'am."

"Well it seems that it is true what they say, the bigger the breasts the smaller the brain. Porter answer."

"A slut could be told to undress slowly so that someone could watch them and they could enjoy it and they would be more beautiful Ma'am," replied Sarah. She had been willing the answer to Mitchell as she felt sorry for her, it wasn't her fault she was stupid.

"Correct, in part. Even when undressing with speed you should be beautiful, you should be aware of your body, it's position and movements with respect to the room you are in and the occupants of the room. Even when alone you should do this as it is a slut's duty to be beautiful in all things. We must think of the old adage "if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound'. Apply that to yourself Porter."

"When a slut performs and nobody is there to see is she still a slut Ma'am."

"Very good Porter, you have very good instincts to complement that slut mind of yours. And the answer?"

"The answer is yes Ma'am."

"That's right girls, a slut is always a slut. Not only do you never know who may indeed be watching, but a slut is what you are. It should be embraced every waking, and indeed every sleeping, moment of your life.

"Now Porter, let us get on with our lesson. Basic anatomy and its corresponding terminology. Every slut has three holes. It is why this house is called Trinity house. It is an extremely apt way of categorising yourself. Your three holes are important to a slut and to those who own or use you. For some, these three holes may be all that is important."

Sarah was horrified at this speech. Not only was the revelation that the very name of their house highlighted their degradation but the way this sensuous teacher was speaking made her feel like she was talking about objects not people. Sarah realised that these classes, even though they were dealing with crude and demeaning subjects were actually being taught like any other normal subject. Were they going to have tests?

Sarah felt something touch her lips. She cringed and almost pulled away, but caught herself just in time.

"Porter, how embarrassing," said Miss Rice, as she removed the tip of a cane from Sarah's face. "When anything is placed near a slut's mouth, that mouth opens in welcome. If any small pressure is applied the object is to be welcomed inside the slut's mouth."

The teacher raised the cane tip once again to Sarah's mouth, and this time she parted her lips slightly and then hesitantly opened her mouth a little wider. Her face instantly reddened at the shame of being made to perform like an animal in a circus.

"Ah a physiological reaction we will talk about in more detail in another lesson. The blush response is a common response that modest people have when they feel shame or embarrassment. It is quite rare in a well-trained slut, but seen often during training. No matter, I find it cute at any time," said Miss Rice, patting her open palm on Sarah's bare buttocks as she spoke.

The warm touch of flesh on flesh made Sarah shiver. The gentleness of the gesture calmed her but the intimate nature confused her at the same time. A strange tingling deep in her belly gave her pause, she had never felt anything like that before. It was like being nervous but not quite the same.

"Now," continued the teacher, again placing the cane tip at her mouth, "this hole is commonly called the mouth, though alternates include suckhole or sometimes it is crudely referred to as the facehole. Now repeat after me girls. Mouth. Suckhole, Facehole."

The seventeen seated girls repeated each word obediently, many blushing at being treated like children learning to speak.

"Good, these are the acceptable terms for a slut to use. In all your project work you are to use these terms only. Also in conversation it is important to remember your terminology. Speech for a slut is just as important as any other aspect of your behaviour.

"These are the tits," stated Miss Rice as she moved the cane tip from Sarah's cheek to her right breast, prodding it slightly. "They can sometimes be referred to as breasts, or indeed a hundred other more colourful terms, but that is a decision for your betters. You refer to them as tits. Tits," the teacher stated as she prodded Sarah’s breast again, producing the desired result of the class of 17 girls dutifully repeating the word.

"You can close your mouth Porter, we don't want you catching any flies," Miss Rice chuckled.

Tears began to well in Sarah's eyes as she was not only degraded but made the butt of a joke.

"Now on the tits we have the nipples," said Miss Rice, moving the cane and tapping Sarah's nipple. "Sometimes there are just no better words to describe something. Nipple," again the teacher tapped the cane against Sarah's nipple making her grimace in pain. It was more uncomfortable than painful but Sarah was not in the frame of mind to analyse it too closely. The cane moved down Sarah's body and rested beside her bellybutton.

"This is the belly, not tummy, which is childish, or stomach which sounds harsh. Belly."

"Belly," came the reply from the seated teens.

"You see girls, the words a slut uses are important to not only convey a message but to convey a mood. You should not only look pleasing but also sound pleasing. Not only the correct tone of voice but the correct words will help to make this impression. This will all be touched on in more depth in your other classes."

Again the cane moved down her body and rested on the mound above her sex.

"This is the second of the important slut holes. Some say the most important, but that kind of thinking can be troublesome. All three holes are important, differing in importance for some people but to the slut all holes must really maintain equal importance. Present Porter, much more beneficial."

Sarah quickly moved to kneel down, facing away from the class. The tears that had been threatening now began to fall down her cheeks. As she raised her ass into the air and lowered her chest to the floor, she felt glad that at least her tears would be hidden. She laid her arms flat and rested her head upon them, spreading her knees wider at the same time. The quietly sobbing teen arched her back, as she had learnt, exposing her ass and nether regions to the class more effectively.

"Good girl Porter. A perfect position, and one which was only learnt less than an hour ago. A slut is always eager to present her holes and you have shown not only eagerness but an excellent understanding of form."

Sarah's tears flowed more freely as her willingness to do well was misinterpreted as a willingness to show her most private of areas to a class full of girls. She would never do this by choice, but she felt she had no choice. Not following the order had not even occurred to her, nor did it now, but her perceived lack of choice did not make it any easier.

"So many stripes Porter. I have no doubt you earned them but I admit it is disappointing. I count nine, one more and you have a detention.”

"Now the cunt," Miss Rice said as she tapped the cane against Sarah's pussy, causing the exposed girl's thighs to tense and make her butt bounce a little higher. "The cunt or the pussy for a slut. We do not use any of those cruder terms, though others may choose to. Vagina is for doctors, and sex is your gender. Cunt. Pussy."

The class obediently repeated the words as Miss Rice tapped Sarah's pussy with the cane.

"Ass," said the teacher as the cane prodded Sarah’s fleshy buttock. "Now the ass refers to the two fleshy mounds. More specifically these may be called the asscheeks. This is not to be confused with the third of the slut's holes, the asshole. This can be a difficult one as often they can be interchangeable. Such as during your anal training you may be told to put something up your ass. Now obviously you use your brain to understand exactly what is being said. If you are wrong during training you will be corrected. If you are wrong during service then you will have caused disappointment and this is what you must never do. Disappointing your owner or user brings shame upon you and punishment should always be sought. Ass. Asshole.”

Sarah felt the cane prod her delicate pink sphincter and instinctively it tensed, puckering tightly. The sobbing schoolgirl heard her teacher laugh and a fresh wave of shame flowed over the her as she heard the class repeat the shameful word.

"Now class let’s play a little game, after all what is education without a little fun. Now, you call out the body part indicated. You too Porter."

"Ass."

"Asshole."

"Cunt. Pussy."

"Asshole."

"Cunt. Pussy."

"Hmmm, very interesting. Porter you are the only one using pussy instead of cunt. Why is that so?" inquired the intrigued teacher.

"I like pussy better Ma'am," Sarah replied through her sobs.

"Ah you 'like' pussy. Well I must admit Porter that I do too. But what you like is quite irrelevant and that kind of thinking in a slut can produce unwanted results. All sluts must be constantly aware of their surroundings and adapt to the likes and dislikes of those around them. Darwin was never more correct than when his wisdom is applied to sluts - survival of the fittest indeed. Adaptability is just as important to a slut as obedience and enthusiasm.”

"Attention Porter."

Sarah stood up and faced her class. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her breasts bounced with each fresh sob. She tried desperately to get her emotions under control. She hated people seeing her crying. Exposing herself and being degraded was humiliating enough, but to have to face her class as they yelled her body parts as the teacher prodded them was on an entirely new level.

"Cunt. Pussy."

Sarah still felt like pussy was the right thing for her to say. She hoped that Miss Rice's speech before was not a rebuke of her choice.

"Tits."

"Mouth. Suckhole."

Sarah looked at Casta, she was the only girl to have chosen the more vulgar usage. She had a sly smirk on her face as she called out the words and Sarah quickly looked away, her vision blurring as fresh tears rose. She could not believe that one of her own classmates was laughing at her. Laughing at her humiliation. Laughing as she was treated as the object of a game, no different than a monopoly board.

"Tits."

"Tits."

"Tits."

"Ah girls, well played," laughed Miss Rice as she whisked the cane around Sarah's body before coming back to prod her breasts each time.

"Now girls, time to be serious again. Mitchell and Taylor undress and join Porter, Mitchell on her right, Taylor left."

The two named girls hurriedly undressed, placing their clothes in small piles next to Sarah's, on the chaise. They quickly stood up next to the naked, sobbing girl. Even with this company, Sarah felt no better. Maybe getting lost in a crowd would help her but having a naked girl either side of her while standing high on a platform made her feel no less exposed and vulnerable.

"Now every slut is different as we all know. But to just demonstrate the importance of this truth look at the three sluts before you. You three look at each other."

Sarah turned her head to Mitchell, her large breasts riding high on her chest, the slight curve of her belly, her full hips and thighs providing a very womanly body shape. Taylor was the polar opposite: a toned, fit young girl with almost no breasts, slim hips, flat muscular stomach.

"Mitchell has large tits, D almost E. In fact they really should be called udders. Class, Mitchell's tits are now referred to as her udders. Porter’s tits are a more normal size, suiting her figure perfectly. Pert and taut but soft and pillowy at the same time."

Sarah blushed anew at this description of her body. At least she had been spared the shame of having her tits renamed to that of a farmyard animal.

"And lastly Taylor has small, petite tits. In fact her tits are so small that Mrs Goodwin deemed it unnecessary for a bra to be issued as part of her standard uniform. Isn't that right Taylor?"

"Yes Ma'am," responded the humiliated teen.

Sarah felt more sorry for Taylor than Mitchell. Sarah knew how self-conscious girls could be over their breasts, especially if they were small. It made many girls feel much less feminine and Sarah could not imagine how that must feel.

"Now a slut with Taylor's tits by her very nature will be unable to provide certain forms of release for an owner. Titslapping and titfucking are but two forms of pleasure she will be unable to provide. It is important for any slut to be aware of her body and her abilities and her strengths and weaknesses. If a slut is deficient in one aspect she must be sure to make up for that in other ways. Some of a slut’s weaknesses are immediately apparent, such as in Taylor’s case here. Others only make themselves known through training."

Sarah could see the girl on her left crying, the tell-tale shrugging of the shoulders could be seen out of the corner of her eye. Even in her own predicament she still felt for the girl.

"Of course most other problems can be overcome through training. All three of a slut's holes can be well trained. But when they cannot a slut must be sure to direct attention away from these areas to minimise the disappointment that she may cause. What must never be changed is the permanent form of a slut. Breast augmentation is highly frowned upon, if someone prefers bigger tits then a new whore should be found. Of course your owners may feel differently but the Harkwood influence is not inconsiderable. Temporary enhancement is something we will discuss in a few weeks.

"Mitchell and Taylor you can go through the door at the rear of the room and wheel in the chair you will find. It fits across the platform so I want it positioned to face the class."

The two girls stepped carefully down from the platform and hurried through the rows of seated girls and out the back. Sarah watched them wheel the gynaecological chair into the room, the mere sight of it bringing back the humiliating physical she had undergone only a day ago. A day! It seemed like a year to Sarah. It seemed impossible that such a short period of time had elapsed.

"Move it to the edge of the platform, position the front and back sets of legs either side and leave it there. Take your seats."

Sarah watched as the two naked girls went back to their stools, both glancing longingly at their uniforms, still in two small neat piles on the teacher’s lounge. They sat at attention, Sarah now able to see how fetching the seated attention position was. It provided the girl with great posture and yet it showed off her tits and pussy without seeming crude.

"Before we have our first lesson in basic hygiene we will touch on some physiological reactions. We mentioned before that the blush response is quite a common response. But it is an example of a physiological response that can be trained out of a slut’s behaviour. Most sluts do not blush, as what reason do they have to feel shame or embarrassment, unless of course they have failed their owner in some way. This slut," Miss Rice swung her cane and poked Sarah in the ribs, "blushes simply because she is naked. Charming to be sure. Most of the responses we will be dealing with in this class though are true slut responses. Some of these are purely physiological and others are behavioural. The difference? Observe."

At this the teacher rested the cane against her lounge and stepped up on the platform next to Sarah. The frightened girl’s eyes grew wide and frantically searched the faces of her classmates. What she was searching for she had no idea. Some form of solace that no girl of Trinity house could possibly provide?

Sarah felt the teacher’s finger touch her lips. She obediently opened her lips slightly, only to feel the finger penetrate gently into her mouth. She closed her lips around the finger and sucked softly upon it.

"That is evidence of a behavioural response. As a slut should, she welcomed my finger into her mouth. See how she is suckling it. A slut's mouth longs to be filled and a great amount of comfort is found in this. See how the slut has calmed down. A slut yearns constantly to have her holes filled with cock, but any substitute can provide the calming influence almost as well."

Sarah was amazed as she listened to Miss Rice talk about her. The woman was overwhelmingly sensuous: her movements, the warmth of her body, the way she spoke, even her sweet earthy smell had a carnal appeal. Sarah could not believe what she had heard but she was the evidence. She had calmed down as she suckled on her teacher's finger. The pressure of the finger on her tongue and the feel of her lips as they encircled the feminine digit had made her forget her fear of moments ago.

"Now observe a physiological response over which the slut has no control."

Sarah's head tilted forward slightly as the finger was withdrawn from her mouth. She hadn't meant to do it and she was instantly horrified at herself. How could she have done that? She had no time to contemplate her behaviour as Miss Rice moved behind her, caressing her body. The soft, warm hands flowed around Sarah's body, cupping her breasts from behind, thumbs flicking across her nipples. She felt them move down her body, fingers barely touching her hips, the feathery touch moving across her ass and down her thighs.

Sarah lost focus on her surroundings. She had never felt anything like this before. Her mind was trying to bring her back to reality. To bludgeon her with the truths that she was not a slut, she was not a lesbian but these thoughts faded quickly as the sensations from her body overwhelmed her.

She let out a soft groan as the teachers hot, moist mouth closed over her left nipple. Instantly both nipples stiffened fully. Miss Rice smiled as she felt the nipple harden in her mouth. How easy this girl was, how much she reminded her of herself at that age. How much fun it would be training this girl to fully realise what she so obviously was.

"The nipples hardening as a response to sexual desire is a physiological response that everyone has, both male and female alike. In a slut it is much more pronounced, occurring with minimal stimulation, often with no physical contact but merely by the slut's thoughts.

"Now the response we saw on this slut was excellent. The nipples hardened extremely quickly and hardened to their fullest extent almost instantly. Your nipples will harden in cold weather and this is a similar response to goosebumps, due to a hardening of tiny muscle fibres. A slut's nipples will also harden during physical activity, such as during your gym work. This is due to the physical activity being a reminder of sexual exertion and the nipples harden as if stimulated sexually."

Sarah tried to listen to Miss Rice teach. She could still feel the warmth of her teacher’s mouth on her nipple and she longed for it to happen again. She knew it was wrong, knew it deep in her heart, but she wanted it. She was dismayed by the way the teacher had stopped so abruptly once the response she wanted had been achieved. As if such an intimate act meant nothing.

"The natural state for a slut's nipples is to be hard. Sexual activity is always at the forefront of any slut's consciousness. As your training progresses this will be held as one of your cardinal truths. You may feel at times that your body is betraying you, but by not embracing the fundamental state of being it is you who are betraying your body."

Miss Rice reached out and pinched Sarah's nipples gently, twisting the hard pink nubs, causing Sarah to groan. Again the petite schoolgirl was transported into an ecstasy she had not imagined. She had never felt this way when masturbating. This tightness in her belly, the weakness in her legs, the light-headed, almost dizzy feeling.

"Can anyone tell me the other slut response that sexual stimulation will produce?"

Sarah gasped as the teacher ceased the attention of her nipples and addressed the class. How could she keep stopping like it was nothing? Sarah needed it to continue. The humiliation of being naked had been forgotten. The shame of being aroused in front of seventeen other girls had not even occurred to the longing teen, her focus directed inwards, the sensations in her body consuming her thoughts.

"Murphy?"

"The pussy becoming moist Ma'am."

Sarah snapped out of her sexual dreamstate at the sound of her friend's sweet Irish lilt, where she was and what she was doing came crashing in upon her. Her face burned with shame. She was disgusted with herself. How? She had acted like some lesbian whore, some kind of sex addict. She lowered her eyes to the floor, knowing that she was breaking position but unable to care.

"Correct Murphy. The cunt of a slut produces juices due to sexual arousal. This helps lubrication. Porter, attention. Infraction for disobedience."

Sarah snapped her eyes forward, disappointed at herself for displeasing her teacher. The disappointment warred with her shame. She had no tears left. She felt like she would die at any moment. What was her life becoming? What was she becoming?

"Now where was I Porter?"

"Um you were talking about the juices a slut's cunt produces Ma'am," Sarah replied meekly.

"Yes, each slut produces their own style of cunt-juice. Some slut’s juice is thin and watery, others produce a thicker, whiter substance, very much like cum in appearance and or course we everything in between. Each slut smells different and each slut tastes different. Porter, wheel the table over to the middle of the platform and get on it," directed the teacher.

Sarah did as she was told, glad for any distraction from standing there listening to Miss Rice teach. She pulled the strange chair until it reached the middle of the platform and climbed over the side. As she slid over the chair and faced the class, the full realisation of what she was doing hit her. She had tried to put it out of her mind as long as she could, but she could no longer escape it.

The anxious schoolgirl sat on the table, her legs dangling between the stirrups. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the humiliation she knew was to come. As her legs spread she heard some soft titters from the girls in front of her. She knew what they were reacting to. As her legs came apart, strings of sticky moisture could be clearly seen connecting her thighs. As she lifted her legs into the stirrups she heard another round of muted noise from her classmates.

"Exactly," cried Miss Rice. "This is what we call cream. Cuntcream of pussycream or plain cream. Not all sluts cream so this is fortuitous for our first lesson."

Sarah felt disgusted as she heard her teacher describe the state of her pussy. As she had spread her legs her pussylips had opened slightly, showing the class the dollop of thick white cream that had collected at the entrance to her vagina. She had always thought it was normal for all girls to have their pussy produce this. To have produced this from the attentions of her female teacher confused and terrified her. What if she really was a lesbian? Really, that’s the biggest worry right now, the forlorn girl chastised silently.

"Now let's get you settled and we can continue with our lesson," stated Miss Rice as she strapped the young girl’s legs into the stirrups.

Sarah winced as she felt something cold against her pussy. She watched, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, as her teacher scooped a sizable amount of thick white cream from her pussy. She watched as Miss Rice removed the spoon, a long string of sticky cream connecting the metal utensil and slit until finally it broke, leaving a thin wet trail from her pussy down onto the smooth plastic of the chair beneath.

"The cunt did not want to let that go," laughed Miss Rice. The sultry teacher bent down to Sarah's pussy, "do not worry little cunt, you can always make some more."

Sarah watched through newly forming tears as the teacher took the spoonful of her cream to Olsen. She did not think that anything could be worse than having the class see the evidence of her arousal, but being ridiculed for it made her want to shrink in on herself. If she was not strapped in she thought she may just have run from the room, punishment or not.

"Take her cream Olsen. Smell it, go on. Yes, breathe it in. That is the scent of a slut other than yourself. Each slut is different. This one has a very minor scent. It is a nice thick cream but with little pungency, which is quite different."

Sarah stared as Olsen lifted the spoon of cream under her nose and breathed in her scent. Olsen's eyes were tightly closed as she sniffed the white dollop.

"Now taste the slut's gift Olsen."

Sarah watched Olsen's eyes flicker open. They darted around the room, at her teacher, at Sarah strapped and spread before her. Sarah could feel she was almost in a panic.

"Just dip your tongue in Olsen, all the girls need to smell and taste Porter's cuntcream. Sluts must familiarise themselves with all scents and tastes. It is important to be able to recognise your owner or in fact anyone who uses you from any information available."

Sarah cringed as Olsen's tongue hesitantly edged out of her mouth towards the cream filled spoon. Just the very tip of the tongue darted into the thick white cream and then disappeared back inside her mouth.

"Olsen you could not have tasted that properly. Do you not want to learn Porter? Rest your tongue in the cream for three seconds. Then pass it along to the next girl. Once it reaches you Carew bring it to the front and give it to Porter. She should not miss out."

Sarah watched as each girl was passed the spoon, smelled and tasted her cream and passed it on. Most girls were clearly disgusted. She almost died when it was Murphy's turn, but her Irish friend looked Sarah straight in the eyes as she boldly stuck her tongue deep into the thick cream. She knew her friend was sending her a message, telling her to be strong but it did little to lessen the revulsion she felt with herself.

Taylor was the only girl to react differently. Sarah saw her almost revel in the scent from the spoon. And her tongue lingered in the thick liquid much longer than the three seconds. In fact Sarah was sure it flicked slightly from side to side. There was bound to be one Sarah thought. In a group of 18 girls there had to be one lesbian. Or maybe there were more, she was still very confused by the cause of her arousal.

Soon, too soon, Carew walked forward and handed the spoon to Sarah. The trembling teen knew what she had to do. She lifted the spoon to her nose and smelled herself, the subtle scent she knew but the taste would be something entirely different. She had never even thought to taste herself. She rested her tongue in her own cream, feeling the fresh tears slide down her cheeks.

'You can have it Porter," said Miss Rice as she placed a box on a stool she had set up next to the chair. She had been busy while the class taste tested Sarah's pussy.

Sarah held the spoon in confusion. How long was she supposed to hold it for? What was the point?

"Eat up Porter. All fluids are to be consumed. A slut must never forget that, clean up any mess that is made, whether it comes from you or someone else. This includes spit, cuntjuice and most importantly cum. You are never to waste a drop of cum. Cum is a slut's manna from heaven, it is the greatest gift that you will ever receive. A slut craves cum almost like an addiction."

Sarah listened to her teacher in horror. She was being told to eat her own juice. Eat something that came out of her pussy! The rest of the speech was almost lost on her as she stared at the pool of slimy liquid cupped before her. She looked at Miss Rice, who only smiled sweetly at her. The smile did something strange to Sarah. It calmed her and focused her thoughts. She didn't want Miss Rice to stop smiling. Right at that moment she could not bear it if Miss Rice stopped smiling.

Sarah popped the spoon in her mouth and poured her cream inside. She turned the spoon over and cleaned the concave side with her tongue as she withdrew it from her mouth, never taking her eyes from the sensuous curve of Miss Rice's smile.

"Thank you Ma'am," Sarah said, gratified as her teachers smile widened slightly.

"Good girl. Now we have to move on, there will be plenty of time to enjoy each other’s cuntcream. Our first basic lesson in hygiene is keeping a clean cunt. Now girls, cunt hair is an evolutionary relic. It serves no purpose, is unsightly and most importantly obstructs the view of a slut's holes.

"Now your owners may decide to style the hair on your mons but that is their prerogative. At Harkwood, Trinity cunts are kept clean. I know that many of you have quite filthy cunts at the moment and we will end this lesson by rectifying that. It is a slut's responsibility to keep her cunt clean. No excuses are accepted. Shaving is not acceptable as it leaves unsightly rashes and stubble. Some of your patrons may choose to permanently remove your cunt hair but for now you will learn how to wax your cunt and asshole."

Sarah had never thought of shaving or waxing her pussy. She had wanted her hair to grow thicker. She had always wanted to look less girlish and more like a woman. She had always been disappointed it was not thicker and now she was going to have it removed forever. She knew it was popular, called Brazilian waxing and she had never really understood the appeal but what Miss Rice had said did make a kind of sense to the teen.

"We use wax strips at Harkwood, hot wax is used more often when the cleaning is done by another. In future cases the first step is irrelevant but the cunthair should first be trimmed to allow the wax to take proper hold. Luckily we don't have to do this with Porter, her body is clearly striving for the natural slut state, see how sparse the hair is.

"These are cold strips, meaning we do not have to heat the wax first. Now Porter take this strip, now place the waxy side down onto your cunthair. Rub along the strip in the direction the hair is growing, making sure the wax adheres well to the hair, rub it a few times. That's right. Now grab the end of the strip that is furthest away and pull the strip up towards you. If you look at your cunthair it grows down so you wax against the grain. Put your other hand on the skin above the strip, pull the skin tight. Good, now pull hard and fast, one quick motion."

Sarah had followed all the teachers instructions without hesitation, doing her best to not only please her teacher but to get herself off this chair and out of this degrading position as quickly as possible, but now she hesitated for a moment. She grit her teeth and screwed up her face as she prepared to pull the strip back.

"Aaagh," Sarah yelped as she ripped the strip off her body, pulling her hair out by the roots. She had only managed to pull half the strip from her skin. At least half the length of the white strip was still connected to her body.

"Terrible, but it was a first try. You need to work with much more conviction. A slut must commit fully to every task she is set. The results of failing to do this are obvious. Try again.”

Sarah grit her teeth, took a deep breath and pulled on the strip with all her strength. She moaned pitifully through clenched teeth as the strip came away from her skin and dangled in her hand like some mangled animal.

“Look at how much hair is left behind, atrocious. Continue Porter. Refine your technique. Keep going until your cunt and asshole is clean. Make sure you press the wax hard into your skin, your first pass was weak. Now girls watch the way she is working the strip around. You use a strip for two or three passes, good passes not weak ones like the one we just saw."

Miss Rice continued to talk as Sarah worked the wax strips across her pussy, painfully pulling out more and more hair with each try. Her focus was totally on what she was doing. She didn't notice her teacher move around behind the chair until she felt her warm hands caressing her, gently stroking the hair back from her head.

Sarah yelped and gasped with each fresh pull but the tender stroking of the teacher helped her to deal with the pain, helped her to focus on doing a good job. It took her at least three attempts before she managed one good clean removal. She had always hesitated just that little bit, never fully committing to the action, and it had showed. She knew this was not going to stop until it was done properly, so she had grit her teeth and forged ahead.

"Rub your fingers over your cunt, make sure those areas are totally clean. One hair will earn an infraction," instructed Miss Rice as she continued to caress Sarah's forehead.

As Sarah finished one strip and reached for another she gingerly rubbed her fingers across the areas of her pussy she had waxed. She felt one or two tiny hairs that she could not see and made sure to remove those on her first pass with the new strip. In only a few more passes Sarah had completely denuded her pussy.

"Now girls watch as the slut moves down to the asshole. It is a little more difficult to reach on your own but you must learn how to do this yourselves. Often you may be given help but often you will not."

Sarah leant forward a little more to reach the area around her asshole, where the sparse, downy brown hair grew even less frequently. She wished Miss Rice would call her by name and not 'this slut', it made her feel cold and small as if she had no feelings at all. This was hair she would not miss but the humiliation of spreading her asscheeks further was no less for that. The young girl made quick work of the area around her asshole and hesitantly ran her fingers around her sphincter to make sure nothing remained.

"I am finished Ma'am," Sarah stated proudly, and with a little reticence as she knew it would mean that her teacher would stop her soothing attentions.

"That remains to be seen Porter."

The teacher moved in front of the trembling teenager and leaned over, her face extremely close to Sarah's pussy. Sarah watched as her teacher scrutinised her freshly waxed pussy, her face a mere inch away from the freshly smooth skin. After the visual inspection, Miss Rice began to slide two fingers across every inch of Sarah's pussy; her mons, her lips, the crease of each thigh before moving down to her asshole.

Sarah had begun to lose herself in the sensations caused by her teacher’s fingers. The tightening in her belly returned, her nipples hardened and her thighs tensed trying to close her legs on the fingers, prevented by the strap on each stirrup that kept her legs widely spread. Her whole body tensed and her asshole puckered as her teacher’s questing fingers slid over and around her tight pink sphincter.

"Good girl Porter. Slow but thorough. Now we wipe the cunt and asshole with a wetwipe that will remove any traces of wax and moisten the skin. Finally we rub a tiny amount of baby oil over the area to soothe and moisturise. Just a tiny drop on the tip of your index finger, smooth it around. We only want to moisten, not smother the cunt. If you need to use another drop then do so but only a drop at a time."

Sarah poured a small drop of oil on her finger and began to slowly spread it around her pussy, starting with her mons and moving her way down. She needed a number of drops to do the area properly and she was especially careful to touch her pussylips and clit with great care. She did not want anyone to suspect she was attempting to pleasure herself.

"Girls come up one by one and feel this slut's freshly cleaned cunt. See how red the skin is, you can see the tiny red dot of some of the nastier follicles. Once you have all felt how a clean pussy feels we will clean up the rest of those cunts."

Olsen stood up and moved between Sarah's spread legs. She reached out and placed two fingers on Sarah's smooth cunt, moving her fingers around, feeling for herself the evidence of a job worthy of her teacher’s praise. After a cursory feel she removed her fingers and moved to sit down.

"Olsen."

The girl turned back towards Sarah and saw Miss Rice's outstretched hand offering her the spoon that had contained Sarah's pussycream.

"The slut is still producing cream. I want each girl to check the slut's cunt when they have finished examining it. If there is cream, scoop it out and eat it. Savour the flavour and replace the spoon on the slut's belly. It is a terrible thing for a slut's cream to be wasted."

Olsen took the spoon and gently scraped up the small trickle of thick cream that was oozing from Sarah's pussy. There was enough to create a small pool in the bottom of the spoon, though not as much as Sarah had consumed. Olsen hesitantly moved the spoon to her mouth and in one quick motion emptied the slimy contents inside. She was not as thorough as Sarah had been with her own juices and a think string of moisture stretched from Olsen's mouth as she withdrew the spoon. It snapped and swung back onto the shamed schoolgirl’s chin, leaving a thin glistening line down from her lip. She placed the spoon on the reclining girl’s belly as it if was a dangerous spider and hurried back to her seat.

Sarah lay back on the chair, unable to move, and watched passively as the remaining girls of her class came up to feel her pussy. Her freshly waxed skin throbbed a little, but this tiny pain was nothing compared to the still present ache of the cane strokes on her bruised buttocks. The near constant attention of fingers over her pussy and ass kept her in a state of arousal, her pussy continuing to pump out the thick cream to feed her classmates. Her breathing had become rapid and shallow and the flush of desire had mottled her chest, neck and face.

The reactions of almost all the girls were identical: reluctance, shame and revulsion at having to consume the juices from her pussy. Murphy was different; her pretty Irish friend approached her purposefully, felt her smooth pussy and ass with tender affection. Sarah knew she was acting with such strength, showing silent solidarity with the tormented teen. As Murphy caressed her pussy, Sarah began to feel a need to play with her nipples. They had remained hard and they had become almost painfully so. As the attention continued the need became a compulsion and her hands balled into fists to prevent her from touching her the tight buds of flesh that tipped each breast.

The only other girl to react differently was Taylor, even the sneering Casta was reluctant despite her apparent bravado. It was Taylor who surprised Sarah, her actions cementing in Sarah's mind that she was a lesbian. The small breasted girl's fingers were questing, even slipping inside the wet pussy for an instant. Her touch was lingering where the other girls had been cursory and impersonal. Sarah could have sworn that Taylor had even shivered slightly as she swallowed a large spoonful of Sarah's cream.

When the last girl had finished fondling Sarah's pussy, when the last girl had used her as a teaching tool, Sarah realised that nine of her classmates had consumed her cream. Nine of her potential friends had eaten something from her body, from her most private of places. Did they hate her for producing the cream? Would she if the positions were reversed? Then again Miss Rice had said she was an unusual slut, that not many girls produced what she did.

Sarah bit her lip as she realised that she had just referred to herself in her own thoughts as a slut. Was she? She really didn't think so but she seemed to know the right things to say, things that a slut would think. Her body was definitely acting this way and her teachers had praised her for it. She was deeply confused. She knew it was wrong. She knew she had to get out of this school. But what could she do? She was going to be beaten again and simply for not keeping her eyes forward. What could she possibly do?

"We are running a little low on time girls, so I will be cleaning the rest of your cunts myself. I believe you have seen enough from Porter on self-technique but it will be valuable to see how it is done by someone with experience. Everyone undress, put your clothes on your stools and stand at attention until you are called up.

"Porter you can assist me in cleaning these cunts. Move it Olsen, you are next."

Miss Rice released the straps holding Sarah's ankles in the stirrups. Her legs had been spread wide for so long that they trembled and felt weak as she stepped off the chair. Her thighs actually felt strange not being spread so wide. She felt that if she lay down they would spring open on their own. The young gorl stood at attention next to the chair and waited as Olsen clambered up, taking the position Sarah had so recently vacated.

"Strap her in Porter."

Sarah looked to Olsen, pleading with her eyes, hoping that the frightened girl would forgive her. She lifted the unresisting teenager's legs into the stirrups and fastened the straps, locking her in place.

Sarah moved beside the chair again and waited, watching Miss Rice's every move. What had taken Sarah minutes was accomplished in a matter of moments by the more experienced teacher. Olsen breathed hard and yelped as the hair was ripped from her tender flesh and Sarah fought to stand still so great was her need to comfort the girl.

"Porter once they are clean, unstrap them, wipe and oil the cunt and asshole of each slut. They will step off the chair and Present on the platform where you stand."

Sarah immediately unstrapped the girl from the chair and brought the box of wipes and the oil to her side. Olsen scrambled off the chair and immediately moved to the present position, exposing her pussy and ass to Sarah's ministrations.

"When you are finished with them Porter, slap the ass and they will move to their seats and stand at attention, giving the oil a chance to dry."

As she wiped and oiled Olsen's pussy, the teacher called up the next girl. Miss Rice was so accomplished that Sarah had barely finished oiling Olsen's bare pussy when the next girl was ready. Sarah slapped Olsen's ass and the humiliated teen scrambled up and went back to her seat. Sarah shared the girl's humiliation. She was now being used to help demean her friends. Once again she was just a tool and nothing more.

The next ten minutes was a whirl of activity as the teacher waxed her classmates and Sarah cleaned and oiled them. It was not until Taylor was called up that there was a break in the process and she had a chance to think.

She had just fondled the pussies of numerous girls her age. She had never touched a girl like that before, never even thought about it. Her nipples were still hard, becoming a little more painful with each passing minute. She knew her own pussy was still wet, still producing her cream. She felt it on her thighs as she worked. The fact that none of the smooth teenage pussies presented to her had juiced like hers made her all the more conscious of her difference, made her feel separated from the other girls and it only deepened her shame. She was the only slut in the class who was sexually aroused.

"Now girls see this cunt, the dirtiest in the class. It is in a shocking state," Miss Rice commented as she pulled the thick thatch of hair on Taylor's mons. The skinny young girl had an extremely thick, dark triangle of hair between her legs and around her asshole. The hair was even growing well into the crease to either side of her pussy.

"We are going to have to trim this forest back before the wax can get in there. Taylor you have earned one infraction for letting your cunt get into this state. It would be two but the juice you are producing is indicating that the slut is not entirely bad, just lazy."

Sarah saw what Miss Rice was talking about. The hair around the entrance to Taylor's pussy was sopping wet, matted together in a veritable swamp of pussy juice. There was no evidence of the cream that Sarah had but it was clear to the whole class that Taylor was deeply aroused.

The buzzing of the electric clippers filled the room as Miss Rice began to trim back the long, thick hair from between the girl's widespread legs. Tears were already running down the slim schoolgirl’s cheeks. The rich triangle of hair between her legs had always been her badge of womanhood. Her breasts were small and her slim figure had always made her seem more girlish than her 16 years. Now it was being taken away from her. She felt this was worse than having the collar locked around her neck. Something was being taken away from her, something much more tangible than freedom. This was something key to her identity, integral to the way she saw herself.

Sarah watched as the clippers trimmed back the hair. When the teacher had finished and reached for the wax strips, she thought that the girl's pussy already looked much better. She could not help but agree that a smooth and clean sex looked much better: more feminine, more sexy and much tidier. Did that thought make her a slut?

The transformation between Taylor's legs was like night and day. Miss Rice had quickly removed the stubble and left behind a gleaming, smooth area. From her close vantage point Sarah could see a number of little tiny droplets of blood on the skin. That hair must have been in there good, she thought.

"Before this slut gets oiled, everyone come out here and smell this cunt. Get some experience in the differences between sluts. We are very lucky in our first lesson to have two sluts juice up so well. You will notice that Taylor has the more common variety of cuntjuice: clear, much less viscous, less creamy and more watery in nature."

Olsen, as the first girl, moved between Taylor's spread legs and leaned in towards her smooth, red pussy. She breathed in the scent, noticing the much stronger odour.

"Lick. Taste as well. Start at the opening of the cunt and lick to the top of the slit. File that taste away, lick three times to ensure you have it. Really get that tongue in contact with those fat cuntlips."

Olsen's tongue quivered as it neared the spread girl's plump labia, the bright lights of the schoolroom causing the newly smooth lips to glisten. There was a moment's hesitation as she breathed in, steeling herself for the degrading task she had been told to perform, inhaling the strong scent of Taylor's pussy as an unexpected by-product.

Taylor moaned as the hot wet tongue made contact with her pussy, made all the more sensitive by the recent waxing. As each girl in the class tasted Taylor's pussy, her arousal increased. Her chest heaved as she struggled for breath, her face and neck coloured deeply, her eyes glazed as her body succumbed to the pleasure that was steadily rising within her. Her thighs trembled, unable to close or even move.

Sarah was standing only feet away, watching the pretty young teen lose herself in the sexual feelings. Her hands were clasped tightly together behind her back and she realised with shame that her hips had begun to move back and forward in tiny circles. She caught herself and stood still, horrified that she had reacted in this way, terrified that any of her classmates had seen her.

"Porter, your turn."

Sarah stepped in front of the strapped down teen struggling for breath. Without any hesitation she licked the exposed pussy three times. She did not linger but nor did she rush through it. Her teacher had placed some importance on learning scents and tastes and she knew this was not an idle indulgence.

Well that settles it, she thought. I am not a lesbian. That pussy was definitely not to my taste. Surely lesbians love the taste of pussy? It was a true solace for Sarah to think this way. She had been shocked and dismayed by the growing realisation that she might be a slut but the confusion over the way her body had reacted to the touch of a woman was now put to rest. It was a great relief.

As she resumed her position next to the chair, the taste of Taylor's pussy strong in her mouth, she watched as Miss Rice leant down between Taylor's legs and began to eat her pussy. This was no mere licking. Sarah and Taylor were the only ones to be able to see what was going on but her teacher's whole mouth had enveloped the slim girl’s delicate pink lips.

Taylor's reaction was immediate. Her hands flew to her breasts, kneading them, caressing her nipples. Moans escaped her mouth as she threw back her head in ecstasy. Sarah hoped that Taylor would get her hands off her chest before the teacher saw. It took a mammoth effort of will for Sarah not to follow Taylor's example and fondle her own breasts.

"Casta," called Miss Rice as she stood up from between the moaning girl's legs.

Porter immediately unstrapped the prone teen, hoping to distract both her teacher and Taylor from the sight of the girl fondling herself. She had not been told not to, but Sarah was sure it was not allowed. She looked at Miss Rice who was looking at Taylor and licking her lips. Sarah hurried her off the chair and made sure the dazed girl adopted the correct present position.

"Now class look at this. Here is a slut who has tried to embrace her nature but simply failed in execution."

Sarah looked at Casta as Miss Rice secured the straps across her ankles, ensuring her legs would remain spread widely during the waxing. Sarah had seen the young French girl’s pussy from a distance, in the showers. She had been shaved but since being at Harkwood she had obviously not had access to a razor and the stubble had begun to grow back. It must have been rather itchy and uncomfortable Sarah thought.

"Fortunately the hair is long enough to be removed but here is evidence enough why shaving is so undesirable. It looks terrible and it feels disgusting," said the teacher as she rubbed her hand across the French girl's exposed vulva. It did not last long however. Miss Rice proceeded to denude the prickly pussy as Sarah oiled Taylor's still wet one.

It was not long before every cunt in the class was clean and smooth. Sarah looked out from her vantage point on the platform at her classmates arrayed before her, naked, more naked now than they had been when they started. She glanced at the bare pussies she could see and imagined what her own must look like. As she stood at attention and looked out at the class she noticed that most every girl was looking at her. Not just at her but between her legs. Sarah began to feel extremely self-conscious. She already felt horribly vulnerable, nothing that had happened had yet managed to lessen her attitude to her own nudity.

Miss Rice soon noticed the class seemed to be collectively focused on Sarah's pussy. She moved around from beside the chair and looked at what was so mesmerising. Sarah was unsure what to feel when she saw the sultry lips of her teacher curve into the sensual smile that she so longed to see.

"Ah now that's a good little slut. Yes girls, the slut has kept producing her cream all this time.  Good girl Porter. I am aware that you will probably never have seen this before and it is only fair that you do. Carefully lean forward and look at your pussy."

Sarah was a little worried at what she would find. Miss Rice was very pleased with her though so she knew it could not be a bad thing. The pretty teen carefully leaned forward, bending at the waist, and looked between her legs. Dangling from her pussylips was a thick string of her cream, almost two inches long. It was swinging slightly as she moved.

Sarah bit her lip to stifle the sobs. She no longer cared that her teacher was pleased with her. She was ashamed but more than that she worried what the other girls would think of her. Miss Rice had already said she was an unusual slut for producing such thick pussy cream but now, after standing at attention, it was oozing out of her, visible to everyone.

"Porter straighten up and spread your legs wider, very gently. Just shuffle them, heel then toe. Good girl."

Sarah was now standing with her legs spread almost three feet apart. She could not see but she imagined the string of cuntcream swaying and swinging as she inched her feet wider. The tormented girl hoped whatever was going to happen would happen quickly. Her thighs were already straining to hold the uncomfortable position.

Miss Rice disappeared behind Sarah. She could hear movement but she stayed true to her brief training and looked straight ahead. She was looking at the clock on the back wall, noticing it was only minutes away from the end of period when she felt a tickling of her thighs. It felt like... hair. Sarah's eyes opened wide as she felt a hot breath between her legs.

"You may watch Porter."

Sarah's gaze instantly flew to the open space between her legs. Miss Rice was leaning backwards between her legs, the top half of her face visible beneath Sarah’s freshly denuded mound. The flustered teen locked eyes with her teacher and watched as Miss Rice opened her mouth and raised it towards Sarah's pussy. Upwards rose the supine teacher's mouth enveloping the long string of hanging cream until lips met lips and the questing tongue sought out the cream at its source.

Sarah moaned as contact was made, her eyes remained locked with the mesmerising green eyes of her teacher. She had never felt anything like this, her whole body shivered but she could not look away. A pulse of heat burst through her chest into her nipples and wave after wave of almost overwhelming pleasure crashed through her pussy. Masturbating was nothing like this, even when she flicked her button it did not feel like this. But this was her teacher. Teacher’s weren’t supposed to do this. Not even here, at this school that was so wrong. The young girl felt disconnected from reality, as if time and space was somehow disjointed.

As suddenly as it began, the ecstasy was over. Sarah groaned in despair as Miss Rice moved out from beneath her and appeared standing in front of the gasping schoolgirl. She could see her teacher moving her tongue within her mouth and imagined her cream swirling around her teachers delicate pink tongue, the tongue that so recently had been on her, inside her.

"Now girls I hope you were watching. The slut was clearly approaching orgasm. No slut is allowed to come without permission. An immediate detention is earned for each orgasm. Porter is a good slut, especially considering she is untrained and a virgin."

Sarah was instantly wrenched from the pleasurable daydream she had lost herself in, reliving the sensations of her teachers mouth on her pussy, trying desperately to hold on to the ecstasy she had felt as her teacher sucked the cream from her cunt. She came crashing down as she realised that now the whole class knew she was a virgin. She heard the whispering gasps as her classmates reacted to the announcement.

"She is highly sexual, almost coming from a mere touch on her pussy. A slut needs to learn that her pleasure is not important and it is a gift to be treasured and cherished if granted. The fact that she is such an easily aroused slut may make her training a little more strenuous but she should be proud of it nonetheless. Proud of yourself Porter?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah replied in a daze. She was trying to take everything in but she felt so conflicted.

"Explain your pride to the class."

"Ma'am I am proud that I am a natural slut and that this pleases you Ma'am."

"Good girl Porter, surrender to your instincts. Feeling pride, and taking satisfaction in, the pleasure of your betters is second nature to you that much is obvious. Attention. Now all girls dress and take your seats."

Sarah thankfully straightened up and left the platform to retrieve her clothes and dress herself. Was it so obvious, her feelings of pride. She definitely felt them. She almost glowed inside when her teacher smiled at something she had done. When she spoke to the seductive Miss Rice she was sincere, more than she had ever been in her life. She hardly even thought about what she was saying. The words seemed to just tumble from her mouth.

"You must remember girls that 'pride cometh before the fall'. While it is the way a slut will feel simply due to what she is, it is not acceptable to indulge such thoughts as this redirects the focus inwards and a slut’s focus should always be outwards. Feelings of pride, satisfaction and even pleasure in service are to be accepted as simply a facet of your nature, like your need to indulge your craving for sexual release or your desire to satisfy this need in others.

"Think on this girls. Search your feelings as your training continues. The true depths of your personalities will become increasingly apparent to you. They are already transparent to your teachers, trainers and owners, it is why you are here. It is obvious to those who have experience, those who know what to look for. It could not be more obvious if slut or whore was written across your foreheads.

"Of course some are further along than others. Porter has already begun to embrace the essence of who she is. Every slut here will graduate from Harkwood. Every slut in this room will leave Harkwood and provide a valuable contribution to society and a long life of pleasure and servitude to her owner. This is not in question. The journey however is up to each and every slut herself."

Sarah sat on her stool, listening to her teacher speak. She felt the truth of the words but somehow, for some reason she could not quite accept them in the way that she knew Miss Rice thought she had. She felt much better now that she was no longer naked. She still burned with the humiliation she had endured during the class, but it was tinged with the pleasure that lingered from her contact with Miss Rice and the protection she gained from her uniform made her feel secure and more herself.

She felt terrible that she did not feel the way Miss Rice wanted her to. She longed to confess it to her but she was terrified of making her unhappy, afraid that she would not see her teacher smile at her again. That was something she simply could not bear. The bell sounded.

"Run along to lunch girls. I will see you again this afternoon."

Sarah's heart missed a beat as she heard this. She would see Miss Rice again today. She almost skipped as she followed Murphy out of the room. The annoying beep of the scanner in her ear made her frown but not even that degradation could totally dampen the happiness she felt knowing she would see the mesmerising teacher again so soon.

Chapter 9. In which Sarah has her first free period

Sarah once again thanked her lucky stars that she was not the girl first in line. She wasn't sure she could make it back to the food hall if she was leading. The class of Trinity girls only made it as far as Miss Watson's door before they were halted. Their form teacher was standing in the open doorway of her classroom. Sarah joined the three girls before her, standing dutifully at attention. Within moments two close lines of uniformed girls had formed neatly in front of Miss Watson.

"Girls, you are heading to the lunch period now. This is your first test with the general population of Harkwood and I want a good showing from Trinity house. Your handlers know what to do. I want the report I receive to show that there were eighteen obedient Trinity sluts during lunch period.

"Your movement around the school as a house should be as you are now formed. When you leave a room, you form up before moving off. I don't want to see you wandering around the school like that herd of cows that I just witnessed. Is that understood?"

"Yes Ma'am," the class chorused obediently.

"When you are dismissed from lunch you report to your dorm. Your housemistress will then take over your instruction. Move off."

The two neat lines continued down the corridor. As they approached the landing the school began to come alive. The noise of schoolgirls moving through the halls, chatting and laughing, filled the air. The eighteen silent girls of Trinity house moved across the landing and down the stairs to the ground floor. The formation became ragged and chaotic as they moved down the stairs. The untrained girls were simply unable to negotiate the steps in their high heels and still remain in their neat lines.

They came together at the bottom of the stairs and headed towards the food hall, moving with the flow of the other girls. Sarah saw the looks they were getting, no doubt the simple fact that they were neatly lined up and silent was enough to garner attention. Sarah, however was sure that their collars and high heels were also causing them to be stared at.

More than likely her still hard nipples would also be a topic of conversation and staring. She heard a number of girls laugh as they walked past her and she was positive they were laughing at her. She wasn't sure how long her nipples had been hard, almost an hour she was sure. The rubbing sensation of her blouse across her already hard nipples ensured that as long as she moved they would remain tightened, causing her no small discomfort. Sarah looked around at her classmates, trying to read their minds or their body language, anything to gain an insight into how they were feeling.

They were surrounded by girls who were not her to be trained as slaves, normal girls, leading normal school lives. What if they found out? What if she, or one of her classmates, could just walk up to one of these girls and reveal the secret, debased side of Harkwood? Would they be believed? It seemed as if the staff here would have that all thought through, they had been doing this for years. They had a cover story that would make anything a Trinity girl said sound stupid and staff and prefects were scattered everywhere. What would the penalty be for attempting such a thing? Sarah could feel the ache in her abused buttocks, radiating unceasing waves of pain throughout her body. How could they do anything?

They were soon at the food hall and the noise was now immense. It was not that it was so loud but after the near silence of her classes this cacophony of teenage girls hit her an almost physical blow. As the other girls of the class moved inside and took their turn in line, Sarah broke with formation and stood outside the hall, looking in, trying to spot Miss Harper. She had been told to wait for her outside. Obviously none of the other girls' handlers had made this same command.

Sarah was soon all alone in the corridor. The last few straggling girls had trickled past her into the hall to get their lunch. As the moments ticked by, Sarah began to worry. She tried not to panic and used the time to assess how she was feeling. Her nipples were uncomfortable. Really they were aching slightly, just over the threshold into being painful. Her ass still ached from the caning she had received that morning, though the sharp sting had subsided. Her sex tingled, it almost felt like she had pins and needles running all over the tender flesh of her pussy and asshole. As she thought about her pussy, she thought about how smooth it seemed and how wonderful her panties felt against her.

She wasn't sure if it was just because she now had no hair between her legs or if she was just becoming more sensitive but she could feel the panties on her pussy, conscious now of the sheer material where she had not been before her waxing.

Sarah began to think about her lessons so far that day but the worry that she had been forgotten began to occupy her mind. She could see all the other girls eating, she could smell the delicious food but she could not see her handler. She must be at one of the tables that Sarah could not view from the angle she had from outside the food hall.

She could not go inside. Sarah knew the moment she moved she would be in trouble. After all she had stood outside by herself for this long which had made her more conspicuous. Just when she had really begun to panic, when the indecision over whether she should stay or move had begun to be unbearable, she saw Miss Harper moving through the crowd of seated girls.

Sarah could not help but smile at the approaching prefect. Her relief was immense. She was glad to see Miss Harper. She knew more about what was going on here now, facts she had not known the last time she had seen her handler. Now she understood just what Miss Harper had to do, the responsibility she had in looking after her and in reinforcing her training. She vowed that she would never give her handler a reason to be disappointed.

"What are you smiling at Porter?" enquired Harper, genuinely curious.

"Hello Miss Harper," Sarah replied, curtsying as she did so. "I am happy to see you."

"Well Porter, okay," said the somewhat bewildered prefect. She was not entirely sure how to respond to what was an obviously sincere sentiment.

"Did you enjoy your first lessons at Harkwood?"

"Yes Miss Harper."

"Miss will do Porter. Did you learn a lot?"

"Yes Miss."

"I bet you did. I hope you are going to be a good girl for me during lunch. All meals are generally the same. You must clean the hall after eating your lunch. If you finish cleaning before the end of the period you are to come directly to me. I will be in the main courtyard, which is directly off the main foyer, I forgot to show you that last night. I am responsible for you during this period so I don't want you dawdling all around the school, understand?"

"Yes Miss," Sarah replied obediently.

"Okay hurry inside and get in line. I don't think any Trinity girls have been served yet. At lunch and dinner you get served last. Breakfast is different because it is easy to get you out of the way, otherwise you would miss valuable minutes of schooling and no one wants that do they?"

"No Miss."

"Hurry along."

Sarah trotted off to stand in line. Harper watched her go, a little confused. She had thought she would have found Porter upset, perhaps rebellious and disobedient. Instead she found a girl who greeted her with a smile and who actually seemed happy. She was going to have to talk with the other prefects about their girls.

Sarah hurried to the front of the food hall, aware that almost everyone she passed stared at her. Her cheeks could not help but colour as she imagined what they were saying about her; her collar, her hard nipples, her provocative walk forced upon her by the high heels. She remembered that these girls knew nothing about her special schooling, nothing about her being trained to be a slut. They all thought they were troubled girls sent to Harkwood to be straightened out. She was sure they all thought she was probably here for being some kind of sex fiend.

She definitely heard the word nipple at least once as she walked the length of the hall, joining the line of girls waiting to be served. She noticed that her classmates were standing in a separate line against the wall. There were only a handful of girls from the other houses still to be served and Trinity house obviously had to wait aside until last.

It did not take long before her line was moving. She shuffled forwards eagerly, aware now that she was quite hungry. It was soon Sarah's turn, she collected a plastic tray and waited to be served. One of the kitchen staff put a bowl of salad on her tray and a large bottle of water. She had seen the other girls getting served so she was not surprised but the lunch she and her classmates received was very different from the rest of the school. She could still smell the delicious odours of pasta and curry and a number of other dishes.

Every Trinity girl had been given the same thing: salad and water. Sarah weaved between the tables of schoolgirls, eating their lunch and chatting merrily. Her stool next to Murphy was free. She placed her tray on the table and sat on the plastic stool, noticing again how the seating caused her to naturally spread her legs. She did not even have to think about adopting the position.

"You should hurry and eat Port, you missed it but Mrs Lancaster said that we have until 15 past to eat our lunch and then we have to go to our stations and be ready to clean. So you only have about five minutes," the Irish girl said between mouthfuls of salad.

"Thanks Murph," Sarah replied as she stabbed her salad with her plastic fork.

She had to admit, the salad was delicious. The lettuce was crisp, the cucumber sweetly refreshing and the dressing was subtle yet amazing. In fact, Sarah admitted to herself, it was perhaps the best salad she had ever tasted. She reached for her bottle of water and noticed for the first time that it was already opened and that there was no lid. Even her water was delicious, with a slight hint of lime.

Sarah focused on enjoying her meal, as every other Trinity girl was doing. She tried to forget the rest of the day and just be right here, right now. She glanced up at the clock and realised she only had a minute remaining. She had almost finished her salad, so she did not need to worry.

The other girls at the table started to stand. Sarah looked to the front of the hall and noticed the red light was on. She went to lift her tray but noticed that all the other girls had left theirs behind on the table. Sarah was not sure what was going on but it must have been something else she had missed. As she started to move off to her station she glanced back at the table. Her eyes were immediately drawn to her stool. Sarah was horrified to see a dark wet spot in the middle of the black circle. Her pussy juice had obviously soaked into her panties and now leaked from there onto her stool.

Sarah frantically looked around the room, terrified someone would notice. She didn't know what to do. She remembered from her classes this morning that all fluids were supposed to be consumed but there was no way she could get down and lick the stool in front of the rest of the school. In front of girls who were unaware of her status.

The humiliated teen rushed off to her station, hoping and praying that no one would notice her pussy juices on the stool. Hoping and praying that it would quickly dry before anyone had a chance to see. She soon stood at attention at her station, making sure her pussy was directly over the number 4 stencilled on the floor beneath her. No one had told her to be so specific but she felt it was right to be neat and it felt good to do something that felt correct without being told.

The rest of the school were slowly finishing their lunches and drifting out of the food hall in small groups. Sarah watched her section like a hawk. She did not want to annoy any of the normal schoolgirls and so was waiting until a section of table with at least four empty seats had opened up.

Normal schoolgirls? She knew there was a definite distinction between the girls of Trinity house and the rest of the school, that had been made abundantly clear, but she was unhappy with herself over the choice of words she had unconsciously used. Her gaze kept darting back to the Trinity table, back to her stool, desperate for people to stay away from that area to give her pussy juices a chance to dry. The fear of being caught began to prey on her mind.

She spotted a space clear as a couple of girls left the table in front of her. Sarah swooped in and cleared up their lunch dishes. She could see the remnants of a number of different dishes as she cleared the trays. Her salad was delicious but it had not been particularly filling and she realised she was still hungry.

As Sarah took her first round of trays to the counter she noticed that the hall was beginning to empty much faster now. The lunch period was almost half over and Sarah guessed the girls wanted to spend the rest of their period doing something more fun. She, however, was stuck here cleaning up after the other houses. She was not sure how long this would take. The breakfast clearing had not taken too long and the girls were a little more experienced now.

By the time she made it back to her station all the tables were empty. She was able to clear whole tables now and she decided to take a gamble and clear every tray from a table at once. Sarah stacked eight trays together, piling up the dishes and empty drink containers, attempting to distribute the weight evenly across the tray.

She hoped she was not making a mistake by doing this but it would save a lot of time. She took a deep breath and lifted the trays. They weren't that heavy, it was just the balance she would have to watch. Her steps were a little slower but, as she safely deposited the eight trays on the counter, she knew she had saved time.

Sarah hurried back to repeat the process, maybe she could even add an extra tray or two. She admitted to herself that even though cleaning up after other girls her age was a little demeaning she was beginning to enjoy it. She was starting to make a game of the activity, see how quickly and efficiently she could complete the task set for her.

A second and then a third table in her section was cleared. She had retrieved a washcloth on her last trip to the counter and now began to clean her section and straighten the chairs, making sure to catch every crumb and every spilled droplet of moisture. Her section was the first to be cleared and she moved on to the tables surrounding hers and helped her classmates. She lost track of time as she immersed herself in her task, becoming absorbed by doing a good job and making sure all the tables were clean and tidy. She had always liked things to be neat, always hated mess and seeing things out of place. Soon all the tables were cleared and cleaned, leaving only the two Trinity house tables unattended. As the girls were moving back to their stations, Mrs Lancaster came out of the kitchen and called them over to their tables.

"Stand behind your assigned seats."

Sarah looked worriedly at her stool as she moved to stand behind it. Her pussy juice had dried thankfully, but there was the very slightest of marks on the black plastic. Sarah was sure no one could see it if they didn't know what to look for. She relaxed just a little.

"I see a number of meals not finished. You are on carefully controlled diets and if you are set a meal you are to eat it. I am gratified that you liked the salad well enough but I see four bottles that have not been finished. The girls in question step up to the table and finish now."

Sarah and three other girls stepped forward. She hadn't known she had to finish everything, even the water. She took the 650 ml bottle and began to drink. Over half was left and after only a few mouthfuls she began to struggle. She continued drinking mouthful after mouthful. When the last trickle was gone she set the bottle down on the table, noticing that she was the last to finish and that all eyes were on her. She fervently hoped that she had not caused any of them to get into trouble.

"Not finishing a meal is a show of disrespect to myself and my kitchen staff. You are dismissed to seek out your handlers for the remainder of the lunch period. You four come with me."

Sarah's heart sank. She had found trouble again and through something as small as not finishing a bottle of water. She joined Ozawa, Ness and Cox as they followed Mrs Lancaster to the kitchen area. Here they were lined up against the wall and Mrs Lancaster scanned each of their eartags and made the correct notifications against their records on the ubiquitous laptop that every staff member seemed to have.

The anxious schoolgirl glimpsed the screen as her infraction was added. This was her second since the tally was reset after her correction that morning. What really worried her was the flashing red 'DETENTION' that appeared at the top of the screen. She dreaded what this would mean. Detention had always been a fear of hers, even though she had never even come close to attending. But here, now, the word detention took on a whole other level of terror for the young girl.

"Dismissed," Mrs Lancaster declared sternly.

Her classmates quickly vacated the kitchen, unhappy and disappointed in themselves that they had earned more strokes of the dreaded cane. Sarah lingered for just a moment.

"I am very sorry for any disrespect Ma'am."

"Thank you Porter. Now run along, there is still 20 minutes of lunch left and your handler must wish to know where you are."

Sarah moved to hurry off to find Miss Harper.

"Oh and Porter?"

"Yes Ma'am," she replied turning around, halfway through the door.

"If you fail to finish a meal again your infractions will double, I won't tolerate any disrespect of my staff and their efforts to keep you healthy. Understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," she replied dejectedly.

She honestly did not need the reinforcing message. She still didn't quite see how not finishing a bottle of water was disrespect but that was not really for her to question. There was a lot she did not understand and a lot she was having trouble accepting but she vowed to do better. Sarah hurried out of the food hall in search of the courtyard, quickly found herself in the foyer. She had passed a number of girls along the way but now she was alone. The great oak front doors were but steps away. Through those doors lay another life; the simple life of a teenage girl whose biggest worry was what breakfast cereal to have. Just through those doors, thought Sarah, staring at the huge wooden panels.

She sighed and turned away, heading to the other end of the foyer and on to the courtyard. Through a simple open archway she entered the large stone-tiled courtyard. It was a huge open square with two long corridors of columns down each side of the main building, creating a pleasing wave of curving arches until they met the building edge and turned back to finish the square. A number of huge trees shaded parts of the courtyard and stone seats and benches were dotted around the open area, all covered in chatting and laughing schoolgirls.

Sarah stood at attention and surveyed the courtyard trying to locate her handler. She did not want to get in trouble for being unattended during a free period. She spotted Murphy and her handler and was tempted to wave, but Murphy had her eyes focused on the ground at her feet.

Sarah kept scanning, becoming a little desperate before she finally saw Miss Harper, seated under a tree with a group of girls. She hurried over and curtsied before her handler. She felt it best to perform this show of respect in front of her handler’s friends. Miss Harper had taken on a great responsibility in looking after her and Sarah felt that she should do her best to make her happy that she had done so. After all the prefect was only a year older than her, Sarah doubted she could accept the same burden.

"This is my girl," Harper explained to her friends. "Porter come stand behind me."

"What is she supposed to do Reece?" asked one of the seated girls, staring at Porter as if she was some strange alien being.

"Behave herself. She is here to be trained to be a valuable member of society. You know about the Trinnies Miranda."

"Yeah I know Reece but what's she supposed to do here, I mean here with us."

"Can't be trusted on their own during free periods," explained Harper.

"What's that on her neck?"

"Collar. They've all got one, they need it for discipline," replied Harper.

"Ha, like a dog," one of Harper's friends laughed.

"So she’s just going to stand there the whole time?"

"She does whatever she is told."

'Tell her to do something then," piped up a girl called Stacey.

"Like what?" replied an exasperated Harper, not particularly interested in talking about her charge for the whole period.

"I don't know, make her stand on one leg," laughed Stacey.

"Porter stand on one leg," commanded Harper.

Sarah obediently raised her left leg, attempting to balance on the small surface area that the high heel of her right shoe allowed. It was not the easiest thing to do with her hands behind her back.

"That's pathetic, make her raise her leg higher."

"Raise it Porter, get your knee out level."

Sarah raised her leg higher, lifting her knee to hip height. She wobbled a little but managed to correct herself by shuffling her right foot, scuffing it on the hard stone flooring. All the girls in Harpers circle laughed at her. Sarah felt the familiar flush of heat to her face as she bore the brunt of their ridicule.

"Clarice, I can see her panties. Make her turn around."

"Turn around and face the tree Porter."

Sarah turned and faced the trunk of the great tree that was shading them from the hot noonday sun. She focused her attention on the gnarled bark, trying to lose herself in the intricate patterns, to forget about the humiliation she was suffering at the hands of these girls, schoolgirls like herself. She was doing her best for Miss Harper. She hoped she was not causing her any embarrassment.

"Back on one leg Porter," commanded Harper.

Sarah lifted her right leg, this time her leg continued high, her knee stopping once it reached hip height, knee creating a perfect right angle which, while aesthetically pleasing, was not an easy position to maintain. She was constantly struggling to maintain her balance, requiring small movements of her legs, body and arms.

Harper and her friends continued their conversations as if Sarah did not exist. She tried not to listen in, feeling it was in some way rude to hear the private conversations of her handler’s friends. She could not help but overhear certain details, mundane things mostly, about movies and fashion and boys. All the things that were part of a different world now. A world she had existed in only days ago but was now closed to her.

"Change legs Porter."

Sarah silently thanked her handler, she had begun to really struggle to maintain the position and retain her composure. She smiled as she lowered her right leg and raised her left. She had not been forgotten and for some reason this made her feel happy. The confused schoolgirl felt a wave of feelings for the older girl. Sarah wasn't quite sure what they were: a strange mixture of respect and happiness and maybe, if she admitted it to herself, a little pleasure that Miss Harper had thought of her. The feelings were tainted by the fact that the group of girls continued to talk as if she was not there. They laughed and joked with each other. They never spoke self-consciously or mentioned her presence and it felt terrible to feel like she did not exist.

Sarah's legs had begun to tremble and her leg had been bobbing up and down as she struggled to hold it high. Her leg had once dropped almost to the ground before she caught it and swiftly lifted it. She felt bad that she had not managed to hold her position but it did not seem that anyone was even watching her. She heard the electronic bell sound, though it had a slightly different chime. The flurry of activity she sensed in her peripheral vision told her that the courtyard was quickly emptying as the girls headed back to class.

"See you in class, I have to get my girl back." Sarah felt a tiny flutter in her belly when she heard Miss Harper refer to her as "my girl". The feeling unnerved and confused her. "Come Porter," her handler commanded.

Sarah gratefully lowered her foot to the ground and turned to follow her handler. Both her legs felt rubbery as she walked after Miss Harper, being sure to stick to her position, slightly behind and to the left

"Miss?" Sarah ventured hesitantly.

"You ask permission to speak Porter."

"Permission to speak Miss?" said the chastened girl.

"Yes?"

"Miss, why was the bell different?"

"It's the warning bell, letting us know we have five minutes before class resumes."

"Miss I am sorry that I was not able to hold my proper position during lunch," Sarah blurted, unsure, even as the words left her mouth, why she was asking for trouble.

"Well... just try to do better next time," replied a slightly bewildered Harper. She had her back turned to Porter the whole time. She had honestly wanted to forget she was there, try and have a normal lunch with her friends. She was going to have to ask Miss Peach about Porter at the prefect's form the next day.

Sarah followed her handler in silence the rest of the way to her dorm, still pondering her hurried confession as they arrived. Most of the other girls were already present and had begun to form their usual lines.

"In line, I will see you at lunch tomorrow." With that her handler strode off to class, leaving Sarah with her classmates. Miss Peach came out of her room and stood before the quickly forming lines of girls.

"Hmm Mitchell, is missing. Where is... Move it Mitchell," Miss Peach yelled. Sarah could hear the clatter of high heels on the wooden floors as Mitchell ran down the corridor to take her place in line.

"Infraction for tardiness Mitchell. Inside and change into your gym clothes. You will have gym first period after lunch every day. You need to be changed and in front of the gym by second bell, which you will not make today. You sluts need to learn to be on time. Your time is not your own. Your time, like everything else, belongs to your superiors. Right now that is to the staff of Harkwood, later it will be your owner. When you waste someone's time you will find it will always be recompensed."

The bell for class echoed down the corridor.

"See, late already and you have not even changed. Move, now."

Olsen led the way, scanning at the lounge door and then again in the dorm. The other girls followed in turn, performing the obedient game of follow the leader that was becoming so much a part of their routine.

Sarah moved to her bed and started to undress. She was sure to fold all her clothes neatly on the bed, noticing that it had once again been immaculately made. As she removed her shoes she placed them in the appropriate space in her cupboard. Once she was naked she looked for her gym clothes.

She had not taken any notice of these small garments, during her induction they had all still been wrapped in plastic and she hadn't had a chance since then to inspect them. The socks were no trouble: small white ankle socks, two tiny balls of material, looking for all the world like little pompoms dangled from the elastic band at the back. She had never seen socks like this before, they were cute but they had a definite little girl feel she thought, not really something a fashion conscious teen would wear.

The shoes she had already worn and once again she marvelled at the comfort from the deceptively functional black shoe. She tried her best to follow the general rules of dressing and reached next for her gym panties. They were much more substantial than the small g-string she wore as part of her normal uniform. They looked similar to the pants she had seen the girls working out in last night but they appeared much more brief.

As she pulled them up her legs she noticed how wonderfully stretchy and fitting the material was. They felt just like the cotton/lycra blend of the gym clothes her mother had bought for her, and which she had failed to wear even once, but these appeared to have a much shinier finish and fit snugly over her freshly shaved pussy. The gym panties were really tiny shorts: each leg finishing high on her thigh, in line with her pussy, the back cut a little higher, the bottom of each asscheek not quite covered.

Unlike her uniform panties, these had a seam running through the middle, from front to back. The waistband was much thicker than she had seen before; almost two inches thick. It was white and contrasted with the deep blue material to look almost like a belt, Sarah thought. The waistband fit snugly just below her hipbones, the whole garment really only covering about six inches of her tender teenage flesh. The elastic of the thick waistband was tight, there was no danger of them going anywhere during exercise she thought thankfully.

The bra matched the panties. It was of the same material and cut in a brief halter style, with a Y shaped back. The front of the bra crossed over high on her chest, just below her throat leaving a large teardrop shaped opening that displayed the curves of her breasts as the tight material pushed them together. Sarah had never worn anything that gave her cleavage like this. She snuck a glance at Mitchell and noted the teen’s large tits were mashed together entirely filling the opening with jiggling breast-meat.

Her hair was still in a ponytail so she guessed her gym uniform was complete. She hurried out the room, scanning as she went and took her place in the almost complete lines. Miss Peach was waiting for them, surveying the young schoolgirls now scantily clad in their gym uniforms. What a sight they made, the housemistress thought. It was a truly great day when she had accepted her position at Harkwood. The housemistress watched as the last girl found her place in line.

"Hassel, step out of line."

The frightened teen stepped out from the illusory protection of her classmates and stood before Miss Peach. From behind her back the housemistress produced a wicked-looking leather crop. She brought the instrument sharply against the girl's left thigh and buttock, three, then four times.

"The last girl into line is letting everyone down. I won't abide dawdlers in my house. Get back into line and stop snivelling or I will really give you a reason to. Now get to class."

Olsen and Mitchell led the girls off to class. Once again the neat, clean lines disintegrated into organised chaos as they went down the stairs but reformed instantly when they were again on flat ground. It did not take them long before they reached the gym where they could see a woman waiting for them. She did not look happy.

Chapter 10.  In which Sarah has physical education

The two lines of anxious schoolgirls formed up before what was obviously their gym teacher. She was dressed in a two piece outfit in the Harkwood blue, very similar to what every girl in Trinity house now wore. Sarah could see the prominent muscles of the woman's frame clearly defined. She was more than athletic, she had muscles that went well beyond being toned.

"Seven minutes," she snapped. "Seven minutes. This time will be made up at the end of standard class today. Get inside the gymnasium on the double."

The girls marched through the well-appointed gym and into the large gymnasium.

"Register and form up, single file along the red line."

The polished wooden floors were covered in coloured lines. Each girl looked down and soon spotted the red line which seemed to form a large rectangle following the contours of the room, some four feet from the wall. Olsen moved off to her left and all the other girls followed.

"Left arm up, reach out and touch the shoulder of the girl to your left, move along to your right until your fingertips just touch. This is what you do when told to form a line."

In moments the eighteen schoolgirls had spaced themselves neatly.

"On my whistle, 10 squats."

SPREEP.

Sarah wasn't exactly sure what to do so she simply bent her legs and lowered her ass and then raised it back to a standing position.

SPREEP.

"My god, I have been lumbered with a pack of imbeciles. You, Cox, come out here and face the class. The rest of you slackers copy Cox."

The pretty blonde teen stepped out in front of the class and turned to face them. From her first moments in the showers Sarah had felt an affinity with Cox, even though she looked almost the total opposite of Sarah. She was not sure exactly why, maybe because she also had that cute, girl-next-door look or maybe it was because she was the only other American.

Cox had ash-blond hair that fell bright and smooth to her shoulders. She was slim but definitely not toned. Her slightly fleshy shape made her look soft and inviting and Sarah always felt like cuddling her. She would be great to snuggle up to she thought, like a cuddly teddy-bear.

Right now though, Cox stood in front of the class in the fetching gym uniform and it was only as she stood to attention that Sarah noticed the effect of the gym panties had on the crotch of the young girl. The seam of the small shorts had been devilishly placed. Sarah could clearly see the outline of Cox's pussy lips as the seam went straight between them. She cringed inwardly as she knew that all the girls must appear this way, especially now they were freshly smooth.

"Squat. Cox, back straight, hands behind your head, fingertips just touching your head, do not clasp your hands. Those arms are to remain straight. Now as you squat you bend the knees, lower your ass to the ground. As you go down your knees spread wide. Hold the position for a count of two and rise, closing the knees as your legs straighten into the standing position.

"No Cox, legs spread wider and smoothly as part of the squat, you don't reach the lowest point and then spread them. Smooth movements. Arms straight Cox."

The teacher turned to the class and surveyed the nervous girls.

SPREEP.

All eighteen girls began their squats. As they lowered their asses to the ground, the teacher walked among them, threading herself down the line of schoolgirls. She made corrections along the way: making sure knees were spreading smoothly, arms were remaining straight, backs were not slouching.

"Ten lunges. Cox, step out your left leg directly in front, further. Now you lean into the lunge, lower your rear knee to the ground, and bend your forward knee into a right angle. Do NOT overextend the forward knee. Hold for the count of two. BACK STRAIGHT. You should not have to be told to keep your back straight. Next girl earns an infraction. Five right, five left.'

SPREEP.

Again, like a carefully choreographed dance, all eighteen girls began to lunge forward together. Sarah was already feeling the effects of this physical exertion. She began to sweat, her heart beat faster and her breathing became fast and shallow. Her thighs began to ache with the strain being placed upon them. A strain they were most definitely not used to. She could see some of the other girls were having similar reactions.

"Cox, get your ass on the floor. Turn sideways to the class. Lie on your back, hands straight by your side, knees bent. Crunches. Lift your body off the floor, head and neck straight. Slide your arms up your thighs until they reach the knee. Tense your core. Hold for two. Down.

"Everyone on your asses. Crunches, ten. Go."

SPREEP.

Damn that whistle was getting annoying. It was ridiculously loud in the huge empty hall. Sarah winced each time it sounded. She started her crunches, her entire body quivering by the time she started on her third. Her feet started to lift off the floor and she was immediately pounced on by the teacher. The distressed girl managed to make it through all ten without again drawing the ire of the imposing and slightly scary Miss Vonn. She lay back, sucking in deep breaths, praying for a small break.

"On your feet. Cox, remain turned to the side, on your belly. Hands by your tits. Feet apart, further, past your shoulders. Pushups. Lift your body up off the ground until your arms are straight. Keep that bloody ass level, don't poke it up in the air. There ain't no cocks around to stuff you now. Lower your body. Do not rest, keep the movement smooth. Pushups, ten."

SPREEP.

The girls all fell to the floor and adopted the position they had seen Cox demonstrate. Sarah pushed her body off the floor and then slowly lowered herself. She could not do this. There was no way she could get through ten. As she raised herself for the second time her arms began to wobble and she could feel the strain through her belly and chest.

"Breathe in when your tits touch the ground, breathe out as you push off the floor. Don’t lock the elbows. Mitchell don’t think those big udders mean you don’t do a full pushup. Mash those fat sacks into the floor."

Sarah pushed up for the third time, her arms and body quivering. She held herself off the ground for a moment, gathering herself before attempting another. She raised her body for a fourth and then a fifth time, breathing as she had been instructed, finding it marginally easier. She marvelled as she performed the sixth, the seventh and the eighth but as she attempted to raise herself off the floor for the ninth time her strength failed her. She collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. She looked at her classmates out of the corner of her eyes, desperate to know she was not alone in her failure. Cox was already back on her feet, as were a few of the other girls. Mitchell was still struggling and Taylor had collapsed as she had.

"Any girl who does not finish a set earns an infraction. Mitchell, one to go. Porter and Taylor, two. Get those sloppy sacks off the floor. Cox get my belt, you will see it hanging on a hook by the door."

Sarah heard Cox run off to retrieve the teacher’s belt as she raised herself off the floor. She attempted another pushup, lowering and raising her body as quickly as she could.

"Doesn't count Porter, get your ass in line."

Sarah groaned but obediently lowered her ass so her body was once again in a straight line. She focused on keeping her body straight as she tried to replicate her last effort. Down and up as one swift smooth movement. She was doing well until she had to straighten out her arms. She struggled and wobbled for a moment but collapsed again, no closer to finishing the set.

Sarah looked to her left, Mitchell was now standing at attention, her chest heaving and Taylor finished her last pushup as Sarah watched. Now she was the only girl who had not completed the exercise. She was extremely disappointed in herself, and a little angry. She could not be the only girl who failed at this.

She pushed herself up off the floor and raised her body, ready to begin again. She held the position for a second to gather her strength and tried for her last effort. She lowered quickly, but as she raised herself from the ground the wobble in her arms and body threatened to best her again. She could not get these last two. She lowered her knees and head to the ground and her eyes began to water in despair.

Her whole body jerked off the ground as pain shot through her. Sarah instinctively reached back to her thigh. It felt as if a wasp had stung her, a wasp on steroids. She rolled on her side and looked up. The teacher was standing over her, a wide leather belt now strapped around her waist with what looked like holsters at each hip, the bottoms of which were also strapped around the teacher’s shapely thigh. She looked as if she was ready for an old west gunfight.

Sarah saw the contraption that had caused her such pain. The teacher held a small black plastic tube in her hand, it looked a little like those electric fire starters people used at barbecues. As she watched the teacher depressed a switch and a bright blue spark jumped from the tip. Sarah realised she had just been shocked by electricity.

"You have one minute to finish the last two pushups Porter. At the end of that time you will accrue infractions for any that are unfinished. If you break position I will again provide you with some motivation."

Sarah immediately resumed the pushup position. Her arms extended straight from the floor, her body maintained the pleasing straight lines that she was expected to display at all times. She gritted her teeth and lowered down and pushed up. As she straightened her arms she began to feel the familiar weakness, the terrible quivering. She remembered the pain of seconds ago but also the despair she had felt that she would fail. Sarah let out a loud grunt as she straightened her arms for her ninth pushup.

She gasped and struggled to breathe, the pain in her arms an throbbing ache. Her legs trembled, her asscheeks quivering under the tight blue panties. She had one more to go, just one more. She vowed to herself that she would do it no matter what. She took a deep breath and lowered her body to the floor, her nipples just brushed the floor and she struggled to raise her own weight. She passed the danger point as her elbows straightened but the final small movement was proving too much. Just a few more inches she begged her body.

"Right," she heard the teacher proclaim.

Sarah used every ounce of energy she had and pushed herself up. She had completed all ten, she would not get an infraction, she had not failed. The wasp stung again and she collapsed on the floor, clutching her thigh. The puffing teen scrambled to her feet and stood at attention, chest heaving as she struggled for breath, her face red from exertion. Beads of sweat had formed across her body and, much to her chagrin, Sarah also noticed that her nipples had hardened.

"Porter, one infraction for laziness. You took much longer than the allotted time. You did manage to finish the set however. See what a little motivation can do. That should be a lesson for all you sluts. Your bodies can always do more than you think. It is often not the body that is weak it is the mind, though in Porters case it seems they are competing against each other to see which is the weakest. When you think you cannot continue, that is when you need to find your inner reserves and push harder than before. I can guarantee you that the alternative is always going to be worse than any transitory pain you may feel."

"Shuttle sprints. I am sure you all know these, Cox back in line. Hand on the red line. Sprint across, touch the other red line and come back. Shuttle sprints, ten."

Sarah could not believe there would be no break. She had managed to get her breath back a little as her teacher spoke but she didn't know how she was going to do this next exercise.

SPREEP.

Eighteen girls raced across the room, their rubber soled shoes squeaking on the polished wooden floors. Sarah was easily the last of the pack, she just could not keep up.

'They are called sprints not dawdles. Run you lazy sluts."

The harassed schoolgirls picked up the pace. Sarah watched as her classmates began to pull away from her. She bit her lip and turned her focus inward. She thought of the disappointment she would bring to her teachers, she thought of the pain of the cane strokes that would result from a bad performance, she thought of Miss Rice frowning as she heard of her lack of commitment.

Sarah ran and ran, focusing only on the line in front of her, touch that, turn around and focus on the line in front of her. She was not even attempting to count, she just ran on instinct, watching her breathing and trying to move as fast as she could. As she approached the line again, the shrill whistle erupted in her ear. The strident noise startled her so much she almost lost her footing.

"Attention Porter. What do you think you are doing?"

Sarah struggled for breath. She needed to bend over, she needed to lie down. It took all of her willpower to remain standing and not rest her hands on her knees as she gasped and attempted to fill her lungs with air.

"Run...ing, shuttles... Ma'am," she stuttered between breaths.

"You were told to run ten. Why did you not stop?"

"Sorry Ma'am. I... lost count," replied the shocked girl. She could not believe that she had just kept running after everyone else had stopped.

"Another infraction for disobedience Porter, you had better get your act together. Over to the bench. Your gym bottles have been arranged for you so line up in order."

Sarah followed the sweating form of Murphy over to a bench situated at the far end of the room. As she got closer she could see eighteen small blue bottles lined up along the bench. She stood in front of the fourth from the left. The bottle looked similar to a normal water bottle but the lid was distinctly different. It looked almost like the plastic nipples at the top of a baby bottle.

"Drink. Keeping up your fluids is an important part of all exercise. Keep drinking until you are told to stop. Just as important as consuming fluids is the rate of intake. The natural tendency of a slut is to gorge herself and this is not conducive to a productive session."

Sarah leaned down and retrieved her bottle. It was cold to the touch, but all she focused on was the tip. She placed the clear plastic nipple in her mouth and sucked, instantly feeling the cool moisture trickle in to her mouth. Each suckle brought forth a little more liquid but she had to work for each drop. She kept suckling until she was told to stop and for all that effort she felt like she only really managed to get one or two mouthfuls but she was grateful for even that. All the girls replaced their bottles and turned to face their teacher.

"My name is Miss Vonn. I am your gym teacher. It is my responsibility to condition you to ensure your fitness and stamina is at the highest level to allow you to perform the duties of a slut without physical impediment. We have seen from the disgusting performance of Porter just how out of condition you sluts are. Most of you would struggle to complete a standard fuck session, let alone three or four."

Even after all that had happened today, Sarah had a hard time listening to her teacher talk this way. Fuck sessions? This was the reality of her new life? This kind of talk, and indeed eventually this kind of activity, was to be part of her everyday existence? She just didn't know how she could deal with that. She had never even had sex. She had never even seen a penis in real life. She felt ashamed just hearing a teacher mention it so casually, as if it was nothing. It may very well have been nothing to the teacher, but it was everything to Sarah. It was her life.

"After that very disappointing start we are going to begin your conditioning. First off you will run laps. Ten laps, alternating between running and duckwalking. One lap running back to this spot, then change to duckwalking. Cox front and centre. Squat down, hands on your knees. Now move. This is duckwalking. Single file. Everyone keeps up, if the line begins to stagger I shall motivate the weak link. Follow the yellow line. Ten laps."

SPREEP.

That damn whistle, Sarah cursed to herself. It was blown right next to her and she actually jumped in surprise. Olsen set a cracking pace. Sarah watched Murphy’s back as she ran, the beautiful white skin already beaded with sweat. Her gaze lowered to Murphy’s ass, covered by the brief blue shorts that clung to her curves like a second skin. She watched as the twin mounds of flesh bounced and jiggled as the young Irish teen ran. She wondered if Clark was watching her ass as well. Sarah noticed they were approaching the bench again and prepared to change into the duckwalk.

As Murphy squatted down she followed suit. Almost without breaking stride she began to waddle around the gym. She had not gone far when the realisation of how difficult this was going to be hit her. She tried to ignore the burning in her thighs and focused on Murphy's bouncing, burgundy ponytail. As they again approached the bench Sarah felt a wave of pride as she realised she had managed to keep up with the girl in front. Two laps down and she had kept pace.

As she straightened up to begin running the third lap the burning in her thighs intensified. Sarah's world became consumed by burning: her lungs burning for air, her muscles burning with fatigue, even the ache in her hardened nipples felt like they were being scorched by a naked flame.

Too soon the running lap morphed into a waddling lap, and again Sarah had kept pace with Murphy. As they approached the bench for the fifth time, Sarah heard a scream behind her. She didn't dare look but she could guess that one of her classmates had faltered and been shocked. She knew that pain and the very thought of it kept her running, desperate not to let Murphy get away.

On the sixth lap, the third during which she had to squat-walk around the gymnasium, the inevitable began. Sarah simply could not keep up. Her lack of fitness was telling once again. As the lap continued she began to fall further behind. As they approached the bench Murphy was a good six feet in front of her, the gap increasing every second. She watched for Miss Vonn, steeling herself for the 'motivation' she knew was coming.

As she waddled in she saw the teacher move towards her. As she straightened up to run Miss Vonn leaned in and shocked Sarah through the large opening in the front of her halter top. Pain exploded in her left breast, propelling her forward. She closed the gap with the girl in front in a matter of seconds. How obvious was that, she pondered as the sharp stinging sensation in her breast subsided. Miss Vonn was right, I was falling behind, I didn't think I could keep up but here I am back next to Murph. She vowed not to force Miss Vonn to motivate her anymore. She knew her body had limits. She knew she was horribly unfit but she would push herself to those limits and beyond. She knew Miss Vonn had a low opinion of her, the teacher had even used her as the benchmark for how bad the class was. She would make Miss Vonn proud of her yet.

The remaining laps went by without event for Sarah. She constantly struggled to keep in contact with Murphy, allowing the gap to widen slightly before spurring herself on and closing it again. The sweat was dripping off her now. Rivulets of moisture ran down her face, her breasts and her sides. Her bra and panties were wet with sweat, though this changed the material very little, only slightly darkening it in places.

The relief as they finally finished the laps was immense. Sarah attempted to control her breathing but she could not stop gasping for air. She stood at attention as best she could, her mouth gaping as she tried to get as much oxygen inside her as quickly as possible. Her knees twitched and shook as she attempted to remain upright at attention.

"Breathing is important. Slow breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Porter you look like a drowning fish. In through the nose, blow it out slowly through your mouth. That's right. In and out." Miss Vonn walked along the line of panting girls, assessing who was having the most trouble and who seemed to be coping with the punishing workout of their first gym lesson. "Drink."

Sarah turned to the bench and grabbed her bottle. She placed the nipple in her mouth and immediately began sucking. She desperately wanted that liquid and suckled as hard as she could while still fighting for breath. The fatigued schoolgirl soon realised that it did not matter how hard she sucked, only so much was going to come out. She settled down to a rhythm, trying to suckle as economically as she could, there was no need to waste so much energy to achieve the same result. Drinking in a rhythm also seemed to calm her and help with her breathing. Before she was told to stop she felt she had managed to get three or four good mouthfuls this time. Sarah replaced her bottle and stood back at attention, waiting obediently for the next challenge, hoping fervently she would be up to the task.

"Ok girls, step back to the bench and place your hands on the edge, hang your asses off the edge and put your legs out in front, feet flat, knees at right angles. We are going to work those triceps. Lower your asses to the ground, just touch and raise back up. Slowly and smoothly, ten."

SPREEP.

Sarah lowered her body slowly and touched her ass to the ground before raising her body back to the height of the bench. After the first full movement she could already feel the muscles at the back of her arm being worked. This exercise did not seem to be as bad as the others however and she managed to get through it and finish in time with her classmates.

"Right, back on the red line. Squat down, place your hands flat on the ground behind you, fingers facing away from your body. Now push your hips up, keep the arms straight, knees bent. Your body, from your knees to your head should form a straight line parallel with the floor."

Sarah pushed her hips up to the desired position. She needed to shuffle her hands and feet a little to keep the position but she soon managed to find her balance.

"Hold this position until told otherwise," commanded Miss Vonn as she walked down the line of stretched girls. She admired the taut young bodies, eager to test their potential and mould them into something to be proud of. She reached out and randomly caressed the girls as she past.

She could not resist Mitchell's tits, the large mounds sitting up off her chest, the ingenious support bra allowing the supine position to flatten them only a little. The teacher reached in and pushed beads of sweat around on the exposed flesh, dipping her fingers into the inviting crack between the malleable mounds. Miss Vonn smiled as Mitchell closed her eyes to the humiliation.

She moved on down the line of struggling teens, spotting Porter making a valiant effort to keep her body straight. The teacher leant down and patted the bulging mound of Sarah’s pussy, the lips spread by the seam so invitingly. It was like the panties were moulding themselves to reflect what was underneath. Sarah cringed at the easy way in which her body was used, the casual touch that held no hint of concern for her feelings. The self-loathing that swept through her at her submission to the intimate assault made her want to curl up into a ball in the corner.

“This position is one of many standard yoga positions. Some of you may have done Pilates in the past but that is just a trendy version of a much older discipline. At Harkwood you will be learning both Ki and Hatha Yoga, two different disciplines that will provide you with great flexibility and great strength. Not muscular strength, but strength of joint and strength of control. Ozawa straighten those arms.

“There are three key aspects to the physical conditioning of a slut: flexibility, stamina and control. We call this the trinity of condition. You need to be flexible to ensure your body can adopt any sexual position your partner desires. You need the stamina to be able to pleasure any who present themselves, with enthusiasm and skill no matter the timeframe. And you need control to enable you to hold positions, some of which are unstable and often uncomfortable, for as long and as often as your owner wishes.

“Today’s introductory class was a chance for me to assess your current state of condition. Hinka get that ass up. A very poor lot. Not one of you is closer than 30% of optimal condition. Of course you are untrained but even so, the sloppy state of your bodies is a disgrace to the current generation and a sad indictment on society. Schools like Harkwood are needed more now than ever and you are the perfect evidence of this.

“On your feet. Cox bring over that box from the bench. Now for the remainder of the lesson you will take a skipping rope and skip on the spot,” Miss Vonn explained as she walked down the line of girls, placing a coiled up rope in the hand of each girl.

Sarah took hers with trepidation. The little bundle of white rope and blue handles struck fear in her. She had not skipped a rope since she was a little girl and even then she was hopeless. She begged the gods of all things sporting that her coordination had magically improved over the years, despite her never really using, or needing, it.

SPREEP.

Sarah took a handle in each hand and shook out the rope. She stepped gingerly over the inert white line as it lay on the floor, as if was about to rise up and strike her. Here goes, the anxious teen thought to herself. Sarah spun her wrists in small circles, bringing the rope up behind her and straight into the back of her head. She immediately flushed crimson as she heard both Clark and Murphy giggle. Yes, she was sure it looked quite hilarious but she was even more sure that if she did not get this right, and quick, Miss Vonn would be making sure no one would be giggling.

Sarah focused more intently, obviously she needed to swing the rope with more speed. The next time she was successful in getting it over her head but she badly mistimed her jump and the rope smacked into her feet before she had a chance to properly lift them.

SPREEP.

“Cox and Porter, front and centre. All eyes on these two girls as you resume skipping.”

SPREEP.

Sarah’s colour deepened, her chest, neck and face mottling a deep crimson as the class stared at her as she attempted to skip. She knew she looked like a retarded pelican trying to take off but she was trying her best. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Cox, skipping competently, timing her jumps to perfection.

Being out in front of the class was actually beneficial to Sarah, she could see how all the other girls were doing it and she did her best to imitate their actions. She tried to put the humiliation out of her mind, tried to forget that she could not grasp such a basic activity as skipping rope. Her gaze flicked from girl to girl, trying to pick up any pointers she could. She was soon skipping, only faltering every third or fourth spin, mistiming her jump and lifting one of her feet a little too slow. As time wore on she began to get the hang of what she was doing but her muscles were tired and it seemed like she had been out of breath for the entire lesson.

Sarah looked at the exhausted row of girls skipping, their young nubile bodies bouncing, glistening with sweat. Mitchell was a sight to behold. Her large tits seemed like they were struggling to escape through the small open area in the front of her top. The support the sports bras provided was amazing, but no bra in creation could stop tits bouncing, especially not ones the size of Mitchell’s.

The sight of sixteen pairs of breasts bouncing and sixteen pairs of hard nipples made Sarah think of her own. Her nipples could be seen as two small bumps under her tight gym top. Not nearly as prominent as they were in her blouse, where almost the entire shape of the aureola was visible. The almost constant hardness of her nipples throughout the day was beginning to become a source of distress for the young schoolgirl. The growing desire to massage the poor aching nubbins of flesh was, at times, almost overwhelming.

“Tomorrow we will start our program. Each gym period will consist of 20 minutes of yoga to begin. Once you are warmed up, a cardio routine that will vary each day will last for 20 minutes. For the last 20 minutes we will do circuit training. As your bodies become trained and accept their conditioning the regime will evolve. Exercise in itself is fun and rewarding but for something a little extra we will be having games and events as well.

“In three months, the annual cross country is due. Seven schools compete in this event. Harkwood has a reputation to uphold. I expect a Trinity slut to place in the top five at the very least. You have gym five days a week, always the same period after lunch. On Saturday you have swimming scheduled.

“I will be working with each girl closely on her program and I will be monitoring your fitness and condition. Every slut has a different body shape and your patrons have some very specific ideas on the way they wish you to look. There are no grades in my class. It is pass or fail and if you fail then you stay until you pass. So simple a slut can understand. You have access to the Trinity gym after school hours and I will be ensuring each and every one of you makes full use of the facilities.

“Some of you have a lot of extra work in your futures,” finished the teacher, looking in Sarah’s direction.

Sarah’s face was red with exertion, the sudden flush of humiliation lost like a match on a fire. She was not going to be able to continue for much longer. It felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Her hair was plastered to her face and both her bra and panties were soaked. Every single muscle in her body ached, most of which she hadn’t even known existed an hour ago. Her vision was becoming slightly blurry, but whether this was from tears, sweat or exhaustion she did not know.

SPREEP.

Sarah all but collapsed on the floor. Her arms hung limply at her sides and she gasped for air, trying to breathe as she had been instructed but she felt this was not providing her with enough air. She had to resort to breathing through her mouth, panting noisily.

“Drink. Finish off your bottles.”

The girls moved to the bench and began drinking greedily. Sarah at least had the presence of mind to immediately move into her suckling rhythm, ensuring she got as much of the precious moisture as possible. She could only suck for a second or two before she needed to continue sucking oxygen into her lungs instead. Despite her terrible lack of cardio fitness she was the first girl to finish her bottle. She set it down on the bench and wondered what to do. The skipping rope still dangled from her left hand. Without knowing what she was supposed to do, Sarah fell back on the first thing she had learnt, standing at attention.

“Porter, tie up your rope, collect all the others and place them back in the box.”

Sarah rolled her skipping rope around her hands until it was in a tight coil. Before she could place it in the box she was almost deafened by the squealing whistle in her ear.

“Porter is that how the rope was issued to you?”

“Um, no ma’am,” replied the frightened girl, her ear still ringing.

“Tie up the rope as it was issued to you.”

Sarah uncoiled her skipping rope and stared at it as it dangled limply from her hand. She had no idea how it had initially been tied up, she hadn’t really taken much notice. She tried to think back but she had no idea.

“I am a slut ma’am,” she replied despondently, tears welling as she degraded herself with those terrible words for the first time.

“Give it to me,” Miss Vonn snapped. She quickly and efficiently coiled and then tied the rope in a neat, tight bundle. She then proceeded to unravel it once again before handing it back to the unfortunate girl.

“Tie up the rope as it was issued to you.”

Sarah did her best to copy what her teacher had done. She managed to coil and tie the rope but it was neither as neat nor as compact. She hoped that it was good enough as she looked expectantly at Miss Vonn.

“In the box, now collect the rest.”

Sarah went down the line of still panting girls, collecting their tied ropes and adding them to the box. All her classmates had finished their bottles of water and were now lined up at attention. Once the last rope was in the box Sarah joined the line and took her position.

"After each gym class you are to return to your dorm and shower before your next class. You have 20 minutes before your next class starts. There will be no bell for this class, your housemistress will direct you. We have a few moments before the end of class and we can't have you standing around idle. You can run laps until the bell rings, when it does finish the lap you are on and exit the room."

With that, Miss Vonn began to check each bottle to make sure every slut had consumed her assigned water. Olsen led the class in another punishing lap. Sarah hoped that the bell would ring very soon because she didn't think she could take much more, and this time she really meant it. Not even if she was shocked could she push herself much harder.

The exhausted schoolgirls completed one full lap but just as they passed the door the bell rang. Olsen ran even quicker to get back to the doorway. Sarah was now running flat out, as fast as she could, even so Murphy began to pull away from her. Luckily the door arrived before the gap became too noticeable. The girls quickly scanned their eartags and left the gym, forming up into two lines and making their way back to their dorm.

Sarah was tired, more tired than she could remember ever being in her entire life. Her arms and legs felt like lead and she wondered if she would ever catch her breath. She walked back to her dorm in a daze, dreading the fact that she would have to come back tomorrow and do it all again. The lines of girls stopped abruptly outside the lounge door. Miss Peach was waiting for them.

"Oh my, look at you girls. Did you enjoy your workout?"

"Yes Ma'am," the class intoned with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

"I know gym is tough but it is for your own good. Everything we do is for your own good. I know you all wish to be the best slut you can be and just being able to suck a cock does not a good slut make. You are expected at your next class at half past the hour but I like to get my girls to their next class as soon as possible. I am going to switch the hot water on now so you have ten minutes to clean yourselves. I don't want to see any slackers. Off you go."

The tired girls moved to the showers, scanning their tags along the way. Once again the small cloth bags were hanging from the hooks next to the door in the shower room. Sarah began to undress, glad for once to be rid of the clothes she was wearing. Her gym bra and panties were soaked. She more peeled them off than removed them and headed directly to the showers.

The gentle, warm water striking her skin was the best feeling Sarah thought she had ever experienced. She just stood under the shower for a minute or two just relaxing. Before she put on the exfoliating gloves, she ran her hand over her nipples, relieved beyond belief that they were finally going down. The gentle caresses felt amazing, something she had been dying to do for hours. It was only then that she noticed Murphy showering next to her.

"Hi Port, I didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful," said her friend with a strained attempt at a smile.

"Thanks Murph. My nipples were really starting to ache. They got hard in biology and haven't gone down since."

"Yeah I noticed," replied Murphy, this time her smile was more genuine and held a touch of mischief.

"They have always been sensitive but these bras… Well Murph, I do like 'em, being so comfortable and all, but my nipples rub on my blouse and... Well it's ok if I'm not moving but how often has that been," Sarah explained as she put on her gloves and started washing herself.

"Port what are we going to do?"

"The best we can I guess," replied Sarah as she very gently washed her pussy and asshole. The skin was still very tender from the waxing and the rough material of the glove was only highlighting the tenderness.

"No Port that's not what I meant. What are we going to do about all this," Murphy said, exasperatedly grabbing her collar.

"But that's what I meant. What can we do? You heard them, they have been doing this for years. Our patrons signed us up, hell we signed us up Murph remember."

"You haven't given up have you Port? We have to think about this, we don't have time now but tonight after class we have to get together and figure this thing out. We can't become slaves and I am definitely not a slut. None of us are, well maybe Casta but she is definitely not like this."

"Yeah," Sarah replied without conviction. She agreed with her friend, she really did. It was just... some of the things her teachers had said kind of made sense. Hell she didn't know, she was so confused. When Miss Rice had put her mouth on her pussy... that was like... well she could not even describe it but surely only a slut would have felt that way. Now that she was out of class and away from her teachers it all sounded so wrong and bad but when she was there, in the moment well, it was different.

"Port you can't be..." Murphy was cut off by the shrieks of the girls around her as the hot water suddenly turned ice cold. The girls hurried out of the showers and dried themselves off with the rough towels provided. Sarah noticed that drying her neck was not a problem even with the collar, something she had been worried about the moment she stepped into the shower. The hairdryer slot was open again and Sarah hurriedly dried her hair as much as possible so she could get in early.

She watched the other girls jockey for position and she made sure she was near the front. She found herself next to Mitchell who stayed silent. All thoughts of being like Angelina Jolie obviously forgotten, Sarah guessed. Most of the girls were lost in their own thoughts, dealing with what had happened that day as best they could.

Sarah did not spend long drying her hair. She knew she was exposing her pussy as she did so and she was paranoid that the other girls would be staring at her, looking to see more of her cream. She hurried into the dorm to get dressed.

As She dressed in the same uniform she had on that morning she noticed a commotion in the dorm around her. She looked around as she slid her panties up her legs, resting them against her smooth and tender pussylips. They were still a little moist, a visible stain on the inside of the crotch and Sarah's cheeks instantly coloured a deep crimson at the thought of replacing these wet panties on her pussy.

A number of the girls around her had not started dressing. She looked at their beds, their clothes were gone. The distressed girls were looking around the dorm, at the other girls getting dressed, wondering what had happened.

"That's right you slovenly bitches. Your uniforms have been confiscated. When you undress, you fold your clothes neatly. You don't just throw them down like a lazy cunt. You four step out to the end of your beds.”

Sarah continued to watch as she dressed herself, glad that she had done the right thing. She already had a number of infractions and she simply could not afford more. She looked at Murphy and winced, her friend just pursed her lips and continued dressing.

"You have all earned an infraction for laziness but to earn back your clothes you must prove to me that you deserve them. Each of you will take three strokes of my crop," said Miss Peach, producing the wicked looking instrument from where it hung at her belt.

Miss Peach walked to Casta and handed her the crop. The bewildered teen took the instrument and held it as if it was radioactive.

"Casta you will apply the strokes to Mitchell's ass. Mitchell you will apply them to Clark, Clark will apply them to Manning and then we are back to Casta. This is your chance to show me that you deserve to wear the Harkwood uniform, remember that. Begin."

Casta turned slowly to Mitchell, who stood like a deer in the headlights, her naked breasts quivering in fear and uncertainty.

"Mitchell, turn around and face your bed."

Mitchell did as she was ordered. Not having the poor girl look at her made Casta's job much easier. Her resolve grew and she stepped up to the naked teen and brought the end of the crop down hard on Mitchell's asscheeks. The nude schoolgirl yelped and bumped forward into her bed. Casta pulled her arm back to strike a second time but was halted by Miss Peach.

"Mitchell, thank the slut. It is customary to thank those providing your corrections."

"Thank you slut," Mitchell whispered.

"Okay Casta, that one did not count as no one could tell if Mitchell appreciated it or not. Begin again."

Casta again brought the crop down hard on Mitchell's buttocks. The loud splat reverberating around the room.

"Thank you slut," Mitchell all but yelled.

Casta wasted no time in dispensing the last two strokes, Mitchell making sure she thanked her punisher so everyone could hear. When she had finished the trembling French girl handed the crop to Mitchell who took it and turned to Clark.

Mitchell strode over to Clark who immediately turned away and presented her bare ass to be punished. Sarah watched the girl in the bed next to hers as she prepared herself to receive the correction. She had screwed her face up in anticipation of the pain and Sarah desperately wanted to hold her, comfort her in any way.

Mitchell swung the crop into the fleshy mounds of Clark's ass. From the sound alone, every girl in the class knew the crop had hardly made contact. Instead of the loud smack it was simply a muted slap.

"Begin again Mitchell, that was atrocious. You could not have swatted a fly with that attempt. The slut before you has performed poorly. Do you not think she needs to be punished?

"Yes Ma'am," Mitchell replied hesitantly.

"Then show this class that you believe that," Miss Peach coached.

Mitchell stood to one side of Clark and planted her feet with purpose. She swung the crop and this time the noise echoed around the dorm. Clark screamed and threw her hands forward onto her mattress to stop herself from falling over.

"Thank you slut," she managed to squeak through the pain.

Mitchell swung again and again Clark screamed. Sarah could see that Mitchell was putting everything she had into each swing. Luckily we just had gym and much of her strength had been used, Sarah thought. The last stroke landed on Clark’s ass, but with much less power. It was harder than the first weak attempt but not by much. Sarah could see Mitchell was crying and she was sure the lack of effort on the final swing was due to a mental failing and not a physical one.

After Clark thanked her, Mitchell handed the crop to the recently beaten girl and the process was repeated with Manning and then Casta. Manning seemed to take special pleasure in punishing Casta. Each stroke was hard and well placed on the same spot on Casta's left buttock, leaving an inflamed red patch on the tender mound of teenage flesh.

"Thank you slut," moaned Casta after her last stroke had landed. She took the offered crop from Manning and handed it back to Miss Peach.

"You girls may now dress, your uniforms are under your pillows. Mitchell, you obviously did not really want to wear a uniform. You failed to convince anyone here that you believed in the punishment you were tasked with giving. That is a responsibility Mitchell and one which you abused. You have another infraction for lack of respect and you will not be wearing your blouse to class this afternoon."

Mitchell's sobs began afresh as she dressed herself, looking longingly at her blouse, neatly folded on her bed, as she did so. Sarah watched, fascinated, as the large-breasted teen stopped dressing as she adjusted her large tits into her bra. She felt sorry for Mitchell. Her uniform had become something sacred to Sarah in such a short time. She would hate to be denied any piece of it. It was strange, she thought, how Mitchell almost looked more vulnerable and naked by being half clothed. She could not take her eyes off the girl's udders as she walked, the way they bounced and jiggled within the support of her half-cup bra was mesmerising.

"Form up outside the lounge, because of these four sluts you only have about two minutes to get to class."

There was a mad scramble to get scanned and through each door and in line outside Miss Peach's room. From Sarah's position in line she could not see Mitchell's udders but the bare back, with just the bra straps across it still drew her attention. Mitchell had two little dimples in the small of her back, just above the waist of her small skirt. Sarah had these too and had always considered them kind of cute. She had not thought about it much before, probably because she had always found Mitchell to be a little annoying, but she was an amazingly attractive girl. All the girls were of course, but Mitchell's figure really made her stand out. Now that Sarah thought about it, if she had any talent she could easily have become a Hollywood star, hell even if she had no talent she was sure to have become famous Sarah laughed to herself.

"Move off, I will see you after classes this afternoon."