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Sarah Porter's Schooldays

Chapter 24 In which Sarah completes her second detention

Chapter 24. In which Sarah completes her second detention


"Enough laziness, on your feet," bellowed Mrs Huffington Smythe.


Sarah sprang to her feet, releasing the rubber nipple for the first time in ten minutes. She felt its loss immediately and deeply. The nipple had provided such a safe, comforting feeling as it rested in her mouth, that she had almost been happy for the first time since stepping into room 17. As the naked schoolgirl stood at attention in front of the latex-clad headmistress all feelings of solace drained from her.


Her second detention in as many days was supposed to have ended with her meal but due to her poor behaviour she had extended it by an entire hour. Her pussy burned as if it was on fire, a combination of the tortures she had inflicted upon herself in the previous hour. Just thinking about what she had done brought fresh tears to the struggling schoolgirl's eyes. The pain and humiliation of the detention was bad enough, but the fact that she was doing it all to herself was the near soul-destroying aspect of the ordeal she suffered each time she stepped inside room 17. She was forced to do it, not physically but through the obligation that came with training as a slut. She knew she had no choice.


"Time to begin the extra detention you requested. Step to station one."


The bells clamped to Sarah's nipples tinkled as an involuntary shiver of fear swept through her. She was truly scared of what was to come. She barely had the energy to complete the tortuous circuits during her scheduled hour of detention. She did not think she could make it around again. She was not scared so much by the pain but by the repercussions of failure. How would the headmistress react? What extra punishment would she receive? It had to be worse than the detention otherwise she would learn nothing. All this ran through her head in the seconds it took for her to reach the wooden post of the first station.


"During the first extra session you will ride the rail. Do so now," commanded the headmistress.


Sarah stepped up and over the post, before gingerly lowering herself down the small wooden steps onto the copper rail. She had moved back up on her toes the moment she had stepped onto the platform. This gave her little more than an inch of clearance between her pussylips and the smooth electrified rail. Sarah was not sure exactly how much room existed between her aching pussy and what felt like 10,000 volts of pure agony. She had obediently kept her eyes forward, focused on a random brick in the far wall. She would have loved to glance down, even for a second, to see how much room she had to move. Not knowing meant she could not afford to slacken her posture even the slightest amount.


"Middle of the rail," she was directed.


Sarah moved slowly to the middle of the copper pole. She could only take very short prancing steps, having to keep on her toes as much as possible. As she moved down the rail she realised that the headmistress had left her arms free and she was no longer attached to the track on the ceiling. She had no assistance whatsoever. If she lost concentration and overbalanced she was not sure what would happen exactly. One thing she did know was that she would feel pain, a great deal of pain.


"You were told to move to the middle," hissed Mrs Huffington Smythe.


Sarah could only guess as to the location of the middle point. She knew the headmistress would not be satisfied until her pussy rested exactly over the centre of the rail. She took two small hesitant steps forward, hoping she was close. The short break she had been allowed while she consumed the evil tasting yellow liquid, had given her muscles a chance to relax but already, after only a few minutes on her toes, her calves felt like overstretched rubber bands just waiting to snap.


"Step forward bitch, I said the middle of the rail."


A chill ran through Sarah as she stepped gingerly forward on her toes. How long would it take her to find the middle? What punishment would she receive if she earned her headmistress' displeasure.


"Back one step. Forward a small step. Finally," Mrs Huffington Smythe said with what Sarah felt was genuine exasperation. "Once your first extra session begins you are to keep those bells ringing. If the ringing stops, the time stops. Begin."


Once the session begins? Her body was already aching from the time it had taken to reach her position and the session had not begun! Sarah took a deep breath and began to shake her breasts from side to side. She tried to move as gently as she could, enough to make some noise but with the bare minimum of movement. She needed to focus everything she had on keeping her posture correct and maintaining an upright position. She was glad that her arms were no longer tied so tightly behind her back, allowing her breasts to sway move naturally. But the loss of the rope collar attaching her to the ceiling track was a problem. It may have restricted her breathing at times but she had used the small tugs as a guide to her balance. Now she was left to her own devices, standing straight would be much harder.


Sarah had no idea of the passage of time. Her entire world now consisted of keeping her balance and avoiding the agony of the copper rail between her legs. She lost track of the number of times she felt herself drift to one side or the other only to recover just in time. Her thighs quivered under the constant strain. The tired schoolgirl managed to keep her soft flesh away from the rail for all of six minutes.


Sarah screamed as she failed to correct a tiny loss of balance. Her body had drifted to the right, not helped by the constant wiggling of her shoulders to keep the bells in motion. Her left thigh brushed the copper rail sending a spike of pain lancing up her leg. Once her composure was lost it, the tiny failure set off a chain reaction. Her body lowered slightly as she stepped back to the left, putting her pussy in contact with the horizontal pole. The detention room echoed with her renewed screams as her cunt felt as if it had been pierced by a huge needle.


The naked teen bounced to her toes to escape the pain, almost leaving the ground. Her arms flew out from behind her back, flailing frantically to help with her balance. She looked down at the pole between her legs, sure that such pain had damaged the tender flesh of her thigh and pussy.


"Eyes front," screamed hrs Huffington Smythe, punctuating her command with a vicious stroke of the whip. The long, thin tail whipped around Sarah's middle sending a flash of fire across her unprotected belly. "Hands behind your back. Stand at attention you sloppy cunt."


Sarah drew in heaving breath after heaving breath, trying to regain the control she had fought so hard for. It took her more than a minute to calm down. Her breathing slowed and she was once again able to make out the details of the brick she had chosen as her point of focus. Her hands had flown behind her back, but only once she was again standing up straight. She had made the headmistress angry by her failure to maintain the most basic of positions but the pain as the electricity coursed through the most delicate parts of her body had overwhelmed all other considerations.


Tears ran freely down Sarah's cheeks. She would have sworn she was incapable of crying one more tear but her body, as she had quickly learnt during her time at Harkwood, was capable of a great deal more than she had ever imagined. Despite the pain and stress she was in, her pussy still resonated from the near orgasm she had experienced under the skilled hands of the headmistress as she drank her evening meal. She knew her thick white cream was still coating her pussy but she was sure she was no longer producing it.


With so much to think about, Sarah was amazed her thoughts had turned to her recent pleasure. She should be expending all her energy on standing straight, on keeping her posture correct and pleasing her superiors. Was that the kind of thinking that had led to her being here in the first place? She wasn't sure, after all she had been told that when she was standing at attention and had no other duties she should think about her body. She was as confused as ever and now was not the time to attempt to sort such things in her mind.


Her entire body was shivering. Despite being naked in the large room she was far from cold. Sweat coated every inch of bare flesh. The shivering was caused by the strain of the strict position, and not a little fear, the agony of the electric shock still fresh. Despite the initial shock only lasting a split-second the memory of the pain lingered in her pussy, the painless remnant an abiding fear of what was to come. She had to remember that the pain only came when she failed to keep to the correct position. As with almost everything that happened in room 17, the amount of pain she experienced was in her hands.


Sarah took slow, deep breaths and thought about her equipment, performing an inventory of her body. Her head was held high, her neck straight. She could feel it was not the optimal position and straightened her neck a little more, tilting her chin higher. Her shoulders were square and straight, working with her stomach muscles to keep her back ramrod straight despite the strain standing on her tiptoes was causing her. Her square shoulders allowed her breasts to sit naturally.


It was as she thought of her breasts that she realised the room was silent. She had been so focused on resuming the perfect attention position that she had forgotten one of the rules of the session. Sarah began to twist her shoulders, causing her breasts to bounce gently, sending the musical tinkling of the bells clamped to her nipples throughout the room. She cursed herself for being so stupid as the pain in her nipples increased dramatically. How long had it been since last the bells rang? She had no idea but it had to be at least five minutes. Because of her stupidity she had another five minutes to stand here, her pussy dangerously close to excruciating pain.


When she had first stepped on the rail she had doubted whether she could last 30 minutes without causing herself serious damage and additional punishment, but now she had extra time. How easy was it to just keep shaking your tits, she asked herself. Obviously too hard for a stupid bitch like you, she cursed. The headmistress had been right, as usual. She was stupid and had much to learn. She had already decided that it was best to forget everything she knew and relearn every aspect of her life, from the most simplest of tasks, like brushing her teeth or setting a table, to brand new aspects she had not encountered prior to starting her training; things like sucking cock and the positions of service. But now she had renewed conviction. It was evident that her teachers knew best and if they thought she was stupid then it was so. No wonder she had so many more infractions than any of her classmates.


As she continued to sway her breasts to keep the bells jingling, she resumed the inventory she had begun. She needed something to take her mind off the terrible thoughts that were running through her head. She had only got as far as her tits before her failure had so shocked her. Her belly at least was free of the terribly constricting belt of rope. It had made her take notice of each breath she took as she had moved around the circuit. Her pussy ached and yet the pleasure she had experienced during dinner had lingered deep inside her. It was equal parts frustration and satisfaction. She had desperately wanted to come but knew she should not. She had kept her pussy under control as a slut should though she wasn't so stupid that she believed she could have done so indefinitely.


She could feel the tender, striped mounds of her ass quiver as her legs shook under the strain. Her thighs burned, her calves burned. The arches of her feet ached and her toes were almost numb. What had she missed? Holes, she admonished. A slut's holes should be the first pieces of equipment that were checked. She was learning, slowly. And learning the hard way, Sarah thought, disappointed that she had to receive detention and displease her superiors, but thankful nonetheless for the chance to learn. She needed every chance she could get.


Holes, she reminded herself. Her mouth was closed and empty. Truly, she longed to be reunited with the nipple through which she consumed her evening meal. The feeling of contentment she felt with it safe and secure in her mouth was something she had never felt before. Everything had seemed right, everything had seemed as if it would be okay. No wonder slut's liked to have their holes filled. Her pussy was empty but wet and, as she knew she could not escape, ached and burned in equal measure. Her asshole was empty. Her asshole was an unknown quantity for the young schoolgirl. She had not yet received any training regarding it, all she could reflect on was the enemas she must perform each night before showering.


"Are you enjoying your time on the rail?"


The sudden noise startled Sarah. She moved slightly, the gentlest of wavers before she corrected herself. The slight movement had caused her to wince, anticipating the pain. She had caught herself in time and avoided the copper rail.


"No Ma'am, this slut is not enjoying her time on the rail," Sarah replied wearily.

"Your cunt tells a different story bitch. I can see your cuntcream oozing from you."


Sarah swallowed nervously, desperate to look down to see the evidence for herself. Not only was she worried that she was aroused without knowing it but she was afraid that her thick cream would hang from her sex and make contact with the rail. It took every shred of willpower and self-discipline she had to keep her eyes front. She blinked away the fresh tears, more scared now that she had ever been. Even if she kept a perfect posture, her pussy could let her down and cause her pain. She couldn't still be producing cream, it had to be left over from dinnertime. Her stance and the constant wiggling she was forced to perform to keep the bells moving must have caused the cream inside to come together and begin to hang from her. Now every moment was heavily laced with anxiety at the thought of electricity shooting up a dangling string of cuntcream, something over which she had no control. She sniffed her running nose and tried to block all thoughts but those devoted to keeping position.


Sarah attempted counting the seconds but after reaching somewhere around the 200 mark she was sure it meant nothing as she knew she had not been counting at correct intervals. She stopped and tried to let her mind go blank but she kept visualising a thick thread of white cream dangling from her pussylips, swinging gently as she kept her body moving.


"Session two is about to commence. Step back and drink," commanded the headmistress.


Sarah breathed an audible sigh of relief. She was finally to be free of the rail. Her pussy was going to be free from danger, at least for a short time. She was thankful for the chance to drink as well. Her mouth was dry and she was sweating a great deal.


Sarah had discovered, while attempting to find the middle of the rail, that stepping backwards was infinitely harder than moving forwards. She had to take smaller steps, and her forward steps were not that big to begin with. Each time she lifted a foot to move to her rear she knew she came dangerously close to the rail. It was on her second step that she lost her footing and came down heavily upon the copper rail. Her plump pussylips were mashed into the unforgiving surface of the pole, sending a constant stream of electricity coursing through her entire cunt.


Sarah threw her head back and screamed. She jumped off the pole only to lose her footing and once again come crashing down onto the smooth copper surface. She jerked and bounced her way off the rail, not stopping until her ass bumped against the square post of station one. The spluttering schoolgirl was sobbing uncontrollably as she scraped her body unceremoniously off the torturous device. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, throat raw from screaming. She did her best to stand at attention but she knew she must look a mess.


"Such a dramatic exit. You do like to create a spectacle. Before you drink, clean up the mess you left on the rail," Mrs Huffington Smythe commanded.


Sarah stepped back to the rail and quivered as she saw a thick blob of her cream sitting on the top of the horizontal pole. A long smear led back towards her, the evidence of her frenzied attempts to get her writhing body off the electrified metal. She hesitated for a brief moment as thoughts of the excruciating pain of electricity that was sure to render her unconscious when it struck her tongue. What choice did she have? The answer was, none. She would receive extra punishment, possibly extend, yet again, her time in the detention room, earn the displeasure of the headmistress and no doubt be forced to clean the rail eventually anyway.


She leaned down towards the copper bar, the bells hanging from her breasts tinkling as her body quivered in terror. The terrified schoolgirl took one, long deep breath, and stuck out her tongue and tentatively extended it towards the thick glob of cream that was ever so slowly sliding down the smooth side of the rail, expecting at any moment to be shocked into oblivion.


Sarah closed her eyes and made contact with the bar. She felt the familiar, pleasant taste of her cream tinged with a slight metallic aftertaste. She lifted her head in shock. There was no current in the rail. She had been shown a mercy she had not expected. She felt such gratitude towards the headmistress that it almost overwhelmed her. She nearly spoke out of turn and thanked her superior but she recovered her senses and instead continued to lick the smooth pole clean. Once clear of her discharge, Sarah stepped back, rolling her tongue around her mouth, savouring the flavour of her owner's pussy. 


"Hurry up and drink, your final session remains," Mrs Huffington Smythe said, staring intensely at the distressed teenager. She could see the glazed look in the girl's eyes and was confident she was temporarily bewildered by her ordeal.


The older, taller woman grabbed Sarah's ponytail and roughly frogmarched her to the wall, forcing the young girl to her knees. The instant her head was wrenched forwards by the force of the headmistress Sarah came to her senses and realised what had happened. She was mortified that she could have been so lax, disobeying an order and obviously displeasing a superior. She quickly forced her tired body into the correct kneeling position and awaited instruction.


Hung from the wall in front of her was the same container from which she had drunk her evening meal. This time the container was less than half full but the liquid was no longer yellow. It was dark, almost black, and Sarah had no idea what it could be.


Time passed and Sarah began to feel anxious. Her entire body became tense, the muscles in her belly constricting nervously. Why was she not being given permission to drink? She had been told to... Of course, Sarah almost spat at herself contemptuously. She had already been told to drink. Now she was just wasting time. Could her stupidity be forgiven? Should her stupidity be forgiven? She leaned forward and immediately took the nipple into her mouth and began to suckle.


Sarah  almost gagged on her first mouthful. The liquid was warm and tasted vile. The yellow liquid she was fed for dinner tasted bad, terribly bitter, but this was something much worse. She could not even pinpoint exactly what it was about the taste that made it so disgusting. Sarah swallowed the first tiny mouthful and started to suck with the rhythm she had developed during her first gym class. She tried to swallow as often as possible, getting the horrible liquid down her throat and out of her mouth as quickly as she could.


Despite the foul nature of the drink the familiar, and sought for, sense of contentment washed over her. The nipple sat comfortably in her mouth, resting on her undulating tongue. She had not expected to feel her headmistress' talented hands at her pussy but she moaned involuntarily at the first gentle touch of the latex clad fingers. The interlude was over all too quickly, as Sarah endeavoured to empty the container as fast as possible. She never even came close to orgasm and the pleasure she was gifted was all the more welcome for it.


The headmistress must have known the instant the young girl had finished as her hand was withdrawn the moment the last mouthful was swallowed. Sarah remained kneeling, the long rubber nipple filling her mouth, completely at ease. She knew she had another 30 minutes to endure but right now she was happy enough to stay right where she was.


"Attention," Mrs Huffington Smythe snapped.


Sarah stood up rapidly, the nipple dropping from her mouth as she rose. She spun around and faced the headmistress. Anxious as to what the next half an hour would entail.


"Look at my hand bitch," the headmistress said, thrusting her right hand towards Sarah. "Because of your disobedience it is covered in sweat. You will clean it. First you will clean your face, it is filthy. Collect a tissue from the box and come back."


Sarah moved quickly to her left and removed one tissue from a small box that sat amongst the paraphernalia atop the small cupboard against the far wall. She scurried back and stood in front of the headmistress, looking the stern woman in the eyes. She did not like what she saw there. The eyes were hard and cold and, despite knowing that the headmistress had, as her ultimate goal, the successful training of another slut, Sarah could not shake the feeling that causing pain was a goal in and of itself for the stern disciplinarian.


"Clean your face, you will be making contact with my suit and I want it clean of your filth."


Sarah reached up with her right hand, her left staying obediently behind her back. She had folded the tissue into a small square and proceeded to wipe first her red-rimmed eyes before removing the caked and semi-dried mucus from her nose and mouth. When she had finished she took a gamble and spoke out of turn, feeling that she should express her gratitude to a superior who had allowed her such a luxury.


"Thank you Ma'am for allowing this slut to clean her filthy face."

"Manners at last. Well that proves that no matter how dense the bitch there is always a capacity for learning. You may now dispose of that."

"Thank you Ma'am," Sarah replied obsequiously. She stood at attention, awaiting the instruction to dispose of the tissue in the nearest bin. The headmistress simply continued to look at her and Sarah became increasingly nervous as the seconds ticked away in silence.

"Apparently that capacity for learning, while present, is miniscule. Open your mouth," boomed Mrs Huffington Smythe.


Sarah opened her mouth, realising now what she had been so slow to comprehend. She had seen no bin in the room. Any mess she made she was expected to clean as only a slut should. The headmistress reached out and grabbed her right hand by the wrist. The latex-clad woman stepped in towards Sarah, pushing her wrist towards her mouth as she did so. Sarah acquiesced, allowing full control of her arm to the headmistress. Sarah stood, transfixed by the older woman's stern gaze, her mouth wide open to receive the sodden tissue. As her hand was manipulated to her mouth, the tissue being pushed well inside, she could not look away. She wanted to close her eyes as the slimy tissue came to rest on her tongue but she was caught by the stern gaze of the imposing woman.


The headmistress let go of her hand and stepped back. Sarah remained perfectly still, posed with her hand in her mouth, still holding the tissue. She felt like a puppet, more than ever she was hit by the fact that her life was no longer her own. She belonged to another, every aspect of her existence, even how her body was to move, was controlled by someone else.


"Hand behind your back. Eat. You spend far too much time idle. A word shall be had with your handler to ensure you learn the importance of time management."


Sarah felt an almost painful emptiness deep in her belly at Mrs Huffington Smythe's words. She was wasting time and now Miss Harper may get in trouble. She was instantly worried for the older girl, who had done so much to help train her. Sarah tried not to think of how disappointed her handler would be and chewed slowly on the mucus soaked tissue. Within moments it disintegrated, coating her tongue and mouth in tiny shredded fragments. The bland taste of the sticky substance from her nose mixed with the salty taste of her sweat to create something that almost had no flavour at all. It was infinitely better than the foul black liquid she had been forced to drink as a refreshment.


Sarah chewed until the tissue was mere sodden pulp in her mouth, then swallowed. Her eyes had not left those of the headmistress and she wondered if she was behaving correctly, not taking too much time. She could not read anything that was going on behind the piercing green eyes of the stern-faced woman. She was disgusted with herself and was sure it showed on her face. The feeling as the tissue fell apart in her mouth made her want to disappear completely from view. She had never done anything like this before. She had never even contemplated something so disgusting and yet, here she was degrading herself with no resistance whatsoever. She complied completely with the wishes of another, no matter how demeaning or how painful.


"Open. Wider. Tongue out. All gone? Lick your teeth. No, run your tongue across the outside of your teeth you silly little slattern. Lick your lips. Now clean the remainder of your mess from my glove."


The headmistress proffered her right hand and Sarah bent forward at the waist and licked the palm of the black-gloved hand. She then opened her mouth and gently took each of the headmistress' fingers into her mouth, closing her lips over them and sucking as if they were tiny black cocks. Once she had cleaned each finger, the hand was turned over and Sarah diligently licked the back of the hand. The black latex now glistening with a thin sheen of saliva, all evidence of her sweat successfully removed.


"Move that cunt onto the fourth dildo. The remaining session will begin once you are there," Mrs Huffington Smythe explained.


Sarah moved immediately to the dildo pole closest to station one, the thin metal shaft that topped by the five inch spiked dildo. She had practiced the mounting manoeuvre so often during her detention that she had the dildo firmly inside her in a matter of moments. Sarah grunted loudly with the familiar pain of the dildo ramming unceremoniously into her in one quick motion. Once mounted the young girl turned to face the headmistress, wincing as the blunt spikes scraped the delicate walls of her vagina.


"I think it best that you first have those clamps removed. We have no further use for them during this session. Front."


Sarah cringed as she was ordered off the dildo. The effort it had taken had been for nothing. She leaned forward with all her body weight, bent the dildo and jumped at the perfect moment. Sarah yelped as the stubby spikes scraped painfully against her sex as it exited. She did not know how much more punishment her pussy could take. Obviously it would take as much as the headmistress deemed necessary but she was worried about whether she could sustain a satisfactory behaviour for the last 30 minutes of the detention.


Sarah took three small steps towards the headmistress and stood at a strict attention, knowing that the removal of the clamps on her nipples would cause her great pain. She could not express how grateful she was to finally have them removed, as they had been a constant source of agony for almost two hours. She knew from her limited experience with clamps and pegs, that their removal was just as painful as their presence.


Without preamble Mrs Huffington Smythe slipped the clamp from her left nipple. Sarah doubled over in pain, her mouth opened wide in silent agony. It took three seconds before a piercing scream filled the room. The tortured schoolgirl screamed again and again as the pain coursed through her breast in waves, crashing upon the delicate, distended nipple of her left breast. All other thoughts and all other sensations were swept from the abused teenagers head. There was no room for anything but the agony in her nipple.


Sarah had lost track of time but she somehow found herself standing at attention, intense pain still coursing through her chest. She had felt nothing like it. How could there be so many different kinds of pain? As a slut she knew she would be introduced to them all but she was confident she could never come to enjoy it. It would teach her to be a better slut but she was confident that she simply did not have it in her to be one of the painsluts she had been taught about.


Sarah knew what awaited her and she quivered in fear as the headmistress reached for the nipple clamped intently on her right nipple. She drew in a deep breath and held it. The breath exploded from her in a resounding scream as the pain hit her like a physical blow to the chest. She hunched her shoulders for but a moment before quickly resuming her position. Her upper body heaved as she drew in each deep breath, trying her best to deal with the unimaginable pain.


"Back to position, you have wasted quite enough time," admonished the headmistress.


Sarah stepped gingerly back to the spiked dildo. She desperately wanted to touch her nipples, or at the very least, to touch the flesh of her tender breast that surrounded her tiny pink buds. The intense, biting pain had subsided, only to be replaced by a powerful ache that filled each breast. She had to forget her body and focus on her task. She swiftly mounted the dildo once again, turning to face the headmistress, hoping that this last session would be over in 30 minutes. Of course the duration, and outcome, of the session was up to her.


"The final session will be a reinforcement of the importance of focus. The session will continue as long as the task at hand is being performed at a satisfactory level. During this session you will highstep continuously. Your knee will raise to the level of your cunt. Each failed step will halt the clock for ten seconds. At the twentieth step of your right leg, you will turn 90 degrees clockwise and continue. This session will be completed in silence. Each noise made will halt the clock for ten seconds. Begin."


Sarah had stared forward, her resignation growing with each word the headmistress spoke. She was familiar with highstepping, as she had been forced to perform it on several occasions. It was not the easiest thing to do but with a thick, spiked dildo filling her pussy it was going to be a definite struggle. She needed to focus to keep the session to its nominated length. She felt she might just be able to last 30 minutes, of course she had no idea how painful it was going to be but adding extra time for failure was going to cost her dearly.


Sarah lifted first her right and then her left leg, bringing her knee high with every step. The prancing movement caused the dildo inside her to shift, each movement causing the delicate pink walls of her pussy to be ruthlessly prodded. She clenched her hands and grit her teeth determined not to make the slightest of sounds. The trembling schoolgirl quickly realised what a true relief it was to be able to deal with some of the built up pain by making the most simplest of noises. She had never before thought about how much the moans, groans and other pain-induced sounds meant. They were a primal release. A release that was now denied her.


Sarah realised that despite the revelation made she had lost count of her steps. Had she stepped twenty times? Was it more? Less? Where had she been at last count? Sixteen? She was bound to be over the twenty, the clock must have stopped. She cursed herself for the stupid cunt that she was. It was evident that she needed to be here. She had been told this was a test of her focus and she had failed within the first twenty steps.


She lowered her leg to the ground and swivelled her body 90 degrees to her right. To make sure that her turn was accurate she swivelled her hips in one smooth motion, the rest of her body following. Her pussy felt as if it was being scratched terribly, though she knew the spikes were blunt and could not possibly be causing any great damage. She immediately began highstepping again, knee cunt-high, left then right. She blocked out everything but the count of her steps.


Twenty, turn. Twenty, turn. With each turn she found a new spot on the far wall to focus on. It was not easy to keep her eyes forward, but she knew that being a slut was not easy. That is why it was so rewarding, she told herself, repeating a lesson learnt on her first day. Not only did she have to remember to hold her head high, eyes open and forward but the constant distractions provided by her peripheral vision, real or imagined, preyed constantly on her control.


Twenty, turn. She was now back to her starting position, facing the front of the room. The headmistress was nowhere to be seen. She moved so like a cat Sarah thought, not only with feline grace but without the barest of sound. She knew she was still being watched, she could feel the hard eyes of the headmistress upon her, scrutinising and judging every move she made. What else was she doing? Did she still have the whip that had been used so liberally during her detention? She had not felt the lash for some time, though she was experiencing enough pain without the added distraction of correction.


The pain in her nipples had finally begun to subside, though the almost obsessive need to touch her breasts had grown as the pain lessened. Inexplicably, she became aware that the sensations in her pussy had changed. There was no longer simply the dull pain as the spikes dug into her delicate folds. She was acutely aware that the constant movement of the dildo inside her was causing her most unwanted arousal. She was soon positive that her pussy was secreting her special brand of thick white cream. It was not because of the pain she told herself, in was despite it. Yes she was in pain but her pussy, as was only to be expected of a slut, was working on its own level.


Twenty and turn. She was keeping her mind straight, focusing on the task she had been set. Not only did her arousal surprise her but the fact that she blushed at the thought of the headmistress noticing her arousal, at a time when her mind should be only on one thing, caused her no little distress. She wasn't meaning to be aroused, she was a slut and she could not control her pussy, her owner's pussy she quickly corrected. Sarah was sure that Mrs Huffington Smythe knew she was creaming, it was now even more important that each step was high enough, and was counted properly. She could not have the headmistress assuming she was thinking with her pussy again. 


Twenty and turn. Her legs were starting to ache and she had to concentrate her entire being on lifting each knee to cunt height. Her energy was beginning to flag, she had almost nothing left and she wanted this detention to end. She needed this detention to end. She did her best to ignore the pain and the pleasure coming from her pussy. She could not afford to focus on either sensation. She was in no danger of having an orgasm, the arousal the dildo was causing had plateaued well below what she now knew shee needed for climax. She was breathing a little heavier, and her nipples hardened, bringing her further pain, but she had reached the levels that masturbation had brought her to prior to beginning her training at Harkwood. She had never experienced a true orgasm at her own hands. She knew that the constant state of arousal was enough to keep her highly frustrated and she would remain so for hours after the stimulation ended.


Twenty and turn. How much longer did she have left? Sarah had no way of telling how much time remained, or how many times the clock had been stopped due to poor posture. A flicker of movement to her left almost caused the exhausted schoolgirl to turn her head. She redoubled her efforts to keep her knees high, conscious that she was beginning to falter and any small distraction could cost her time.


Left knee high, right knee high. Her pussy, wrapped tightly around the studded dildo, pulsed as her weight shifted with each lift. The entire length of the dildo was set firmly inside her. When she had first impaled herself on the shaft, she had felt the coolness of the metal pole beneath as her plump pussylips had rested against it. She did not need any extra evidence but she could now feel the sticky slickness of her cream running down the pole and rubbing onto her thighs as she pranced on the spot.


As she turned again, the movement now smooth and natural, she tried to visualise what she looked like as she high-stepped. She was held in place by the long dildo topped pole, unable to move forward or back more than an inch without causing the blunt spikes from painfully scraping the walls of her pussy. She must look quite comical, prancing on the spot, her head held high, eyes focused intently forward.


The need to massage her nipples rushed over her again. Her hands were unrestrained, resting obediently in the small of her back. In a way it might have been easier to have had them tied, the temptation to break position would not have been as great. To the casual observer it would appear as if she was simply standing over the metal pole, using it as a marker to keep on the spot as she pranced. No one could know that a spiked dildo penetrated deeply inside her. As Sarah swivelled her body to face the back wall a most welcome sound reached her ears. She had remained silent, as directed, for at least 30 minutes.


"Cease. Dismount and front," commanded Mrs Huffington Smyte from behind her.


She felt a tiny flush of pride, before she quickly caught herself. She had performed as she had been expected to. A slut should not feel pride in the simple conduct of her duties. She had much to learn she knew and she was determined to do so. The young girl quickly dismounted from the pole, the spiked dildo slipping violently from her slick vagina. Despite her pussy being tenderised by two hours of abuse, it was the easiest dismount she had yet achieved, due no doubt to the copious amounts of lubrication she had deposited along its length. In two, wobbly steps Sarah found herself before the headmistress.


The quivering schoolgirl was a mess: covered in sweat, her hair lank and plastered to her face and neck, her face red, eyes swollen, her knees bouncing involuntarily. As she looked at the headmistress, the beautiful woman was still immaculate in appearance. There could not have been a more pronounced difference between naked, dishevelled teenager and the latex-suited woman of statuesque composure. It did not help that Sarahs diminutive stature meant that her head only reached the shoulders of the headmistress.


"You have a mess to rectify. A slut never leaves an unclean surface and that surface is far from clean. Hurry up," boomed Mrs Huffington Smythe.


Sarah scurried back to the pole and began furiously licking the metal shaft. She started on the metal pole below the dildo as her cream had run almost six inches down its length. The familiar taste calmed her somewhat and she proceeded to clean the dildo without reservation. It was more difficult than cleaning an ordinary smooth shaft. The blunt spikes forced Sarah to use only her tongue, flicking it over and between the stubby protrusions.


The naked schoolgirl shuffled slowly around the pole, keeping her body bent at the waist at all times. After completing a full circuit, Sarah straightened up and took one last look at the black dildo. It glistened in the harsh light but it was purely from her cleaning. It would dry in moments. Sarah felt a definite sense of satisfaction at a job well done. This was not pride, it was deriving pleasure from service which she had been taught was a natural emotion for a slut. She smiled, gratified that her training was progressing.


"As pleasurable as the taste of your cunt is, I don't believe I can recall the last time I saw a slut smiling in this room. Is it a sign of your obvious low intelligence? Maybe it is simply symptomatic of the behaviour which has led you into this predicament. No matter, a question that can be answered at another time. Right now, you are to dress and wait in your holding cell for collection. Due to your request for two extensions your handler is currently unavailable."


Sarah went immediately to the hook by the door, from which hung the small linen bag containing her uniform. It felt like an eternity since she had been clothed. Her shoes caused substantial pain as she slipped her feet in and buckled the straps. It did not last long and by the time she was adjusting her breasts into the half-cups of her bra she was actually feeling safe and secure in her four inch heels. As she clipped the small tie onto her collar she turned to face the headmistress, fully clothed for the first time in since entering room 17, what felt like days ago. Standing before the imposing figure of Mrs Huffington Smythe, her meagre uniform did not supply her with the usual level of security she had come to expect.


"Thank you for training this slut Ma'am," Sarah said respectfully, curtsying daintily as she finished. She turned and opened the door.


As she stepped through she heard Mrs Huffington Smythe's parting words, sending a shiver down her spine. "See you tomorrow." The words echoed through her brain as she walked down the corridor to her holding cell.


Review This Story || Author: Garmonbozia
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