Flogger, breasts and nipples| Schoolgirls bound | pillory punishment bdsm stories

The Chastisement of Justine for the Pleasure of the Board of Directors

"Come in,” Michael commanded.

He looked up as the door opened, pleasantly surprised to see Meredith. “Good morning, Chancellor."

"It's Meredith, Michael. No need to be so formal when we aren't in front of the students.” She smiled at him.

He watched as she walked over to the chair in front of his desk, his eyes gazed down at her legs as she crossed them, her short skirt rode higher on those gorgeous thighs, a quick glimpse between her legs making his cock hard. “So good to see you, Meredith. What I can do for you, today?"

"Not for me, for the Board of Directors."

"Anything in particular? Not that I don't already suspect what they would like."

"I have told the Board of the good things I have heard about you around campus the last couple of days."

"And what have you heard, Meredith? Only the truth, I hope."

"I heard that you have already punished one of the students. A Mary Bridget, to be specific.

From what I hear, she has had trouble sitting since. Rumor has it that she was caned. Care to confirm or deny?” She smiled, uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again, slowly so that his eyes followed her every movement.

His cock throbbed in his pants. “Mary Bridget, yes a very errant young woman. I brought her into my office the first day for her poor grades. I gave her a sound spanking. It seems it didn't do much good, as the next day I had her back after learning that she had been inattentive in class. I thought that she needed a more severe punishment. The caning apparently worked wonders on her disposition; it only took four strokes to convince her of the error of her ways."

"Over her panties,” Meredith shot back.

Michael smiled, “The first two. The last two were with her panties off, her naked ass cheeks bearing the brunt. She did a very enjoyable dance for my benefit."

"I imagine she did,” her mind pictured Mary Bridget bent over, naked, her legs dancing, giving Michael a very intimate glimpse of her naked sex. “Was she grateful when you were finished?"

"Actually, it was rather funny. The first day I even helped her out, masturbating her until she came in front of me. The girl turned beat red when she came, but she soaked my hand as she shook with her release. The next day, I made her perform for me, showing me her naked body in a variety of very compromising and revealing positions. Even had a chance to feel how tight her asshole was. She was very cooperative,” he explained.

"And you? Did she do anything to help you out? I'm sure your cock must have been very hard after punishing such a delightful little body for two days."

"Now that you mention it, I thought I might have to call you,” laughed as he said it. “But I decided that Mary Bridget should do it since she was the cause of my hard cock. So I took her mouth while I masturbated her pussy with my cane. It had special little rubber bands around it, raised bands. I tied her legs together and let the cane saw up and down that sensitive little slit while I face fucked her. We both had such an enjoyable climax; Mary Bridget swallowed all of my cum while she came again for me. She has a very lovely body and could be trained very easily to please anyone. She will do anything to avoid punishment, though that does take some of the joy out of it."

"You know you made my panties soaked with that story, don't you Michael? I think you enjoy doing that."

"I love to make any girl wet, Meredith. Now, what would the Board like?"

"Once I told them about Mary Bridget they were as excited as I was. As I told you when I hired you, the Board is very interested in corporal punishment. They would like to observe you putting one of the girls through her paces. In the special punishment room, so they can observe through the two-way mirror.” She knew the grin on his face was proof he would love to display his prowess to the Board; almost as much as he would enjoy punishing the girl.

"I'm sure that I can find someone that would provide suitable enjoyment for the Board. Anything special they might like?"

"They want a very severe punishment. They prefer to start on Thursday. With it being a holiday weekend, should it be necessary for the unfortunate girl to spend a few days in the infirmary she would be in better shape by Monday.” Meredith could more than imagine how his cock jerked in his pants at the thought.

"How severe?"

"We have such lovely antique bondage equipment, many dating back to when corporal punishment was legal. The Board would like to see her bound in some, slowly stripped naked, and you using some of the more painful devices and equipment on the more delicate and sensitive parts of her body. They enjoy the screams of the girls."

Michael was pleased with their request. “And, sexually?"

"Why of course, they would enjoy seeing her sexually molested. Especially, forced masturbation.

And if she was a virgin in any of her holes, they would love to see her lose them to your cock.

I'm sure there are ways you can make her perform for you sexually. Pain is such a motivator, especially for such impressionable girls."

"Tell the Board I'd love to bring in one of the girls to put on a show for them, put her through her paces. Thursday after class would be fine; the school would almost be empty. I haven't seen all of the equipment you speak of, but I'm sure that I can make good use of most of it. I think I would like to work on her Thursday night, but keep her bound after that for the remainder of the night. Then, she will be fresh on Friday for some further punishment. And of course she would be available to me again to take sexually. I am a big fan of anal sex and find that girls tend to really hate it the first couple of times” he chuckled. “Their screams are priceless as they feel a large cock forced up their ass for the first time."

"Do you have anyone in mind for the punishment?” Meredith's mind quickly clicked off the names of some of the girls she'd have chosen.

"I'm sure you know of Justine. I've read her file and noticed that she has had some lack of attention problems lately. She's one of the scholarship girls and we have her mother's permission for corporal punishment, though I doubt she neither told Justine nor even suspected what we might do to her daughter. I have not seen her; can you tell me what she looks like?

"A lovely girl, very quiet, no self confidence. She has average size breasts, nice full hips and such a well developed and shapely ass. She'd make a perfect candidate for punishment. And yes, she has had some problems with paying attention in class and I'm sure that I can convince one of her Professors to send her to your office for some infraction. Oh, yes, I almost forgot,” Meredith smiled, “she has this perfect set of lips. Lips that I'm sure you can put to good use. I don't think she is a virgin, but I doubt she has much experience. I'm sure she is an anal virgin, a fact that you would enjoy rectifying."

"Settled. Then it's Justine on Thursday. Make sure she's in my office by three o'clock. That will give us some time to get acquainted before I bring her to the punishment room. I think three-thirty would give me sufficient time.

It was almost the weekend, a three-day weekend that would begin tomorrow. She didn't have any special plans; it would just be nice not to have school for three days. Justine sat in the back of the class and listened to them talk.

"Have you seen him, Ashley? He may be older, but he sure looks good to me. I'd love to feel those hands on my body,” Brandy boasted to her friend.

"I hear that he's punishing students,” Ashley added. “Someone said that he caned a girl for not paying attention in class!"

"Caned her? You mean with a cane, a real live cane like they used in England?"

"Yes. I guess he was a Headmaster in England before coming here. Rumor has it that he lost his job over a punishment he inflicted on some girl; seems he still believes in corporal punishment."

Justine leaned closer, not wanting to miss what they were saying. She had heard the same stories, wondering if they were true. While very intelligent, Justine was very meek, not wanting to offend anyone, not wanting to attract attention. She knew most of the answers that the Professors asked, but never raised her hand. Even when she was called on, her mind went blank; leading the Professors to think she didn't know it. She had high SAT tests, yet her college applications were void of extra-curricular activities or any glowing recommendations, making most colleges dismiss her. Her mother, divorced and uneducated, wasn't much help. If it weren't for a high school teacher helping her fill out the application for a scholarship to Hollister, she would probably be serving burgers at McDonald's now. She was one of the scholarship students, which Justine didn't know required that her mother signed over her permission for corporal punishment.

Nor did she tell Justine of her decision, assuming it would never be an issue with her good little girl. Little did either of them know that the high school teacher was paid by Hollister to encourage Justine to apply, her background check having shown that she was very submissive and would respond well to corporal punishment.

"God, my pussy is wet just thinking about that,” Brandy responded.

"You mean you would like him to cane you?” Ashley surprised at her best friend's admission.

"No silly, but I sure would like to be draped over his lap and spanked like a naughty little girl.

That would be so hot. Imagine him slipping your panties down and spanking your naked ass?

God, I would cum all over him."

"You're such a slut, Brandy,” Ashley's shock apparent.

"Come on now, Ashley. I just love strong men, even older men. Boy, I'd love to see what he would do to my body. Not like those silly boys that just want to fuck me for two minutes then roll over. Tell me you wouldn't want to be taken by him!"

"Okay, yeah, maybe. But to be spanked? That turns you on? The pain?"

"If he made me cum I'd let him do anything to me. It's different when you're horny; the pain is almost as good as the pleasure."

"I guess. I do like it when boys twist my nipples. My pussy creams my panties. But he is so much older."

"Yeah, but older men really know what turns you on. They know exactly how to play your body.

I bet he could keep me aroused for hours. God, I could masturbate right here thinking about it."

"You're always horny, Brandy,” Ashley laughed at her best friend.

"Tell you what, Ashley. Let's go find out if Headmaster Michael is the real deal."

"What do you mean?"

"I bet we can get Professor Doyle to send us to the Headmaster. The old fart hates me, but is always trying to look down by top. Want to see if the Headmaster will really punish us?"

"Are you kidding? Ashley looked at her strangely.

"I dare you, double dare you,” Brandy taunted her.

"OK, I'll do it. He'll probably just lecture us and make us stay after class."

"Monday, we'll do it Monday. I have a date Friday, wouldn't want to get my ass spanked and have a boy see it."

"Heh, it isn't going to happen, but I'm with you. Let's see how good Headmaster Michael really is."

Justine couldn't believe that someone would actually do a thing like that; to deliberately try to get into trouble in order to get the Headmaster to punish them.

"Justine. Justine!” Professor Ralston's voice rose.

Justine looked up, startled to hear her name being screamed out. She was so intent on listening to Ashley and Brandy that she had blocked out everything else. Her face turned red, all attention now on her as Professor Ralston screamed out her name. “Yes, Sir,” she stammered.

"I asked you a question, Justine. What are you doing? Sleeping in class?” The room broke out in laughter; Justine was embarrassed as everyone looked at her, even Ashley and Brandy.

"Sorry, Sir. What was the question?” God, no, don't ask me a question

"I have asked it twice already, Justine. Maybe Brandy knows the answer. You obviously are not paying attention.” He waited as Brandy answered the question promptly. “Very good, Brandy.

See? Even Brandy knew the answer.” The Professor always put her down, even when she was correct. “Justine, see me after class!"

Professor Ralston always seemed to pick on her, Justine thought. Especially this week. It had started on Tuesday when he lectured her about being late. Hell, it was only about thirty seconds after the bell. Then yesterday he passed back the homework, a big fat C in red covered the top of hers. It wasn't as if she got all A's, but a C? She hadn't gotten one since junior high. She tried to talk to him after class, but the line to see him had been long, perhaps others received the same low grade that she had. I'll do better on the next one. I just need this long weekend to catch up.

It had been her last class before the three-day weekend, now he would delay her with a silly lecture. The room emptied quickly, the other students eager to leave. Justine was staying on campus, most of the other students-the ones with money-went away for the long weekend, the beach, home, anywhere but here. At least she would have some peace and quiet; her roommate had left after lunch.

"I'm sorry, Professor Ralston,” she blurted out before he even looked up from his desk. “It must be the three-day weekend, my brain seems to have gone on vacation early,” she tried to make light of the issue.

"Excuse me, Justine. Were you talking to me?” Professor Ralston looked up from the pile of papers on his desk.

"Nothing, Sir. You asked to see me,” not able to repeat what she said, tongue tied again.

"Yes, Justine. The past couple of weeks, I have had to speak to you in class over numerous issues, from being late or inattentive in class to general poor academic quality. And today you seem to have been in outer space. This is not an acceptable behavior for a young lady from Hollister."

"Yes, Sir. I'll do better."

"I wish I could believe that, but I don't feel that I am reaching you. So I am sending you to see Headmaster Michael."

She looked up at him; her eyes wide open in fear. “No, please don't. I'll get better,” her big eyes begged for a second chance.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I have already spoken to the Headmaster about your situation. He's expecting you in his office at three o'clock today. And I would make sure you are prompt, not like you are with me."

Justine looked at her watch, two forty-five. “Couldn't it wait for Monday, Sir? It's the three-day weekend."

"Would you like to tell the Headmaster that you can't find the time to meet with him and that he will have to wait until Monday? I don't know what's wrong with you, Justine, but I hope the Headmaster can instill a little discipline in you! Now get out of my sight and into the Headmaster's office before he punishes you for being late."

Justine gathered up her books and ran out of the room. Punish her? Were the rumors true? Does he physically punish girls? No one does that anymore. He is probably just going to lecture me as the last Headmaster did. And, maybe a little detention. She would be out of his office by four, looking forward to a three-day weekend of relaxing. She walked slowly, dreaded the confrontation. Justine wasn't comfortable with other people, especially authoritative ones. His office was only around the corner and she had fifteen minutes to get there.

She paused at his door, caught her breath, and smoothed her skirt down over her hips. She continued to hold her breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in,” came the booming voice behind the door.

She slowly turned the door knob; the large ornate wooden door creaked ominously as she pushed it open. Headmaster Michael was behind the desk, dressed in a white cable knit sweater, the fall weather gave a bit of a chill to the air. His sandy blond hair hung down on his forehead, a five o'clock shadow already appeared on his face. He had a rugged face, sculptured features. He looked to be in his mid-forties, hard to tell the age of older men. Brandy was right; he did have a handsome face. He had not looked up as she walked toward his desk. She glanced at the clock that ticked away on the credenza, an antique that counted time noisily. It rang once, three fifteen.

Three fifteen? She looked down at her watch. It said two fifty five, not three fifteen!

She looked over at him, he stared at her.

"The same thing I noticed, Justine. You were to be here at three o'clock. Not three o’ one, or three o’ two. And definitely not three fifteen."

His face clearly displayed his anger. She stammered, “My watch says it's not even three yet."

"Are you saying my grandfather's prize clock is fast?” he shot back, his voice raised in anger.

She couldn't say anything, tongue tied, her head hung down.

"Just as I thought, Justine. No respect for authority. Sit down!"

She quickly sat down; the meeting went from bad to worse.

"Look at me when I talk to you,” his voice gruff and angry.

"Yes, Sir,” she stared into his eyes; saw the anger there.

"You seem to lack any basic discipline, Justine. The reports I've heard from some of your Professors are nothing compared to the insolence I see for myself.” He looked at the clock, almost three thirty, the Board would already be there, waiting, making sure they wouldn't miss a thing. “I think you need some lessons to help you remember. Get up and come with me. Quickly now,” not giving her a chance to even think about defying him. “Leave your books and purse here and take off your jacket, you won't need them. You can get them later when I am finished with you."

"Where are we going, Headmaster Michael?” She was afraid. Could the rumors be true?

"I haven't got time for you to question my every single move. I expect complete obedience from you. Anything else will bring about punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir.” Headmaster Michael led her toward the door on the opposite wall, opened it and pushed her through. On the other side was a large room, dark except for a small light in the corner that barely lit the walls.

"Stand in the center of the room."

She stood, trembled in fear, the room made more ominous by its darkness, the dim bulb barely lighting strange-shaped objects covered in some thick material. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the far wall, so large it took up almost the entire area. She heard a click and then the room was bathed in the brightness of ceiling lights. Another click and a spotlight shone down on her from above. She looked up, barely making out another covered object directly over her head.

Headmaster Michael moved toward her, her mouth moved, then she quickly remembered his instructions-and his threat.

"You know why you are here, Justine?” He was only inches from her, his hot breath on her face.

She didn't know whether to respond or not, fearing the threat of punishment. She thought for a moment. “To be taught a lesson,” remembering his words.

"That's the first thing you've gotten right. Let's see if you can cooperate.” He picked up the rope hanging down from the object above her, pulled on it, grabbed the heavy cloth that covered it as it slid off, letting it fall to the floor before kicking it over to the side. He saw her looking up in fright as he slowly lowered the object. He knew she wanted to say something, to protest, to ask what it was, anything but silence, but she already feared him. That was good.

She had seen something like this in the history books, during the Puritan times. It looked like a pillory: a large wooden plank with a hole in the center and two smaller ones on the sides. It was connected to the ceiling by two heavy iron chains, one on each end, the plank divided in half, one end hinged, the other had a hasp and a heavy iron lock.

Michael smiled when he saw it. It was even better than he had expected. Most pillories had the arms and neck along side each other. This one had the arm holes up higher, almost a foot higher.

It was built for a female. With the arms raised higher, it left her breasts completely unprotected and a clear target. Target for a whip, a tawse or even a paddle. The person doing the whipping would be able to get a good clean swing, able to put more power behind each blow without worrying about hitting her arms instead.

Justine watched it move down from the ceiling, clanking as it moved until it was behind her back.

"Stay there!” He ordered her when she started to move out of the way.

"Please, what are you going to do?” She couldn't keep quiet any longer, fear overtaking her emotions. Most of the students had gone, she was alone with him, and no one expected her for days.

He moved close to her, his face only inches from hers. He put one hand on her hip, felt her flinch from his touch, his hand insistent, pressed deeper into her side, his large hand easily able to grip her slim waist. He moved his other hand to the back of her hair, grabbed a handful of it and yanked her head back hard. Her eyes opened wide in pain, tears formed. “Shhhh, Justine. No one can hear you in here. It's just you and me for the next two days.” He looked into her tear-stained face, her look of fear made his cock hard. “I'm going to teach you how to obey. When I worked in England, I found that corporal punishment works exceedingly well. You know what corporal punishment is, Justine?” He smiled.

"You mean like spanking?” she sobbed.

"That's only the beginning, Justine. Only the beginning. Now raise up your hands,” he commanded her. “Now, Justine! Raise them up, now!"

He moved behind her. “Stare straight ahead at the mirror.” He opened the pillory device and let one end swing open and out of the way. He moved the other larger piece toward her, adjusting the height the closer he got to Justine. “Hold still while I get this adjusted correctly."

She watched him in the mirror, the wooden pillory moved closer and closer. Would he really put her neck and arms in it? Maybe he was just trying to scare her. Put her in and then, after a few minutes of lecturing her, would let her go. No one would actually do more than that.

Michael swung the pillory closer to her, pushed it until it hit the back of her neck, and noted with pleasure the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. He gripped her waist tighter as he moved it closer, snuggled tight against the back of her neck. “Push your wrists back until they hit the wood,” he made his voice as authoritative as possible, forced her compliance, once he had her bound he would be free to explore her body at will.

She shivered in fear, the heavy wood banged against her neck, afraid of him, her wrists followed, the heavy wood massive against her tiny arms and neck. “Please don't do this to me,” she begged, tears formed in her eyes, afraid of the fate ahead of her.

He moved in front of her, pleased at how she looked. She was dressed in the school outfit; the dark blue sweater seemed to cling to her breasts. With her arms raised they pushed up higher, the tips pointed to the ceiling. Her blue plaid skirt clung to her shapely hips and molded over her tight butt, the blue knee socks highlighted the wide expanse of pink flesh between her knees and where the short skirt barely hid her treasures from his view. He swung the heavy wooden pillory in front of her, slowed down when he got close to her first wrist. “Hold still so I don't pinch your skin. This is very heavy and I don't want to hurt you with it.” He watched her freeze, her arms trembled as he touched her wrist, made sure it was in place, moved the pillory tighter, the wood now in front of her face. He raised her chin into the air. “Hold your head up,” her view cut short, the unknown terrifying to the teenager. He noticed the lining of the neck hole, hard rubber, a small inflatable bulb nearby. Not an antique invention, someone had modified it with newer technologies. Once the neck was inserted and the pillory locked, a few small pumps of the bulb would inflate the industrial strength balloon around the neck, acting both as a cushion to the sensitive throat and larynx but also allow for varying neck sizes-especially for the small female neck-able to tighten and constrict against it. If pumped up too much, it would be possible to cut off or severely limit the supply of air to the victim.

She gulped as the wood began to enclose her neck, the smell of the wood permeated her nose as it moved closer. She felt her other wrist enclosed, and began to panic as Headmaster Michael clamped the pillory stocks together, a loud clang as the iron lock was snapped shut. She panicked and tried to jerk her hands free, the wood pillory doing its job, her wrists trapped tightly between them.

"Settle down now, Justine. You can't get out; relax and get use to it. You're going to be in for a while. I'm going to tighten the band around your neck. Now don't panic.” He grabbed the bulb in his hand, made sure it was in front of her face, he wanted to see the panic in her eyes.

"Please, Sir. It's already tight enough,” Justine begged, though it was fairly loose, she was afraid of what he was capable of. She heard the whoosh as he pumped the bulb, felt the rubber collar instantly inflate, tighten on her neck. Her eyes bulged as he continued to pump the bulb, the rubber collar tightened in bursts as if it were pulsating. The collar cut deep into her neck, her breathing constrained, panic set in. Would he cut off her air; could he be that cruel?

Her face turned from a pretty pink to white, another pump on the bulb tightened more, her complexion went to a blue as she began to slowly asphyxiate. He released a small amount of air, not wanting her to pass out; just wanting her to feel the control he had over her body. “In case you decide to refuse me,” he pumped again, saw the panic in her face as it constrained her neck tightly again. He paused, let it sink in then released some air, the collar loosened but still wrapped tightly around her neck. “Just in case you forget how much control I have over your body, Justine."

She let her body relax, her upper body now restrained tightly, her arms bound in the pillory, she gulped, tried to get use to the tight collar around her neck. Breathe deeply, Justine thought to herself.

"Let's get you a little stretched out, Justine, I want to see that lovely little body of yours,” as he pulled on the chain, the pillory slowly rose, pulling not only her arms up higher, but at the same time her neck. She squirmed, her feet danced back and forth as her body stretched, her neck yanked upward as a chiropractor would do. “You're going to have to get on your tiptoes for me, Justine; I want your body tall and lean. Let the muscles in your legs extend, give them such a lean look. I like that in a girl."

She rose on her toes-the tight collar pulled her up by her neck-to try to relieve some of the strain.

She got off the balls of her feet, Headmaster Michael still pulled the pillory up; balanced on her toes, not sure how long she would be able to do this, her toes already ached. If she stayed this way too long, her feet would begin to cramp; she was afraid she would hang herself.

Meredith watched the three men in the room stare intently through the window. They were all in the early sixties, well dressed, educated, and very wealthy Southern gentlemen. If people only knew of the perversions they loved to inflict on the young college girls-but maybe they already did know. The Southern aristocracy was always tight lipped, glossing over shortcomings that carried from generation to generation. Hollister School for Girls was established by the grandparents of these and other men like them, a place where troubled girls from wealthy families could be re-trained and accepted into elite southern universities. The dark side, the scholarship girls provided a ready supply of nubile, impressionable girls who could be trained to perform the unspeakable acts that were required of them, a tradeoff they or their parents made for a chance at a life that would normally be beyond their grasp.

She looked through the window; Michael enjoyed himself with Justine, her expression not nearly as excited as his. Her body stretched tall, her long legs taut, balanced precariously on her toes as she slowly swung, Michael pleased at the way she was presented. Her face showed the strain as she was literally being stretched by her neck. “He does well in presenting her, doesn't he?” she asked the others.

"Such a lovely girl. I can't wait until he gets her naked,” Doctor Lenox responded.

"He takes his time. It's much more humiliating to slowly strip them, force them into very degrading positions that highlight their naked bodies, more especially for inexperienced girls like Justine."

He moved toward her, whispered in her ear, so those behind the mirror couldn't hear. “Your body looks so lovely, Justine. I'm going to enjoy you very much.” He moved away for a minute, a rope came down from the ceiling, a strap hung from it. “Now be a good girl and raise your leg up. I want to secure it with this strap. I want to see under that pretty skirt of yours.” He waited; she would not willingly do this. He tugged on the rope supporting the pillory, Justine suddenly jolted upward, the wooden pillory pulled tight around her neck, her chin pointed upward, her toes pulled from the floor. She began to turn white, her eyes bulged out. “Are you going to obey, Justine, or must we always play this silly game?"

She felt him release the tension on the rope, the pillory once again lowered, but still balanced on her toes. It felt like her jaw was going to break, the wood unyielding, her jaw the only thing that would give. She let one foot move out, difficult to do while standing on only one foot. “Please let me down a little,” she begged, her leg stretched out at knee level, already ached, not sure how long he expected her to keep it that way.

Michael let her down some, her one foot now flat on the ground. “See, I can be nice if you cooperate, but I need you to raise your leg up higher. It's so lovely."

She strained her leg almost up to her waist, her skirt bunched up on her thigh. She knew that he could see under it, her panties probably exposed, but that was the least of her problems. Her leg ached. “Please hurry."

"Gladly, Justine,” his hand reached out and gripped her ankle tightly, raised it higher, made sure it stayed straight, his other hand under her knee, he wanted her to feel the pull in her muscles and in her crotch. He looked down at the sleek leg beneath his hands; her skirt pulled back, a glimpse of the pale blue panties underneath. The hand under her knee grabbed the strap from the rope, wrapped it tightly around her upper thigh, pushed her skirt out of the way as he did. He yanked; the strap compressed her flesh, made her grunt in pain. He pulled up on the rope, her leg now supported by it, he continued to pull up, higher and higher, pushed her leg outward, opened up her crotch to him.

She felt her leg open wide above her waist and below her knee hung uselessly, back on her tip toes to keep from falling over. He finally stopped, her knee well above her waist, Headmaster Michael's hand held her thigh pushed out, his eyes on the wide expanse of naked thigh that went all the way up to the blue panties that highlighted her pink skin. Would he molest her? Why else would he have her spread so obscenely? “What are you going to do, Headmaster Michael?"

"You have such a delectable body, Justine. I'm going to play with it while you are hanging here.

Maybe masturbate you. Could you cum for me, Justine?"

"Don't touch me!” She instantly recognized her mistake; Headmaster Michael stared into her eyes with an evil glint.

"I will do what I want with your body, Justine. For the next few days your body is mine to play with. Some of it will be pleasurable but you will also feel pain. After a while you will submit to the pleasure if for no other reason than to stop the pain.” He stroked her face as he watched resignation sink in, her body bound for his pleasure. “Yes, let yourself go, give in to me.” His hand slowly slid up and down her legs, her muscles tight, his calloused hands enjoyed the silky smooth inner thighs; smooth, delicate skin that he would soon mark with a whip or a strap. He let his hand slip her skirt up, “Let's get this out of the way. Yes, such lovely panties, Justine,” she tried to move away as his hands slid up her thighs almost to her crotch.

She turned red, her skirt shamelessly thrown aside by Headmaster Michael, her naked leg bound and spread by the rope. She could never have imagined such a thing, to be humiliated like this, bound and hung like a piece of meat in a meat market, unable to stop him from doing anything to her. Even if she screamed, she doubted that anyone would hear, or even care. Most had left for the holiday, leaving her alone at the hands of the Headmaster. She felt those calloused hand rub harshly across her skin, the skin she daily rubbed lotion on to make it silky, the skin she protected from the sun. She jumped, his hand moved higher, almost to the edge of her panties.

No, don't touch me there. Afraid to confront him; afraid of the consequences; the rubber collar still wrapped tightly around her neck.

Headmaster Michael moved back a bit from her, one hand still on her leg, he admired the thrust of her breasts. Her arms were held up high, unable to protect the soft globes, Headmaster Michael eager to feel them. “I love a girl in a sweater, Justine. I love the tactile feel of a firm set of breasts beneath a nice soft sweater. And you have such a nice pair.” She shut her eyes; she didn't want to see as he moved toward her, his hands eagerly in search of her breasts. She'd had many boys paw at her but, except for the one that took her virginity, she fought them off successfully. She pulled on her wrists, the pillory held her firmly in its grip.

"Open your eyes, Justine. I want you to see everything you are going to experience.” He moved closer, his fingers lightly ran over the top of her breasts, his fingers flowed over the soft sweater material, her youthful flesh underneath it. He stared into her eyes, his fingers slowly moved back and forth, tracing her cleavage, his cock jumped at the image of it buried tightly between them, tit fucking her until he came on her face. He made the circles bigger, spread out, fanning out toward her nipples. He looked surprised to see them protruding from the sweater. “It looks like you're enjoying this, Justine, your hard little nipples are poking out your sweater,” he teased.

She couldn't believe that her body responded! To be bound, ready to be punished, his fingers taking liberties with her body that she would not allow, yet she couldn't deny that her nipples were hard, hard as pebbles. She turned red in shame, unable to understand why.

"Arch your back for me, Justine, and I'll let my fingers encircle those hard tips. You want that don't you? You want my fingers to touch them.” He moved his finger closer, encircled her areolas, pushed harder on the flesh beneath his fingers, saw the tips spring out, begging to be touched. He continued to tease around the nipple, bigger, teased erect, but she still refused to arch her back for him. He let his hand slip down on her naked leg, felt her, his other hand still encircled her breast, then pinched the tender flesh around her nipple.

She screamed, her back arched, her breasts forced out, Headmaster Michael's ready fingers clamped on one tightly. She moaned loudly as his fingers pinched the sensitive tip.

"What did he do?” Doctor Lenox could not understand why she all of sudden arched her back for him, stuck her tits out for him to touch. He looked at Meredith.

"Look at his other hand,” and pointed out Headmaster Michael's other hand on her naked legs now gripped her sex in his palm, one finger dug deep between the lips of her pussy, clenching and unclenching on it like it was a baseball.

Justine was shocked by his touch. One minute she begged to have her nipple touch, then resisted his order to push her breasts out for him. The next minute he had gripped her between the legs, her bound and spread leg that left her defenseless. The large hand so callously gripped her between the legs, knocked the air from her lungs, Justine so unprepared. His fingers rubbed her pussy lips back and forth. She couldn't help herself, her back arched, her breasts stuck out, begging him to touch them. And he did. Michael seized one thrust out breast by the nipple, pinched it between his rugged fingers, and sent delightful pain through her body to mix with the pleasure he gave her between the legs.

Headmaster Michael, pleased with the way she performed, hoped the Board was also pleased with his ability to put a girl through her paces. He had so much more to do to Justine, he moved his hand away from her pussy, her panties already damp. “That was a good girl, Justine,” two hands now pinched and pulled on her nipples, “keep your back arched for me, stick your tits out for me to play with,” he ordered her, noting she enjoyed his hands. “See how much pleasure I can give you?” he encircled both breasts in his large palms, gripped the springy flesh, squeezed them, felt their resilience. “Yes, so nice beneath that soft sweater. But you know what I have to do next, don't you? I want to feel your naked breasts. I want my fingers touching your naked nipples,” squeezing her breasts in his powerful hands.

She felt so naughty; his hands so casually caressed her breasts while she willingly thrust them out for him. She wished his hand was back between her legs; her bound leg left her so open, and now so empty. She couldn't help herself; she was bound, unable to stop him from having his way with her, already forgetting the punishment he had promised. She felt his hands touch her stomach, pushed under her sweater, touched her naked skin, she knew that he would be pulling up the garment. She looked down as his strong hands grabbed the sweater, pulled it over her bra, up to the bottom of the pillory, and tucked it in. She felt his hands reach back down, fingers over her naked breasts, lightly touched the breast flesh that pushed out the top of her bra, slipped down in the valley between them, back and forth.

He didn't wait long before his hands encircled the blue matching bra, a frilly garment that barely contained her ample breasts. He squeezed them both, pushed the flesh out the top of her bra. “I can't wait any longer,” Justine's eyes opened wide when he pulled out a knife, “I'm going to cut it off, that and your sweater. You won't need any clothes for a while; I'm going to enjoy you very naked.” He laughed at her distress as the knife made short work of the flimsy garment, a few snips on the shoulder straps, not even bothering to unsnap the clasp in the back, easier to slash the edge, let her feel the knife “accidentally” nick her under her arm, he relished her gasp of pain. He let the bra sit on her chest, knowing the men in the other room eagerly waited the sight of her naked breasts.

He looked into her eyes as his hands moved down to her bra, the knife cut all support, the garment just laid on her breasts now. Suddenly, he ripped the bra from her, her nipples turned hard instantly; they stood out over an inch, the pink tips long and extended from the tug of his fingers. Her large dark brown areolas the size of half dollars sat in a sea of white flesh.

Michael loved young girls’ breasts, their nipples stood out so proudly and there was no sag. They made such nice targets, surprising the girls when he took a whip to them, not really being able to believe that someone would do something that cruel and painful to them. But he did, he loved to take flexible rods to their nipples, to ignite a pain that they couldn't believe. He reached down and grasped her breasts, loving the feel of her warm flesh, feeling her hard nipples in his palms as he squeezed them. “Keep your back arched for me like a good girl, Justine,” his fingers ran around the areolas, a ragged fingernail over the brown flesh, tiny bumps popped up, moved closer to the hard nipple.

His fingernail hurt! It must be a jagged fingernail, like a knife around her nipple, but she kept her back arched for him, waited, knowing that he would touch her nipple with that ragged fingernail.

She knew it would hurt, but the pain was different now. She moaned, his fingernails over her nipples, a finger snapped at her erect nipple, slapped it back and forth harshly.

Michael moved his head down, her eyes watched him. His tongue ran down her cleavage before his mouth clamped onto one of her nipples, sucked it deep into his mouth, the nipple stretched at least two inches, his teeth biting into the flesh of her areola keeping it trapped in his mouth. He let his hot, rough tongue lap at the swollen flesh, slapping it back and forth while she moaned vehemently. His other hand reached over for her hanging breast, his fingers pinched and twisted that nipple painfully.

It felt so good, her nipples so sensitive, as he took advantage of her bound arms, unable to stop him from doing anything to her, his mouth sucked her nipple as she imagined a baby would do.

But this was different, she wished she could put her legs together, could rub her thighs together, her pussy throbbed with desire. She almost wished his hands would return to between her legs; grab her by the sex again. She knew she would cum if he did.

Michael pulled his head back, her one nipple glistened with his saliva, both nipples now a darker red from the abuse by his fingers and mouth, tiny teeth marks laced around one areola. His cock throbbed with the thought of how they would look with the marks of a whip on them. He moved to the side, giving the Board a good look at Justine naked from the waist up, seeing the lust in her face as he slowly aroused her sexually.

"You want me to touch your pussy, Justine, don't you?"

She looked at him; shivering from the way he made her body feel. He was so much older than she was, it shouldn't be this way. She shouldn't be so sexually aroused, yet she couldn't deny the feelings coming from her sex. She knew her panties were soaked, humiliated that he would soon find out how much she really wanted it. She couldn't hide it, with her leg pulled up high, her pussy so open to his touch; he had unencumbered access to her pussy.

He reached his hand down and gripped her on the back of her naked legs before he slid his hand up until it reached her panties. He moved higher, gripping her tight ass, so full, his hand loved the feel of her buttocks as she tightened her muscles. “Such a nice ass, Justine. Very nice. You like me touching it?” He let his hand run over her ass, fingers tracing up and down her crack, her cheeks tightened when he did.

She had not expected that, his hand grabbed her ass instead of her pussy. His hands gripped her cheeks; she tightened her buttocks together when he went too far and tried to touch the crack in her ass, afraid of where his fingers would go next. She felt his hands move down again, then slip under her panties, pulled outward by the rope that held her leg open as he grasped her naked cheeks. Fingers moved over her cheek, felt her crack.

"You don't like that, do you, Justine?” He pushed his finger in harder; her muscles tightened more, as he teased her. He would wait until she was naked. Then he would spread her out on a different piece of equipment, spread out with no way to stop him from enjoying the tiny asshole between her cheeks. He pulled his hands out, but not out of her panties, he tore them from her, the blue panties easily ripping by his powerful hands.

Her panties dug into her flesh, especially her crotch, before they were ripped free; Headmaster Michael pulled them from her body. Naked now, her skirt still on but pulled back, not covering anything. She saw his stare; his eyes burning a hole between her legs.

He touched her bound leg and pushed it out, bowed it, opened up her pussy to his gaze. It was the sweetest thing he had seen, a small patch of hair at the top, closely cropped into a V, the rest of her pubes naked, a pair of puffy lips unable to contain her pink pussy from his gaze, the bondage did an effective job of leaving her vulnerable and exposed. He let his hands touch her inner thighs just shy of her pussy, grabbed her roughly, knowing that she was probably creaming herself.

"You have the prettiest cunt I've seen in a long time,” he used the coarse word to describe her pussy, seeing her turn red in embarrassment. His fingers moved up to her pussy lips, spread each out to the side, ready to peel back her lips, eager to see her pink pussy, her tight vagina. He saw the lust in her face. She wanted to cum. He touched her lips, pulled them back as he dug his fingers in, watched them part, her pink inside opened. He gripped the puffy flesh, her wet, silky pussy lips exposed, glistened in the light. “You're so wet. Ask me to masturbate you, Justine.”

He looked at her face; so young, but the unmistakable look of a girl on the edge of cumming. If she hadn't been bound she would have had her fingers in her pussy, finger fucking herself until she came. But for now, she would have to beg him to do her.

God, please let me go. Please let me do it myself. I need to cum so bad, my pussy is so hot.

Headmaster Michael watched her, waiting for her response, wanting her to say it, to humiliate her. She hesitated before she finally whispered, “Please."

"Please what, Justine? What do you want me to do to you?"

She hesitated again. “Please masturbate me,” she murmured.

"And what, Justine?"

"Make me cum,” humiliated at having to admit it, to ask him to make her cum.

She jumped as if touched by a bolt of lightening, his finger slowly ran up and down her slit, her juices immediately soaked it while he inspected her inner lips; his fingers touched every bit of wet flesh, up and down, all over her vagina, feeling how tight she was.

He was like a doctor as he examined her. Justine allowed him access to the most intimate places on her body. He held her body open as he ran his fingers up and down her slit, bowed her leg back, her pussy gaped wide, embarrassed at how she must look, the pillory not allowing her to see.

Michael ran his finger around her vagina, a tiny little hole. She hadn't been fucked much. The thought pleased him. Once he tenderized her skin with a whip, made her more willing to fuck him he was going to test that little hole. He pushed with his finger; felt her slowly open for him,

“Such a nice tight pussy, Justine,” pushed harder, her body tightened on his finger. His finger slid in easily on her juices, a tiny gasp escaped her when he pushed in to the knuckle, twisted his finger, massaged the soft sides. Her hips began to move, “Let me feel how tight you are, Justine.

Tighten your pussy on my finger, show me what a good girl you can be."

She heard his voice urge her to perform for him. It was embarrassing, making her tighten her pussy on his finger like a trained dog, but she needed to cum and it wasn't as if his finger didn't feel good. He seemed to discover new places inside her that sent shivers through her body, places that even she hadn't known about. Maybe it was just because she had no choice, the bondage prevented her from protesting what he was doing. “Mmmm,” squeezing tight,

“Mmmm” again, feeling as he twisted his finger when she tightened on it.

"Yes, like that, Justine. I like that."

She felt proud of herself that she pleased him. She couldn't understand why she felt she had to, but she continued to squeeze, his finger so big inside her.

Michael slipped his finger out, back in, this time two fingers slid inside, felt her stretch to take the digits. She would be so tight around his big cock. “Squeeze again, feel how full you are with my fingers, Justine."

She wished she could bow her other leg out, give him more room, his fingers twisted and turned inside her, his knuckles rubbed hard on the sides of her pussy. She could almost cum just from his fingers, if only he would touch her clit. Soft moans as she tightened on the fingers, held her muscles tight as he moved within her. God, it felt so good. She released, his finger plunged deep inside her until his knuckles painfully banged against her opening. She felt him start finger fucking her, each time in deep, then out and back in again. She just had to cum! “Please!” she begged him.

Michael looked at her, “What do you want?” He would make her beg for it.

"My clit, please, touch it,” the lust reflected in her voice.

"Of course my dear, I'd love to do that. I want you to cum for me.” He pulled his fingers from her pussy, felt her tighten on them as he did, not wanting them to leave. One hand went around to her ass, slid along her flanks before finding the crease in her buttocks; let it slide sensuously up and down, teasing the tiny anus, not touching it but stopping just short. His other hand moved up, fingers pushed aside her pussy lips, two fat fingers slid on her juices until it hit her clit, suddenly he pinched the erect bud in their powerful grip. He thought she would jump out of the pillory, her body jerked up and down. “Yes, Justine, ride up and down on my fingers, fuck back.” He let his finger slide down to her anus and pushed on the tiny opening. She jumped again, her body sought to get away from the finger, push her swollen clit into the fingers that gripped it so tight.

The touch was electric, the hard, brutal touch of his fingers on her clit. She expected a gentle touch, surprised when the pain mixed with the pleasure, her body shook in ecstasy as the highly-aroused organ was so harshly handled, bucking up and down, not sure whether she tried to avoid it or make him pinch harder. She didn't have time to even think about it, his other hand slipped around to her ass, slid close to her anus, the forbidden spot between her cheeks. She cried out as the finger pushed against her defenseless anus, the thick, calloused finger slowly ground on the opening, his other fingers twisted her clit painfully. “God, no! Not there!” She threw her head back in protest as she felt his fingers on her most intimate opening, a place that shouldn't be touched.

It was so tight; her sphincter fought the intrusion of his finger in her asshole. He ground the tip on the tiny opening, her struggles made it more difficult. He pinched her clit hard between his fingertips, her piercing scream, the pain forcing her asshole to relax and gave him the chance he needed. His finger plunged inside her rectum, his dry finger dragged painfully inside. Her hot, tight asshole clenched on his finger.

She thought he was going to tear her clit off, his fingers dug harshly into it. As she screamed in pain she jerked, his finger plunged into her anus. She'd never felt anything like it, a strange burning sensation followed by the thick finger rubbing her clenching muscle. His finger returned to her clit, snapped the aroused bud back and forth until she exploded, her hips ground back and forth to feel the pleasure of his finger but at the same time escape the ruthless finger in her backside.

She came harder than she had ever before, her body covered in sweat, her nipples swollen with lust, the juices ran down her thighs as his fingers continued to manipulate her body against her will. “God, yes!” His finger pulled from her asshole to plunge inside her pussy, two fat fingers fucking her without regard to the pain or pleasure it inflicted.

Her body jerked in pain when he “accidentally” banged a fingernail into her soft inner walls only to return as his fingers plucked such pleasure from her clit. Her asshole still burned, as if it was still full of his finger, spasms of her anus gave her a strange tingling between her legs. He pulled on her clit, another orgasm hit; his fingers played her young body. She began to cry, sobbed as she came, humiliated at being forced to cum by Headmaster Michael, his fingers still kept her sexually aroused, a third and final orgasm shattered her body. She slumped down exhausted from the ordeal.

"Ssshhh, Justine. You're such a good girl to cum like that for me. If you're good, I will make you cum so much more,” stroking her head as he cradled her body, his hand still played across her bush, rubbing her lips, his fingers wet with her cum. He so enjoyed the way she cried.

They watched her cum, her naked body hung beneath the pillory as Headmaster Michael continued to manipulate her body, keeping her legs splayed open so they could see her pussy gush.

"See how he fingered her asshole and still made her cum,” Meredith commented to the others.

“He kept her sexually aroused and made her suffer the pain in order to get to the pleasure.

"The next part you will enjoy. He told me that he's going to whip her and I'm sure that her various sexual parts will receive the brunt of the punishment. I understand he loves to whip a nice pussy, forcing her to spread her legs for the whip. And those lovely tits will dance under it as well. I don't think he'll be able to hold out after that, taking his sexual gratification with her body."

Michael pulled the pillory open, removing Justine from it, holding her to keep her from falling, her body exhausted from the extended orgasm he had just induced in her.

Justine was so thankful to finally be released from the constraining pillory around her neck.

While he had done some painful things to her body, it hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be, the pleasure overcoming her pain. Hopefully he would now let her go, the humiliation of being forcefully masturbated her punishment. “Thank you, Headmaster Michael,” his arms still cradled her. He let her slump to the floor, and moved away from her.

Michael pulled the canvas cover from the next piece of furniture. She wasn't even paying attention, still too exhausted, slumped on the floor. He liked this one, another heavy wooden pillory, but this one was a bit different. It had a large base on the floor with interconnecting pieces, each having various mechanisms to make the pieces go up, down, left or right. The top piece was similar to the other, but it was at a right angle, Justin would have to bend over to stick her head and hands in the holes. He went over to where she was, bent down and lifted her up under her arms, not missing a chance to touch her breasts. “Over here now, Justine. It's time again."

She looked up, caught a glimpse of the wooden structure out of the corner of her eye, turned her head to stare at the massive, wooden structure. “No! Not again!” It was almost like the last one, a place for her head and hands, but on the floor it was built for two legs to be placed into. She struggled, but Headmaster Michael was too powerful.

"Shhh, Justine, settle down,” pushing her over to the pillory. This one was easier, already open; he forced Justine down by pushing down on her head until her neck fit so nicely into the hole.

“Put your arms up and in them, I won't tell you twice."

She complied, not sure why, her body too exhausted, the fight taken out of her. She saw the wood under the neck hole stained dark, victims’ saliva having soaked it. She put her hands up, her legs pressed tightly together, her thighs sticky with her cum. He released her head, the shadow of the pillory fell down until she it touched the back of her neck and wrists, Headmaster Michael banged the padlock noisily. She tried to move but it was as before, the thick solid wood secured her tightly. This time the neck fit tightly, she hoped that there wouldn't be a rubber collar. She didn't like when her breathing was so constrained, it had made her panic.

He looked down at her, her skirt still around her, but naked from the waist up. She was bent over, not quite to the waist, but it did allow her breasts to hang freely beneath her. Her naked back, still damp from sweat, angled downward, her butt pushed out, her skirt clung to it, Headmaster Michael knew that beneath it she was naked. He smiled as he saw her legs tight together, he laughed at her foolish attempt to stop him from getting between her legs. Soon she would willingly comply, spread her legs for him, and let him visit the whip up between her thighs to slap harshly on her naked pubes. “You look very lovely like this, bent over, your nice plump ass sticking out."

"What are you going to do now?” He had moved out of her range, his hands on her back the only way she knew where he was.

"I'm going to tenderize your lovely body, Justine, with a whip, paying special attention to your ass, your tits and between your legs. Yes, your tender pussy is going to feel the sting of the leather. I'm going to enjoy making you scream in pain. It's going to make my cock very hard.

And you're going to help me, Justine. You're going to spread those tanned thighs for me. Real wide so the leather can slap your inner pussy lips. You won't believe just how much that will hurt."

"This is what I like,” one of the Board members stated and reached down to make his hard cock comfortable in his pants.

"Maybe Headmaster Michael can get a girl for you to whip. How would you like her?” Meredith asked certain the headmaster would be pleased to help him.

"Can you string her up into the air by her ankles, upside down, legs spread wide? I have a razor strap that I would love to use in the area between her legs. Maybe even take it to her tits, make them dance for me."

"That would be perfect. You could then pull her up when you finish until her mouth is level with your cock. I'm sure that she would be more than willing to let your fuck her face. Either that or you could whip her pussy more, her choice.” They both laughed.

In the meantime, Headmaster Michael had moved a mirror in front of Justine. “I want you to be able to see in back of you, to see what I am doing to you. And also to see my special toy. I want to make sure you have every chance to avoid the pain it could inflict on you if you cooperate.

But first, let's get rid of that skirt. It's covering a nice naked ass.” He let his hands roam freely over her ass, felt her tight butt beneath it. He took out his knife again, sliced the skirt down the seam; the rag fell to the floor. He admired her ass, thrust out for him. “Yes, I like that,” his hands returned to touch her flesh.

Justine hadn't even moved when he stripped the last of the clothes from her body, his hands returned to caress her naked skin. She clenched her thighs together, determined to keep him from the treasures nestled between them. She looked into the mirror, a double reflection off a mirror behind her, shined back the image of her backside. She looked so obscene, her butt pushed up in the air, naked, the crack in her butt so crudely exposed, her clenched thighs her only relief.

Michael moved to the side of her where she could see him. He reached over and grabbed one of her breasts, milking it with his hand like a cock, the tit hung down, the nipples not yet hard. He picked up a flogger he had just bought. While it was not what he was used to, he thought it appropriate for his new position. He let his hand run through the fall. “This is an American Classic Flogger, Justine. It is built to sting, with 40 falls, that vary in length at 12 inches, 18

inches or 24 inches. It is an excellent flogger to go into hard to reach places, the alternating lengths of the falls make sure that every part of the body, even the darkest recesses, will feel the sting of this suede flogger."

"You can't use that on me!” she proclaimed, the pillory shook as she tried to pull free. She was getting her strength back, but it was too late, the pillory held her secure.

"I'll let you feel it a couple of times on your back, just so you will know what to expect.” He drew the flogger up into the air, let it fly, then landed it on the center of Justine's back with the signature “thud” as all 40 falls tore into her skin.

Justine screamed in pain. He had been right, the sharp sting concentrated on her back. It hadn't been just one spot, but the whole area; she was sure that her skin was torn. She did not have time to protest before a second and more powerful “thud” disturbed her scream of pain, her agony doubled, her back a mass of conflicted pain.

Michael rubbed his hand over her inflamed back, the skin already warm, turned a light pink.

“Now that you know what to expect, let's try a more intimate part, Justine. How about if I flog your hanging breasts?” His hands reached down to one, grabbed it in his palm, squeezed it harshly before he moved on to her nipple, pulled and yanked until it began to harden, not sure if it was pleasure or pain that brought it about, Michael had not really cared, just wanted to give himself a bigger target to abuse.

"You can't hit a girl there!” she exclaimed, but knew better. Headmaster Michael enjoyed inflicting pain and she knew that her breasts wouldn't be the only place. He had already threatened to whip her between her legs.

He let the flogger fly, swung side-arm, got enough force behind it to slap against her breast flesh, numerous falls tearing at her areola and nipples. He was pleased with the scream that he tore from her lungs. He imagined how it felt, 40 suede falls attacking her breast. He let her feel the pain for a minute, faded to a dull ache before he slashed at it again, aimed lower, put the full force of the blow on the tip of her breast, her nipple.

She thought he had ripped her nipple from her breast; the fall hit the hard flesh with a powerful force, the second one even more painful than the first. She began to cry, even as he switched sides, Justine turned her head just in time to see the flogger sail through the air and strike her untouched breast. Two more blows, each time harder and faster, her breast bounced around as it suffered the terrible flogging. She couldn't stop screaming; Headmaster Michael moved from one side of her to the other, each time extracted fresh screams from her, each time her breast suffered the terrible sting of the flogger. She panted, her voice hoarse from her screams, sure that her breasts bled.

"What do you think, Justine?” He stood in front of her, stroking her tear stained face. “Did you like that?"

"It hurts so bad, please stop."

"I'll leave your breasts alone-for now. It's time to work on your backside. I'm going to start with the bottom of your legs, moving up until I get to that nice, juicy butt. Then, you're going to have to help me out. I want to flog your tender inner thighs, so you're going to spread your legs for me.

"Never! I'll never do that willingly. You're going to have to force them apart!"

"No, I don't think I'll have to do that. I think you will spread your legs quite far for me. But first, let's get those shapely legs warmed up.” He moved behind her again, bent down so he could get a good level swing. He struck her on her calves, her clenched legs allowed him to strike both at the same time. She began to dance for him, her feet moved, but she kept her thighs tightly clenched as he moved up and down her calves. He finished with her lower legs, then moved up to the back of her thighs, the tender area between her buttocks and her knees.

It hurt, hurt bad, especially to the back of her legs, the flogger unrelenting as it sought out tender flesh to strike. She screamed again, her feet moved up and down as she suffered under the ruthless flogging. He stopped, his hand rubbed up and down the back of her leg, moved up to her butt, felt her clenching her muscles.

"Just a few blows to get your ass a little red. Then we will get down to the serious part.” He let the flogger fly through the air, hit her sensuous ass with all 40 falls and a resounding thud that shook her body. She was pushed forward into the wood of the pillory by the force of the blow.

He followed up with five consecutive blows, her screams continuous, her sobs filled the room.

He was sure that the Board was happy with her song of pain. He let his hand run over her ass, felt her flinch as he touched the hot, red flesh. “Now it's really going to hurt, Justine. I'm going to whip your tender inner thighs first, then move between your legs and whip your pink pussy.

Finally I'm going to let the flogger sting your tiny asshole. It's going to feel like I'm tearing your body apart. But first I want you to look in the mirror and see my little toy. Watch the floor behind you."

He pressed a button near him. This was not an antique, but a modern invention made to induce girls to willingly spread their legs, even though they knew it would open up their sex to such terrible abuse. The floor opened and rows of sharp tacks, each over an inch long and spaced one inch apart, appeared on the floor running from the pillory, back to over three feet behind her.

“These will pierce your feet if you step on them, so if I were you I'd do anything to avoid them.

I'll tell you when I move this or increase the area of the tacks so you can make up your mind if you want to avoid them or suffer the painful stabbing of the sharp tacks into the tender skin on the bottom of your feet. I had one girl who thought she would rather step on the tacks instead of spreading her legs for me. She couldn't walk for over three weeks until the stab marks healed.

Her pussy would have only taken a week to heal,” he laughed. “And, I still whipped her pussy anyway.” He laughed at her discomfort.

Justine could see the sharp tacks glisten in the light, shuffled her feet to the sides, knew that her thighs no longer touched, her feet a couple of inches apart. She saw the reflection in the mirror; her pussy peeked out from between her legs, her buttocks still clenched.

He let the flogger fly through the air, hit the area of her upper thighs and lower buttocks, sure that a few of the longer falls had hit her pussy, her scream a testament to his marksmanship.

“Very good, Justine. Now watch the tacks again, I'm going to make them wider. You're going to have to spread your legs a little more for me. Show me a little more pussy."

It hurt, the flogger found the tender skin of her pussy lips that still protected her inner pussy from the falls. She opened her legs wider, beyond the six inches of tacks, her feet placed on the outside of them, looked into the mirror, the gap between her thighs widened, her pussy now in clear view.

"Not yet, Justine, watch the tacks again.” He pushed the button; tacks appeared under her right foot, forced her to move it forward at least another four inches. Tacks under her left foot were the opposite, forced her to move it back at least four inches, as well.

She had figured out the purpose, her tender thighs were exposed, each inner thigh available to the flogger. She braced herself for the pain, the sting instantaneous, Headmaster Michael grew impatient. He slapped at her thighs, the falls wrapped around her white inner flesh, then moved on to the other side. Eight continuous, alternating blows followed, Justine lifted her leg, danced, watched so she didn't place her tender feet down on the tacks. It hurt so bad, screams as she suffered the cruel flogging.

"You're doing well, Justine. Now watch the tacks again. First they are going to fill in the area in front of you, so you are going to have to move both feet back.” The button made the tacks come out of the floor, Justine shuffled her feet backward, her body stretched out, her ass had no other alternative except to rise up. Her legs stretched far out behind her. He turned a crank, the pillory held her head as her arms began to move down, Justine forced to follow, bend over farther, her head below her waist. “That sticks your ass out nice for me, Justine.” His hand roamed over her ass, her cheeks already parted, her pussy peeked out from between her legs. “Just one more thing now, Justine, watch the center this time. It's going to get wider, so I'm afraid you're going to have to spread your legs for me now."

He had been right; he had forced her to spread her own legs, the gap between them widened to over two feet before she stopped moving to avoid the sharp tips. She looked at herself in the mirror, her pussy spread open, the cheeks between her butt still clenched, hid her anus, but she knew she could not hold them that tight for much longer. She braced herself for the pain.

Michael swung the flogger sideways across her lower buttocks, struck her upper thighs and lower buttocks; stray falls attacked her pussy as it peeked out.

She jumped, the pain raced through her groin, her head banged against the pillory as she tried to escape the cruel flogger. But it was no use; Headmaster Michael had done an efficient job of presenting her body so that it was at its most vulnerable. At least for the moment. He moved to the other side, another backhand across her ass and the screams rang out again. Ten times she bore the brunt of the flogger on her naked flesh, the falls sought out and found the deep recesses between her legs to sting with the bite of a bee.

He stroked her flesh with the flogger; let her feel the instrument of her punishment. “You know what I want now, don't you, Justine? I want you to tell me what you'll do now."

She sobbed, her lower body a mass of pain, her skin felt like it was red hot, his touch ignited the beaten flesh. She knew what she must say. “You want me to spread my legs wider for you,” she sobbed.

"Yes, Justine, such a good girl. The area of tacks between your legs is going to get bigger.

Significantly bigger. About four feet, so you're going to have to go very wide. Can you do that for me, Justine?"

She had already moved her legs wider as the tacks began to appear. At first she hadn't judge the distance enough; a tack stabbed into the side of her foot and motivated her to spread her legs wider. She looked into the mirror, her pussy completely exposed, even her pink pussy inside her lips were unveiled. She unclenched her cheeks, her anus now unprotected, her muscles no longer able to defend the tiny hole.

Michael moved behind her, pleased at the way she was presented to him as well as to the Board behind the mirror. His fingers roamed from the top of her thighs, trailed lightly over her pussy, felt her jump with the unexpected touch of his hand before he let them play up and down the crack of her ass, to rub her small anus.

The first slash struck on the top of her buttocks then trailed painfully down the crease in her butt, suede falls tore at her anus and ripped an ear piercing scream from her, but it was nothing compared to the second scream wretched from her lips. Michael had let the flogger rise up from the floor to travel between her legs before it struck at the juncture, hard into the vee, squarely on her sex. The force of the blow made her body rise up, fear of stabbing her feet on the tacks the only thing stopping her from rising with it.

"Now I know that hurt, didn't it Justine?” He teased her for a minute, let his hand rub over her pussy, felt her flinch from the pain before he swung the flogger again. He heard her sharp intake of breath just seconds before it landed, straight up again, the varying lengths of the falls found the deep recesses between the lips of her pussy, some even smacked harshly against her vagina.

Another shrill scream, her body unable to comprehend the pain he was inflicting on her. Two more quick ones, then one to her asshole turned her into a complete blubbering girl. He rubbed her flesh again.

"Please,” she sobbed, “no more."

"Almost, Justine, almost. But I think you can do a little more for me in posing and exposing your body for the flogger.” Watch the floor again; you're going to have to spread your legs a little wider. I know it will begin to hurt, as if it's splitting you up the middle. But you will soon forget that pain when the flogger splits your pussy."

She couldn't take this much longer, afraid her pussy and asshole were ruined, as if he had torn them to ribbons. Little did she know or realize that a girl's sex was not that delicate, able to take a severe whipping and still be serviceable for fucking. Michael would soon test that theory out.

Her legs spread obscenely wide just in time before the tacks appeared. Her legs were over five feet apart; her thighs ached from the strain.

"I like that, Justine, now just one more thing. You're going to have to get on your toes; the area where your heel is will soon have tacks coming out.” He watched as she jumped up on her toes, regardless of the promised pain of the lash, afraid of the tacks, she knew what they felt like. He let the pillory fall toward the floor again; her head moved down, her ass rose up. He moved behind her, pleased at how she was presented. He patted her between the legs, spanking her pussy softly, smiled at the people behind the mirror.

"Bravo Michael, Bravo,” they cheered him, the Board pleased at how the chastisement of Justine proceeded. Their cocks swollen with lust at the sight she presented. Her head was bent far down in submission, her ass arched high, her legs spread an exaggerated distance, the muscles in her legs tight, her ass cheeks taut as she balanced on her toes, her pussy and asshole open, submitted for the lash of the flogger.

Michael let his fingers run up and down her slit. Even though she was being whipped, it was surprising how wet her pussy was. Once again, he was not sure if it was a natural reaction to the pain or if she was submitting to the punishment and aroused by it. He moved to her asshole, felt her try to move away, but her position of servitude had not allowed any movement.

She felt him touch her intimately again, scared when he touched her anus, circled the crinkled opening, a dark brown circle in a sea of white buttocks. She wagged her ass in protest as his finger pushed inside and played with her sphincter.

"Four strokes to your pussy and two to your asshole. I'm going to enjoy this, Justine."

She cringed when she heard his voice. God, how would she be able to survive it? Her legs already ached from the severe stretch she had been forced into, her toes cramped. Her crotch hurt, not just from the flogging, but from the wide stance of her legs. Her only salvation would be to get it over quickly. “Hurry, get it over in a hurry."

Michael liked that, her surrender to the punishment. He stroked her flanks one more time as he would a favored dog, “Good girl, Justine, now arch your beautiful ass up for me, I like how the position spreads your pussy out for the flogger,” smiled at she strain to please him. He tapped her pussy from behind, loving the sound that his hand made on her flesh.

He swung the flogger up from the floor, watched her tense as she heard its swoosh, struck her between the legs with a powerful force that drove her body upward, the forty falls spread out like a fan, beat a path from the insides of her tender thighs to her spread pussy lips, the individual falls sought out the most tender part of her body, the harsh sting of the suede rushed to all her senses almost immediately.

She screamed in pain, her legs wanted to move together to protect her sex from the cruel flogger, but the tacks effectively enforced her submission, her body trembled in pain. Three more to her pussy. God, could she stand it? She heard the whoosh again, the sharp thud as the flogger struck her, harder this time. Headmaster Michael had swung from above, his strength greater this way, hit her on her spread ass cheeks, beat straight down the center of her cheeks. She thought her asshole was torn open, the falls smashed all around her tiny anus, inflamed the skin. “Not so hard,” she shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Michael smiled as he saw her delicate skin turn red, blistered by the beat of the flogger. Her legs trembled, her toes strained to keep off the tacks. He would have to hurry, not sure if she would be able to retain the submissive position much longer. A quick cut up her pussy, made sure the brunt of the falls hit between her pussy lips, smashed into the tender inner flesh with a resounding crack, certain that many falls breached her lips to attack her vulnerable vagina. He wanted to make sure that it was inflamed by the time he finished, make her a better fuck, give him more enjoyment, her body forced to tighten up in response to the new pain. Another cut down onto her asshole, the pink, wrinkled opening a bright red, inflamed and pulsating.

She screamed continually, Headmaster Michael didn't allow her to absorb the pain before the flogger returned again to tear the flesh. Her pussy burned, the skin so tender, the flogger returned again and again to the same spot. It felt like the falls forced their way into her vagina, pushed her hole open. One final blood curdling scream wrenched from her voice, Headmaster Michael made the most of his powerful strength to slap the flogger between her widely spaced thighs for the final blow. Her pussy, swollen and inflamed suffered the painful slaps of the falls, each felt like they sought out her most intimate parts, one long fall struck upward to slam painfully into her clit. She trembled in pain, puffed from the exhaustion of the terrible beating that Headmaster Michael inflicted on her, her body a mixture of confusing signs, her muscles ached, her skin burned, her sex abused.

Meredith looked at the Board members; their eyes glued to the sight of Justine still in the degrading position Michael had put her in, her skin now a bright red, especially her pussy and asshole. The flogger had extracted a painful price from her body; sex would be painful to her for a while, a thought that further excited them. “Did our new Headmaster do an excellent job in punishing her?” She saw them all nod.

"Is he going to continue?"

"Yes, but from the look of the bulge in his pants and the way Justine is positioned, I think he will first be taking advantage of that lovely and beaten pussy to sheath his cock. I think Justine will be more than willing to perform and give Michael the fuck of his life to avoid additional time with the flogger. The pain she'll feel when he fucks her will send her pussy to spasms, massaging his cock."

"And after that, what next?"

"He has some more surprises for Justine. I think her delicate body parts will feel the pinch and bite of some of the more nasty and painful instruments. It should prove very entertaining, and I'm sure Justine's body will be put into a very interesting compromising position to afford you all an excellent view."

Michael gazed at her upturned ass, her pussy still pushed back, spread wide. He loved how the flogger turned her white, delicate flesh a shocking red. Even the pink insides of her pussy lips were a deep and dark red, her lips swollen, her puckered anus raw.

She looked back at him just in time to see him unzip his pants and take out a large cock, the head massive, a light red, with a dark brown ring running around it. “Can you take the tacks away so I can move?” She watched him move toward the controls, relieved.

Michael allowed the tacks at her heels to recede. “Put your feet flat on the ground and relax, I imagine they must be beginning to cramp."

She sank down, her toes cracked as they did; almost falling as her heel had begun to tingle, falling asleep. “Let me put my legs together, please,” she begged.

"Soon, Justine, but first you're going to have to fuck me. Your flogging made my cock hard so you're going to have to service it with your pussy. I like the position you are in, you'll be able to provide me with a good fuck. I expect you to fuck your hips back and forth and your pussy to squeeze my cock. Can you do that for me, Justine?” His hands rested on her hips, his hard, hot cock touched her ass cheeks, watched her jump when she felt it.

It almost felt like it was burning her flesh. She felt his cock touch her ass, frightened at the thought of something that big inside her, especially the condition her sex was in. She couldn't see it very well, the mirror only gave her a glimpse, but she knew that it must be swollen. She knew she would be forced to maintain the position he put her in, her ass thrust out, her pussy looking like it begged to be fucked, a humiliating position to be in. But she had no choice. “I hurt too much,” she sobbed.

"I can either fuck you or spend the time using the flogger on you some more. I'm just not sure how much that nice little pussy can take. Would you rather I beat your pussy with the flogger ten or twenty times more?” He smiled; he knew that it was not a choice she would accept. Anything would be better than the flogger; little did she know the torture she would have to suffer once he finished cumming in her hot little box.

He was right; she could not take any more of the flogger, her flesh so tender. She wasn't even sure how she would be able to stand him fucking her. “Fuck me."

"I think you're going to have to get wet for me first, Justine. Can you be a good little girl? I'll masturbate you a bit but I need you to make your pussy cream for me. I know your pussy hurts, but try real hard.” He teased her, wanted her to force herself to accept it, get wet after being beaten, getting her pussy lubricated for his big cock.

She could only nod her head, humiliated at the thought of having to get sexually aroused after he had beaten her so severely, get wet so that he could force himself on her and fuck her. Fuck her until he deposited his dirty semen inside her. She felt the bulbous head of his cock rub up and down her pussy slit, between her lips, push them ruthlessly aside. She felt the wetness; his cum drip out and rub up and down her slit. He pushed it against her vagina, so huge compared to her tiny opening. She was no longer a virgin, had been fucked before, but not very many times and that boy was small compared to Headmaster Michael.

His hands slipped underneath her, his fingers found her bush and sought out her clit. He found it, his fingers pushed along the edges, pushed the clit hood out of the way, his two fingers squeezed it below the head. She jerked up when he touched it, pushed onto his hard cock, felt her vagina stretch open before she pushed back again, pushed her clit into his hand. “Yes, see you're starting to hump me already,” laughing at her discomfort. “You really want my hard cock to fuck your tight pussy. Maybe I should flog you anytime I want to fuck you to get you into the mood,” his voice cheerful as he continued to tease.

"No, I hated it,” she blurted out. His other hand moved down to her vagina, one finger pushed in, the skin tender from the flogger. “Careful, that hurts."

"I know, your pain makes my cock hard. What a nice, hot tight pussy, Justine. Yes, that's the way; your pussy is sucking my finger inside.” He felt her pussy clench on his finger, her pussy already wet. “Your pussy is already moist for me, Justine,” his other hand rubbed her clit back and forth, felt it swell. He pulled his finger from her pussy, too anxious to wait any longer, fisted his cock and placed it against the tiny opening of her vagina. It would take a lot of force to push it inside, but with her legs spread so wide, unable to move because of the tacks, she would willingly help to make it fit.

"Oh God, it's too big, it'll never fit!” she began to cry as his cock head began to push in, feeling her vagina stretch. She planted her feet firmly, pushed back on her ass, not wanting to move her feet and feel the pain of the tacks. Not after all she suffered to avoid the painful puncture of her feet. It was so cruel of Headmaster Michael, he flogged her, and made her participate in her own debasement, now she had to help him by pushing back on his cock so he could drive his massive cock into her tiny vagina.

"Oh that's so good, Justine, push that sweet little pussy onto my cock and then you can give me a good ride.” He grabbed her hips, rotated them, made his cock enlarge the opening as it slowly and painfully pushed into her pussy. “Just a little more and you will have the head, Justine, fuck back and let it inside you."

She grit her teeth and pushed, the cock slid painfully inside her vagina, she gripped the large head as it twitched inside her. It was huge, and he would expect her to take the length now that she accepted the girth. “Hold still, please, let me get use to it,” she begged him.

He rotated her hips again, moved them up and down, his head pulled out then pushed back in, it felt like it was caught in a giant vice. “That feels so good, Justine. Now take a little more inside your tight little pussy. I have over eight inches of steel cock to feed you.” He heard her moans of pain but her ass arched backward, her anus puckered out as she did, Michael pleased at how she was displayed. The tiny wrinkled opening of her anus would feel his finger soon, but first he wanted his cock sheathed inside her pussy. He couldn't believe how tight she was. Young girls always delighted him, their barely used pussies a waste, Headmaster Michael more than willing to take advantage of their lack of experience, always willing to teach them how to perform for him.

Justine pushed back on the rigid cock pressed inside her pussy, felt the head rub hard along her pussy walls as it was forced in her. Back out again, his cock moved more easily, her pussy got wetter. Back in, deeper, his cock rubbed new spots inside her, filled her completely with his pulsating flesh. She felt him flex his cock, made it jump inside her, teased her. Out again, she clamped on the head as it pulled out, afraid it would slip out, make him mad or make it take longer. Her ass arched backward, drove her pussy on his cock as he patiently stood behind her, buried in her tight pussy while she rocked back and forth on it.

Michael loved the way she performed for him, her hips pushed back and forth, pushed his cock in deeper and deeper as she moaned in pain as he filled her pussy. “You got half now, Justine.

Such a good girl you are, fucking so nicely on my cock. I need you to take it deeper, I want it buried inside your cunt.” He used that word again, knowing that most women didn't like to have it called that, knowing that he degraded her further by referring to it as a cunt. He reached around her bent-over body, almost lying on her back, his cock half buried in the tightest pussy he had fucked in a while. His hand slid under her, cupped her sex with his hand, felt his rigid member stick out of her pussy. He traced his fingers around her pussy, felt her hole wrapped tightly around his cock, like a band that ran up and down his shaft as his cock moved in and out. “I'm going to play with your clit. I want my cock buried in your pussy in the next three strokes or I'm going to pinch it off. If you obey, I will rub it nice and make you cum with me."

She knew that he would do it; the flogging convinced her of his desire to hurt her and sexually abuse her. “God!” She pushed back, buried almost all of his cock inside her, the massive weapon pushed aside all resistance, tore its way deep inside her. She felt his hand rub her pussy lips, felt his cock as she made it slip in and out. One final plunge, his cock banged against her cervix as she finally fully engulfed the hard cock. Thank goodness her legs were spread so wide, her pussy felt so full. She rested for a minute while it twitched inside her; her pussy clenching in spasms on it in return. She felt his fingers find her clit and gently rub as opposed to the pain he had only just caused her.

"Now I want you to fuck back and forth, harder and faster each time. I want you to fuck me like a two-dollar whore and squeeze my cock with your tight pussy. And I want it hard, men love to fuck girls like you hard, make you squeal in pain. Please me or it's the flogger between your lovely thighs, again."

She pushed back, grunted, wanting to please him to get it over with. His cock felt huge inside her, she was not used to anything that big. She felt it slowly push inside her, her pussy walls stretched to accept it, felt every bump and ridge on his cock as it pressed forward. It banged hard inside her, pulled back out, gripped it with her muscles as she did, the bulbous head pinched tightly. Back in again, harder, bruised as she was punched from the inside. She felt it twitch and jerk inside her.

Headmaster Michael was pleased with the way she was fucking. He was almost ready to cum.

But first he wanted to drag the maximum amount of pleasure from her inexperienced body. He had found through his years of experience that a pussy would tighten in response to pain, so he used this ploy as often as possible. She would not cum this time; this fucking was for his enjoyment only. He grabbed her hips tightly in one hand, pushed a button near him that controlled the tacks beneath her heels. “Rise up quickly on your toes, Justine, or the tacks will puncture your heels,” he ordered, enjoying the look of distress on her face as she stared back at him. But her hips raised instantly, her pussy clamped down on his cock. He knew that her thighs would tighten, exhausted from her previous stance, yet forced to tighten on his cock. “Continue fucking me back, Justine. Hard!” Her hips moved back and forth, his cock gripped as it pushed and pulled inside her hot, little pussy.

She stretched up so high, her ass arched backwards, tired from the brutal fucking he forced upon her. Her pussy sandpapered by his cock, her muscles involuntarily gripped it tighter increasing her pain. She knew that he did this on purpose, forcing her to add to her discomfort to increase his pleasure.

"Good girl, Justine, you're performing well for me. I'm ready to cum in that sweet little box of yours. One more thing first to make you tighten up even more,” his finger moved up to her asshole, the puckered opening danced from the obscene fucking he made her perform, opened and closed in time with her pussy muscles.

"NO! NO!” She begged him, but she knew it would do no good, gritting her teeth, bracing her body for what she knew to be inevitable. She did not have to wait long, his finger found the spot, waited for it to open, plunged inside in one brutal thrust that knocked the air from her lungs. He had played with it before, but his finger had never moved so deep in her rectum, turned and twisted like a snake inside her as she bucked up and down. “Ah! That hurts! Too dry!” she screamed as her asshole burned from his finger.

He didn't think he would be able to push his cock inside her pussy again, her muscles clenched so tight that he had to help her, shoved his hips forward in a brutal thrust that propelled aside all resistance until the head of his cock banged painfully into her cervix. That was all he needed, the first load of cum shot up from his balls, his cock swelled as her pussy clenched and unclenched, felt his finger along side the thin wall of her asshole.

Her pussy was drenched with his hot juices, sprayed deep inside her filling her passage with his abundant semen. It stung, the salty fluid bathed her walls, already tender and sore from the fucking his cock inflicted on her. No, please not that! , His finger found her clit, twisted it, slapped it back and forth. No she couldn't, not when it hurt so much, she couldn't cum from the fucking he had forced her to perform. But it was too late; her body just too exhausted to stop the feelings, an orgasm hit her like none she had ever felt before. She fucked her hips back and forth with lightening speed, his stomach slapped painfully on her ass from behind, his balls swung up from below to hit her pussy.

Headmaster Michael couldn't believe it, his finger rubbed her pussy just to force her to drive back on his cock, he had not expected her to cum from it. But that was what was happening, her hips blindly fucked back and forth, her asshole clenched onto his finger, her sphincter gripped it so tight he could hardly move it. And she came, her juices bathed his cock as their cum mixed inside her. They came together what seemed like long minutes, even though it was probably shorter than that. Each enjoyed the other's orgasm; the feeling of each other's organs brought each pleasure.

Headmaster Michael finally pulled his cock from her pussy, a loud pop and a river of cum ran down her thighs as a testament to the pleasure they had both enjoyed. He made the tacks recede, released her from the pillory, Justine fell to the ground and curled up into a ball, her hand between her legs, her pussy still bringing her pleasure. “You seemed to like being fucked hard, Justine. Your pussy likes the pain,” she shuddered and turned red in humiliation at how her body betrayed her.

The Board looked at Meredith.

"I just love how he makes them give him so much pleasure. He made Justine rise up on her toes; I'm sure her pussy must have gripped his cock so hard. Then the finger in her asshole was priceless, the look on her face as she was pierced. But, I think Michael was actually surprised that she had cum with him, not expecting or even trying to make her cum. It just shows you how well he can train these girls to do degrading things and make them enjoy it.” Meredith smiled at the Board, pleased at the success of her having hired Michael.

"We are very pleased at how good he is in training the girls. We are going to have to take advantage of that soon. We would like to see how well they will perform for complete strangers, mainly us."

"Michael would be glad to, but I think he still has more planned for Justine. You did say severe punishment. I think he is going to being very meticulous about making sure she feels the pain, severe pain. I know he picked out some very nice torture tools to use on her lovely body. Let's sit back and enjoy."

"Get up, Justine. Take a quick shower. Clean yourself for me.” He pulled her up by her arm, moved her over to the shower in the corner of the room. “Leave the curtain open, I like to look at your naked body,” enjoying seeing her humiliate herself in front of him.

Justine begrudgingly got into the shower, her body already tired from the ordeal he had put her through, not sure what would happen next, afraid to ask. The shower refreshed her. She ignored Headmaster Michael, didn't want to see him watch her as she washed her pussy with the soap cleaning his cum from her body. She bowed her legs out, took the shower handle and shot it up her pussy, the spray too hard, it hurt as she did it, but she was eager to get rid of him from her body. She toweled herself off, wrapped the towel around her body. She moved toward Headmaster Michael, the towel just barely able to cover her sex.

"Refreshed, I hope?"

"May I go now Headmaster Michael?” she asked, hopeful; the smile on his face answered her.

"Almost Justine, we just have one more task to accomplish."

"Please, no more,” she cried, not sure she could take being abused again sexually.

"Over here,” his cock already hard again, her crying made it jerk in pleasure. He pushed her over to a strange looking device he had found. Not sure what it was called, another antique, so he had named it himself. “This is a Maiden's Chair, Justine."

"What's it for?” though she knew she shouldn't ask or have to, she knew whatever it was, it was for her body.

"I think you'll be comfortable in it.” He pushed her to the chair, a large wood and iron structure.

The back of the chair had rungs about every eight inches, evenly spaced to allow varying heights to secure the victim. There was no seat in the chair, just iron rings out to the side in a semi-circle pattern, one on each side. The rings had small round circles, big enough for chains or rope to be placed in them all along the length, again to secure the victims limbs in whatever position was desire. At the top of the back was a large contraption that he'd had trouble figuring out, finally determined that it would slide down to the shoulders of the victim, the rest fitting tightly around the head, securing it with various rings of iron with screws to make them tighter or looser.

"Crouch down with your back to the rungs, Justine. Hurry now, I don't have time to waste with you.” She complied willingly, resigned with the control he had over her. Her knees bent her ass about two feet from the floor, as if she was sitting, but with no chair under her. “Put your arms up,” he ordered, did not wait for her, pulled them up, pushed them through one of the rungs in the ladder. He bent them at the elbow until her wrists met the clamps inside, her wrists almost fit inside the clamps perfectly. Obviously, the chair was built for females. Her arms were pulled up and bent back, secured in the back. With the way she was positioned, she wouldn't be able to rise up or she would risk breaking her elbows or wrists, a creative idea by the inventor. This left her butt and sex completely exposed, as well as her breasts thrust out for him. Her body would be so readily available to him.

Fear returned, the position she was in-while not uncomfortable-did leave her unable to protect herself, as if it were possible to protect herself against Headmaster Michael. She didn't like the way her breasts were thrust out. While her knees were together protecting her sex, the strange iron bar that ran in a semi-circle to the sides of her legs scared her, the round circles looked like a way to secure ropes or chains. A large pile of rope was a short distance from where she was crouched did not dampen her fear.

Headmaster Michael looked at her. She was already beginning to sweat in fear. She had reason to, he would enjoy the pain he inflicted on her, make sure that all of her body would be available to the instruments of torture he had found. He rose up and slid the head band down the ladder, Justine's eyes tried to catch a glimpse of it. He saw the panic in her eyes as it slid down her head, one heavy ring slipped down under her chin, the other banded around her forehead. Side pieces of heavy metal were only inches from her temples. All of them had iron screws, many rusted from years of inactivity.

"Whhaat's that?” the panic rose in her voice.

"It's only to keep your head in place. I wouldn't want you to get hurt,” he lied. He began to tighten the lower band, tighter and tighter until it fit snuggly around her neck, with more than enough room to breathe. It was not meant to asphyxiate her only to keep her head pointed straight ahead. He had plans for her. The head band was next, this one made tight, the metal band left an indent in her skin, her protests vocal. The side pieces were next, Michael tightened them; he wanted her to feel them.

"It feels like you're squeezing my head,” she sobbed, the side pieces pushed in hard, her head pounded. She was scared, her head immobile, her arms bound. It had gone from bad to terrible.

"It's nothing, Justine. I'll take your mind off of it in a minute,” laughing at her obvious discomfort. Her face framed by the black iron, her distressed look pleasing him. He looked down at her legs, barely made out her pussy between her tightly clenched legs, more than enough time to get them spread. “Such pretty hair, Justine,” he reached down and wrapped his hands around a large clump and yanked hard, feeling some of it rip from her head, the rest stretched painfully out. Her howl of pain pleased him. He released it, grabbed another chunk, repeated the process, her eyes wide opened in terror, tears in her eyes.

She couldn't understand why he was doing this. The pain was excruciating, chunks of her hair pulled out, her scalp burned in pain. Her head forced still by the iron bands, “Why?” she screamed in pain. She felt him stop and grab another bunch, the pain quickly returned.

Headmaster Michael moved to her ears, grabbed one in each hand, pulled them out, twisted them painfully, enjoying the way she suffered. He moved his hands to her face, one large hand completely engulfed her face, pushed in and moved about, fingers pushed painfully into her eyes, smashed her nose back and forth on her face, fingers searched out her lips, jammed into the corners and pulled them pulled wide, unable to scream as his fingers pinched her facial tissue.

He put two fingers into her nose, his thick fingers jammed hard inside almost up to the knuckle, pulled upward, watched as her nose contorted, the holes pointed upward. “I love to play with your pretty face Justine,” her nose ran, saliva hung from her lips. He jammed two fingers into her mouth, her teeth clasped tight, banged into them until she opened, his fingers spread her jaw wide open. Three fingers inside her mouth now, pushed her tongue aside, went deeper, banged against her cheeks. “Such a nice mouth Justine.” He pushed four fingers in her mouth, her lips wrapped tightly around his hand as he twisted and turned them, rubbed the insides of her cheeks.

“You can take more,” folded his thumb in and pushed all five fingers in her mouth. She began to choke, his long fingers reached to her throat, her gag made it easier to slide them down. He pulled them out only long enough to make them into a fist; her cheeks bulge out like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts.

Her face hurt, his hand smashed and pulled. Her nose hurt so bad, running as his fingers pushed into her sinus cavity, unable to push her head up, her nose felt like it was going to break. The worst was when he put his fingers in her mouth. His dirty fingers forced apart all her resistance, her tongue crushed beneath then. She thought she would throw up when he pushed into her throat, gagged as his fat fingers tickled her throat. His fist was the worst, filled her mouth beyond capacity, afraid her lips would tear in the corners; her nose dripped constantly, her eyes clouded in tears. He twisted and turned in her mouth, his knuckles banged into anything that got into his way.

"You look so pretty with your mouth full, Justine, don't you have anything to say?” only unintelligible gibberish came out. He pulled his fist out painfully, let her lips stretch to allow it.

Before it was all the way out he grabbed her tongue with two strong fingers, squeezed tight and pulled, yanked it, stretched it out. He spit on her tongue, yanked it painfully before allowing her to pull it back into her mouth, her mouth filled with his spit.

Headmaster Michael picked up the Japanese Nose clamp. It consisted of a double hook connected with thick rubber elastic and a band to wrap around the head. Before Justine could do anything but choke and cough he hooked the clamp inside her nose holes, pulled it up over her head, yanked back on it until it pulled tightly behind her head. He looked, pleased at the sight, her nose pulled almost flat on her face, her nose holes like pig nostrils, large and black in the center of her face. He took out the dentist mouth clamp next, a shiny metal contraption. He pushed into her mouth, slid it inside her lips until it pushed behind her teeth. Once seated properly he began to turn the knobs on each side, watched as her mouth opened wider and wider.

Her tear-stained face contorted by the cruel nose clamp, her mouth forced open wide. “Real wide, Justine, open your mouth wide,” he teased her with his words, knowing that she had no control as the dental clamp forcefully opened her mouth into a big oval, over three-inches high.

Her lips stretched wide, the corners almost tearing, he stopped, and picked up two bamboo chopsticks-like sticks, connected by tiny clamps near each end He stuck his fingers in her gaping mouth hole and grabbed her tongue, pulled it painfully out, again. When it was fully extended, he slid her tongue between the bamboo sticks until they reached the corners of her stretched mouth. A few quick turns and the bamboo sticks compressed her tongue between them. He released the sticks, her tongue now sticking obscenely out, almost like a small cock, only able to wag up and down like a dog. Saliva fell from her lips, dripped down to fall on her naked breasts.

Justine thought her face was being torn from her. Her head already ached from the brace that felt like it squeezed her brains, her nose hurt terribly, dripped down into the hole that was once her pretty mouth as it was pulled up and flattened on her face, tasted the foul fluid, unable to prevent it. She saw Headmaster Michael through her glazed over eyes, tears filled them, her tears of pain; his smile said everything.

She felt him take a tiny piece of straw, pushed it in and out her ear, tickling the insides, Justine unable to stop him or even move her head, she was going crazy. But it was worse when he moved onto her nose, the straw tickled the hairs on the inside, she twitched, created more pain as it pushed against the nose clamp. She cringed when he brought out a long stick like one used on a xylophone. He moved it to her mouth, let it play along her tongue, picked up some of her spit, moved into her mouth to run around the insides of her cheeks, bulging them out. Then he did what she feared, she felt it move along her tongue to the back of her mouth. When he reached her tonsils, he tickled it up and down until she began to choke, her tongue felt like it would tear, the bamboo stick held it secure. She gagged again; Headmaster Michael enjoyed playing with her throat. Each time she thought he was finished, he pulled out and started again. She tasted the bile coming up from her stomach, unable to stop the gagging and choking, Headmaster Michael obviously enjoyed her discomfort. He finally stopped, pleased with what he was doing to her.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Justine? I hope so, because we are going to leave you like that for a while. But I want to play with your tits first.” His hands roamed the flesh of her breasts, his fingers played between her cleavage, lightly touched her skin, he felt her tense as she waited for the pain. But no, he delayed, his finger ran around her nipples, made the pink flesh harden in response, hard for the torture he had planned for them. “The Japanese were very good with bondage, especially with females, Justine.” He brought out two long bamboo poles, larger sizes of the ones used on her tongue. “You know where these are going, don't you?” Her eyes followed his hands as he pushed her breasts between the twin poles, fed them into it until they hit her chest, her breasts hung between them. “Now to tighten them up a little, let's see if we can make your tits balloon up.” He turned the large screws on the pole, one in the middle, one on each side. As he turned them, her breasts were compressed between the bamboo poles, the nipples enlarged, her breasts turned red as blood was forced to the tips. Tighter, her face strained, saliva still dripped from her mouth, the pain showed as her tits were being crushed. They stood out like giant melons. He pulled out two small clamps about an inch long and inch wide. Tiny screws on the ends would compress them.

Justine screamed silently, her breasts already hurt; the clamps looked even more evil. Her nipples hardened as the cold metal circled them, she felt his fingers push on her nipple, tucked it beneath the cold, hard steel. When he had them in place, she began to feel the pressure as he fumbled with the screws. Tighter and tighter they went, her nipples had no place to go, the metal clamp unyielding, crushed the pink rubbery flesh. She thought she would pass out, wished she would, but he stopped just before, playing with the clamp, slapping it up and down, her body jerked as the sharp pain returned each time. Then, he repeated the process on her other nipple.

"See how much I can hurt you, Justine? From now on I expect you to obey me no matter what.

But first let's play with your pussy a little. I bet I can make it hurt real bad."

Her legs were bound by the ropes. Headmaster Michael used the short strand to tie her ankles first, then her knees, then higher up on her thighs, each time secured the other end through the metal rings in the bar. He began to pull, Justine unable to stop him from spreading her open. First her ankles pulled wide, touching the bar, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed. Then he worked on her knees, forcing her legs not only open, but bowed them out, her pussy forced to open even wider. He finished with the painful part, the ropes high on her thighs, pulled them out, as if her crotch was going to split up the middle. She was positioned with her legs almost spread out at a right angle in the shape of a C, conforming to the shape of the iron bar.

More clamps followed, first her pussy lips were clamped in two large metal clamps each with three points of contact, ran from the top of her pussy lips to the bottom. He stopped only when he thought she would pass out from the pain. Small strings to the iron bar pulled her pussy lips outward, felt as if her lips would tear from her flesh before he stopped. She saw her lips pulled out wide, her pink pussy completely exposed. She screamed again as the tiny clamp was placed right below the tip of her clit, his fingers fumbled to tighten the tiny clamp, succeeded in crushing it until the head of her clit was so engorged with blood she thought it would pop.

Michael was pleased with how she looked. He began to play with her; first the wooden ball returned to her mouth, choking and gagging relived the painful lesson of how much control he had over her. He began to finger fuck her, four fingers in her stretched pussy, twisted and turned inside her, reinforced the power he had over her. Finally she suffered the painful fingering of her asshole, two fingers forced into her dry hole while she bucked under his command. He finally grew tired of her, released her from her bondage, her body white where the blood was pushed from her body under the clamps and poles that held her so tight. “Take a shower,” he ordered her again.

Justine was bound on the bed for the night, her arms pulled up to the metal headboard, and handcuffs held her wrists to the metal bar. Her legs, bent at the knees, pulled back and tied parallel to the bed, her crotch still ached. She suffered during the night, unable to sleep, the pain in her body too powerful. The only relief she felt was when Headmaster Michael returned to her bed, stripped off his clothes and took her as she was bound. He forced himself into her pussy, pumped his hips back and forth, his cock driven deep into her body as she bounced on the bed.

But he was not satisfied with just that, while she suffered beneath him, he stuffed his hard cock up her asshole, her screams brought such delight to him. It burned, hurt as her stomach cramped from the fullness of the hard flesh stuffed into her asshole.

Michael pumped her tight asshole, feeling her sphincter fight his cruel intrusion into her rectal passage. He buried himself deep in her colon, reveled in her spasms as she was forced to accept the unnatural act of sodomy on her young body. He pumped in and out as she shook her head back and forth in pain; his hands ran over her breasts as they bounced from the terrible pounding her asshole took, enjoying the sounds he tore from her lips. He finally came, filled her colon with his hot cum, dumping what he was sure felt like a gallon of cum, sloshing around in her belly.

The next day she suffered again under his torment, but this time she came. He forced her to cum three times, twice bound and spread before the mirror, the Board eagerly watched her debasement as she succumbed to his skills in keeping her sexually aroused, alternating between the pain and the pleasure. She was forced to take his cock in her pussy and also up her asshole again, fought the sodomy with the same vigor as the night before. The third time he lay next to her, her hands stroked his cock as he gently masturbated her. Her head was close to his cock.

“You are going to learn to suck my cock, Justine."

"Yes, Headmaster Michael,” nodding as her hands played with his big cock, afraid to take it in her mouth, especially to have him cum in her mouth. But she knew that she would learn, then spread her legs wider so he could have better access to her pussy, his fingers pushed in and out, slid along her juices. “Can I cum, now, Headmaster Michael?” Michael made her wait until he gave her permission.

"Yes, Justine, such a good girl you've become.” His cock shot out, his cum all over her hands as she continued to masturbate him, her pussy capitulated under his expert masturbation.

When she was finally released, her submission was complete. She would succumb to whatever he wished of her and he would test that in the days to come, the Board members eager to enslave and debase her for their own pleasure.

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