Back to School

By Mel

Part Three

The three girls rapidly bundled me out of the Headmaster's study, two holding an arm each and the third following close behind. Those wretchedly uncomfortable shoes were even worse than the last pair that I had had to abandon in the toilets, and made it really difficult for me to keep up with them. The girls here were always in such a hurry, except when I wanted them to be. It was a long walk - what an enormous school building it must be. Eventually, we turned left through two pairs of swing doors and into what was obviously a girls' changing room, with the sort of rows of benches and pegs I thought I had left behind me when I left school five years earlier.

"This is the prefects' changing room, little girl," said one girl in the condescending tone they all adopted when talking to me. "You have to go through here." I was pushed through a door into a small room already occupied by a tall, well-muscled, red-haired man, aged no more than 30, wearing a grey tracksuit. I guessed that he was the teacher.

"Ah, Wendy," he said, beaming at me. I should have been glad that someone was being friendly to me, but after my experience being groped by the geography teacher I felt wary of other teachers. Nevertheless, I made the effort to smile back at him. "We've got you a brand new PE kit," he continued, handing me a paper carrier bag. "You'll be charged for it, of course." I bit my lip, furious at the way they kept adding insult to injury by charging me for their maltreatment. "Now, just take off all your clothes and put these on."

"What, here, sir?" I was appalled by the idea of being naked in front of a strange man.

"Yes, of course. You can't use the prefects' changing room, and there's nowhere else here. Now, get going. We haven't got all day."

I took out the contents of the bag one by one and put them on a chair. There was a black nylon t-shirt that looked as if it was so short it would hardly cover my breasts, a matching thong, barely enough to be decent, and a pair of black canvas shoes. I undid my shoes and took them off. That was a relief, as they were really hurting me. I put them under the chair, then pulled off my socks and put them on the chair next to my new kit. Slowly, reluctantly, I unfastened and unzipped my skirt and took it off, exposing my bottom in its tight white knickers to the teacher, who was closely watching my every move. I folded up the skirt and put it on the chair.

"Faster girl, get that blouse off now," snapped the teacher. It was bad enough having to strip off in front of a strange man without being given directions. As slowly as I dared, I removed my tie and hung it over the back of the chair. I then unbuttoned my blouse, took it off and put it on top of my skirt. With no bra, I was now nearly naked. I picked up the t-shirt to put it on, hoping to cover my breasts.

"No, girl, strip everything off before you put your kit on. Get your knickers off, now." This was really humiliating. I did as I was ordered, blushing furiously, and added them to the pile. I was now stark naked, and totally aware of the teacher's eyes as he took in every detail of my body. He was still smiling broadly. As quickly as I could, I pulled on the thong. It did virtually nothing to cover my bottom, and not much more in front, especially as to my alarm I saw that it was rather see-through, but at least it made me feel a little bit less naked. The t-shirt followed. As I feared, it was barely long enough to cover my breasts. Like the thong, it was embarrassingly see-through. Clinging tightly to my breasts, it emphasised them rather than hiding anything. Finally, I slipped on the shoes. Scarcely to my surprise, they were too small.

"Right, girl, let's be looking at you. Stand to attention!" The teacher sounded just like an army sergeant, and maybe he had been one. He adjusted the t-shirt, smoothing it over my breasts and giving them a rub and fondle at the same time. I did my best to keep still. He then hooked his thumbs round each side of the waistband of my thong, pulled it up so that it went right inside me, and smoothed the material over my crotch, again having a rub. Then he put his right arm around me, crushed my face and body to his chest and gave me a few gentle slaps on my practically bare bottom with his left hand. I struggled to breathe. "You're fine, girl," he said at last, letting go of me.

He pushed me through a door opposite the one I had entered by. We were in a large, well-equipped gymnasium. The girls who had brought me and a few others were exercising with a vaulting horse. All were dressed the same, in dark green leotards that were tight enough to leave absolutely nothing about their figures to the imagination. Yet their leotards were not see-through and by comparison with my extremely scanty garments the others looked like nuns. Again, I was clearly the odd girl out in this madcap school.

The teacher fumbled in his pocket, fished out a skipping rope and handed it to me. "Let's see how well you can handle this, Wendy," he said. I dutifully took the rope and began. I had been quite good at skipping as a young child, though I had not done it for many years, so I soon picked up the rhythm. However, I almost immediately realised that since I had last skipped I had grown breasts. My scanty top provided them with no support whatever. Each time I went up and down, they wobbled painfully. The teacher made me keep on, as fast as I could, and kept his eyes firmly on my breasts, apparently enjoying the sight of the wobbling. This went on for what seemed like hours, until I was totally out of breath and my arm and leg muscles were cramping, not to mention the agony in my breasts.

"Stop, girl!" That came as an immense relief, and I stood there shaking and in danger of collapse. "Now, I have to go out for a few minutes. Go over there and join the other girls with the vaulting horse." I doubted that I could do anything more, but I obediently tottered over to the horse, breathing heavily, while he went back through the door and closed it behind him.

As soon as he had disappeared, two of the girls rushed over and grabbed my arms. "Right, new girl, let's show you what we can do with a vaulting horse," one said. They pushed me against a wall and held me firmly.

"What are you ..." My alarmed exclamation was silenced as a third girl stuffed a dirty sock into my mouth, followed by another one. She had to push quite hard to get the second one in, and my cheeks were bulging by the time she succeeded. The socks tasted foul, and I gagged and nearly retched. My struggles were futile; they only caused more girls to join in, gripping me tightly. One girl pinched my lips together, her long sharp fingernails pressing in painfully.

"Here's some sticky tape." Another girl came up and put a wide strip of tape over one side of my mouth, smoothing it down. Several more pieces followed, sealing my mouth firmly closed. The girls then lifted me up and draped me face down over the vaulting horse. Two of them stretched my legs wide apart and tied my ankles to two of the legs, while two more tied my wrists to the other two legs. All the ropes were pulled very taut. I struggled, but was far too tightly tied to escape or even to move much. My nearly naked bottom was now my highest part.

"The new girl has such a lovely bottom," said one, rubbing it all over and massaging it. "And you know what we do with bottoms here." She smacked it hard. I jumped as much as I could within my bonds, which wasn't very much. I tried to shout, but was muffled by the gag. I doubted that it would do me any good if I could shout; nobody in the school was likely to come to my aid.

"Don't forget the table tennis bats." I recognised the voice; it was Fiona, one of my earlier escorts. The girls formed an orderly queue. Each took it in turn to give my bottom a good rub and massage, followed by a swipe with a bat. Each swipe sounded loud and echoed in the vast gymnasium. I squirmed as much as I could, and gurgled into my gag, but it just amused them. I lost count of how many times this happened; all the girls must have had several turns. My bottom must have been glowing red hot.

Finally, the girls grew tired of this game. They ripped off the tape; I screamed again into the gag from the pain of that. Then they pulled out the socks, untied me, and left me lying curled up on the floor by the horse, totally shattered. Fiona stood over me, hands on hips. "And don't forget, little new girl, if you dare to say anything to anyone about this we'll all call you a liar," she said in a most unpleasant tone.

Just then, the teacher reappeared. I wondered if he had been watching the proceedings to time his return. "Right girls, the lesson's over," he said. "Now can someone show Wendy where the showers are?" Two girls helped me up and escorted me out of another door. I saw the familiar sight of school showers. My escorts roughly pulled off my shoes, top and thong and pushed me under a shower.

Three extremely tall naked girls joined me in the shower. They stood around me, towering over me. One of them was holding a large scouring block. "Time to get you clean, little girl," she said. I looked around nervously; there was no way out. The others held me firmly while she began scouring me all over. I yelled at the pain. "Shut up or I'll stuff a bar of soap in your mouth," she snapped. I decided that if I kept as still and quiet as possible, this ordeal would be over more quickly. So I managed not to flinch as she rubbed the block over my breasts, then held each breast in turn and paid special attention to my nipples. Two more girls joined us and pulled my legs so far apart that I would have fallen over but for the two girls holding my arms. This allowed the first girl to scour the inside of my thighs, working her way up and spending some time on my groin and crotch. She also put two fingers deep inside me and probed about for a few minutes. My skin must have been glowing bright pink all over from embarrassment and the scouring.

Eventually, they finished and left me there. I stood leaning on the tiled wall for a few minutes to recover. Then I stepped out, dripping, and looked around for a towel. The teacher was standing there with a concerned expression on his face. "Come to my room, Wendy," he said gently. I followed him, still dripping. He had a large, soft fluffy towel there. He dried me very carefully, being particularly tender as he lingered over my breasts, bottom and the insides of my thighs. Excruciatingly embarrassing as this was, it was an immense relief after the brutal scouring I had just endured.

When he was satisfied that I was dry, he again crushed me to his chest and slapped my bare bottom. "OK, girl, get dressed," he said, letting go of me. I put my uniform back on as quickly as I could. After all the nudity and near nudity, even my tight blouse and obscenely short skirt made me feel properly dressed again, though I really missed having a bra.

"Right Wendy, time for supper," said the teacher.

After the ordeal I had just been through, I wasn't quite in the mood for supper. Still, I obviously had no choice in the matter. The teacher took me to the dining room himself, his arm firmly wrapped around me the whole way. When we arrived, he hugged me and left. He was the first person I had met in the school who actually seemed to like me, though I could not tell if he thought of me as more than a pretty doll to cuddle. And if I'd met him in other circumstances, I'd have thought him jolly handsome.

Once again, I had to sit on my own in the corner on my hard rickety stool while all the other girls sat in rows and chatted. I was so terribly the excluded odd one out. Supper seemed identical to lunch, a filling but totally tasteless meal. I hoped there would be a bit more variety in future.

As I ate, I sat there wondering what I could do after supper. Would I be able to wander around on my own and maybe find out more about the school, even a way to escape? Any hopes in that direction were quickly dashed when three girls came over to my table and glared at me. "Time for bed, little girl," said one.

"Bedtime? Already?" I was astonished by this.

"Little girls like you need plenty of sleep," came the emotionless reply. "Stand up."

Following the old familiar pattern, the other two girls gripped an arm each and hustled me off while the first girl followed. Back we went to the toilets and I was allowed just a few minutes there, with all three girls crowded into the cubicle with me and watching me closely all the time. Then we went up a narrow staircase, along a gloomy corridor and into a small room at the end. It was mostly occupied by a large metal bedstead. There were a few pillows piled on the floor next to it, but no blankets or sheets. There was also a wooden box with a lid.

"Obviously, you're not allowed to sleep in the prefects' dormitory, little girl, so you'll have to be in here," explained the first girl, using the awful patronising tone that I was really growing to hate. "I gather they bought this bed especially for you. Obviously you'll have to pay for it."

"Where are the bed sheets, please?"

"Oh, you won't need any. The room's warm enough. Now, let's get you ready."

"But I can get myself ready ..."

Ignoring me, the girls proceeded to undress me forcibly, pulling off my clothes and throwing them on the floor. Then one of them took the lid off the wooden box. My eyes bulged in horror as I saw a collection of chains, leather straps and other things I could not immediately identify.

"What's all this ..." I began, but was immediately silenced.

"Don't worry about that, little girl."

The girls took four pairs of manacles and fastened one to each corner of the bedstead. Standing there completely naked, I began to panic at the thought of what the girls were about to do to me. I turned towards the door, wondering if I could make a run for it and whether it would do me any good, but several more girls were standing in the doorway, blocking it. Two more came in and grabbed a wrist each. Two of my escorts grabbed an ankle each while the third gripped my waist, and I was lifted up and laid face up on the bedstead. Soon, the free ends of the manacles were fastened tightly around my wrists and ankles, and I was securely spread-eagled on the bedstead, with the chains so taut that I could hardly wriggle. My legs were pulled agonisingly far apart.

Two girls lifted up my body while another pushed the pillows under my back, lifting my head, legs and bottom into the air. This made the chains even tauter, and I felt as if my arms and legs were being pulled off.

One of the girls hitched up her skirt and pulled off her knickers. "Now, open wide, little girl," she ordered. The last thing I wanted was someone else's knickers stuffed in my mouth, and I clenched my lips and teeth shut. But the girls had other ideas. One pinched my nose tightly and another squeezed the sides of my jaw until my mouth popped open, and in went the knickers. They were large and made of thick cotton, and I was choking by the time they had been rammed all the way in. My cheeks bulged. This was a far worse gag than the socks.

The girls took a leather head harness from the box and fastened it on me. Wide straps went across my cheeks, pressing them in, and across my mouth. More went under my jaw, round my neck and over the top of my head. When the straps were pulled tight, they completely immobilised my jaw and made the gag far more effective. It would be out of the question to try spitting out the panties. I knew that I would barely be able to utter a sound. The strap round my neck was not quite tight enough to choke me, but was very unpleasant. A heavily padded blindfold pressed against my eyes and was fixed to the harness, stopping any trace of light reaching my eyes. The girls wrapped a cloth round my head and fixed straps tightly round it to stop me shaking it off. It stank of something horrible. The smell of the cloth filled my nostrils, driving out any possibility of smelling anything else.

"Let's just check she's secure," said someone. I was slapped hard several times on the breasts. My faint moans and limited movement evidently reassured them that I was completely secure. I heard all the girls walk away, and I was left lying there, completely immobilised, gagged, blindfolded and helpless.

But I was not left alone for very long. Soon I heard someone come in and close the door. Before I knew what was happening, a naked body was lying on top of mine. It was definitely a girl; I could feel her breasts rubbing against me. I was shocked. I had never been remotely inclined towards being in bed with a girl; the very thought made me queasy. Still, maybe this was better than a man doing it against my will. She crawled over me for a while, rubbing and kissing me in several places. Then she got up, punched me hard in the stomach and left without saying a word. The punch completely knocked the wind out of me. Gagged and with a cloth over my face, it took me a while to get my breath back.

Not long after that, someone came in, sat down on the bedstead next to me and started playing with my breasts and sucking my nipples. Was this a girl or a man? Blindfolded and unable to smell anything except that horrid cloth, I could not be sure. Despite my situation, my body soon responded and my nipples went as hard as bullets. Suddenly, there was a searing pain in my left nipple. The mysterious intruder had put a clamp on it. A matching pain in the other nipple followed immediately. I screamed into my gag but only the faintest of moans emerged. The intruder tiptoed out and closed the door. I lay there in agony.

Soon the door opened again and someone came in. "Wow! What nasty nipple clamps, new girl. They must really hurt. Do you want them removed?" I nodded as best I could. "I'll bet you do." She squeezed them so that they dug in even more. "But I won't do it. What I will do is use a nose hook to stop you nodding." She unfastened the straps round my head and removed the stinking cloth. I breathed in some fresh air gratefully. My ignorance about nose hooks was soon ended when I felt two rods pushed far up my nostrils and a thin rope go over the top of my head. She yanked the rope downward, and I screamed into my gag as the rods twisted my nose from inside. This forced my head painfully back to relieve the searing sensation in my nose, but I could not move my head enough to ease it completely. She fixed the rope to the bedstead, fastened the cloth round my head again and walked out, leaving me in increased agony.

After a while, the door opened again. "I say, new girl, you can help me with my homework." I wondered how on earth I could do that. "I'm doing an essay on the origins of popular phrases. Apparently, 'to ginger up' comes from a horse dealer's trick. He pushes a piece of ginger up the bottom of a worn-out horse. It stings so much that the horse becomes a lot livelier." I didn't like the sound of this, nor the fact that I was completely helpless, immobilised and gagged, with my legs spread very wide open and my bottom well clear of the bedstead. As I feared, the girl started pushing something into my bottom. I did my best to resist, but of course it was futile and she soon had it forced right in. It stung all right! I moaned as much as my gag allowed, which was very little, and twisted around as much as my chains allowed, which wasn't very much either. "Hold on, let's use a wad of cotton wool to stop it coming out." More stuff went into my bottom. "That's been very helpful, new girl. Thanks!" The girl walked out, leaving me in an even worse state than before. Trying to make the best of it, I thought that at least the sting in my bottom diverted attention from the pain of the nipple clamps and the nose hook.

Another wait and another intruder came in. This one rubbed me all over, smearing me with something. Whoever it was seemed to be wearing gloves, and worked in total silence. After the intruder left, I began to itch terribly. Evidently, it was some sort of irritating cream. Totally unable to scratch or do anything to alleviate the itch, I had to endure the sensation getting worse and worse.

Then yet another girl came in. "Hey, new girl, do you like cucumbers? I've got one here for you, straight out of the fridge." What on earth could she mean? Was she going to ungag and feed me? Then I felt something freezing cold brushed between my legs. Surely she wasn't going to... Ow! That freezing object was going inside me. With my legs spread so wide, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. In and in she forced it, twisting it, until I thought that I would be rent asunder. "There, I hope you enjoy it because I expect you'll have to pay for it." With that, she punched me in the stomach and left.

Never had I spent such a dreadful night. Not only was I immobilised, choking on a gag of another girl's panties, but I itched all over, the manacles chafed me, my arms and legs ached from being pulled, the stench from the cloth was ghastly, my nose was tortured by the hook, my neck ached from having my head pulled down, my nipples were in agony from the clamps and my bottom stung from the ginger. The cucumber shoved deep inside me was perhaps the worst thing of all.

So when, finally, after untold hours of agony, the girls came and released me, I had not slept a wink all night.

To be continued...

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