New Girls Page 10

“And you agree to accept my authority at Lower Marsh? I have spoken to the Ministry of Justice and I will become your parole officer for the remainder of your sentence.” Helen planned to run her Academy the same as the Headmaster. She would be in charge and the staff would be subject to her discipline as well as the wards.

  Alex stiffened in her posture. “Oui, Madam.”

  Helen put a thin whippy cane on the desk between them. “So if I said that I wanted to give you six with this cane you would not object.”

  Alex looked at the cane and then at the older woman on the other side of the desk. She vividly remembered Helen or Matron as she knew her, from her time at High Heath, some of the stiffest punishments she had endured there had come from her, and Alex got the impression that Matron had felt professionally slighted when she wouldn’t react.

  But Lucy had told her that Helen was not convinced by her friend’s recommendation and she would have to convince her personally. But she had come to appreciate being dominated as well as dominating, she and Lucy would often swap around and of course Madam Jenny would have her moments as well.

  Alex gave a tight little smile and slowly began to lift her long skirt until her backside was exposed and then she leant forwards. Helen picked up the cane and went around the desk to be met by a trim, tight pair of naked buttocks. The soon to be Headmistress tapped the backside several times and landed the first cut in the centre.

  “Ahhh! Un, merci Madam,” as Helen laid a second in the same spot Alex hissed and said, “Deux, merci Madam.”

  Helen smiled and rubbed the two welts she had created and sat down again. “Thank you Miss Clouse. I presume Miss Harris has told what the job entails?”

  Alex smoothed her skirt down, not questioning why she had stopped at two, “Oui, madam, the physical fitness of the wards and some other supervising duties.”

  Helen handed over some paperwork. “This is the contract, money, holidays and any other conditions are included in there. Please read it and return it to me signed when you report to High Heath. I will expect to see you there on Friday. Governor Faulkner has agreed to your release, I expect you will want to say your goodbyes.”

  “Thank you Madam for this chance, I have one question. I was due for deportation at the end of my sentence; will I be allowed to stay in the country now?”

  “As long as I think you have performed adequately then you will get a visa to work here. Does that answer your question?”

  “Oui Madam, I will perform to the best of my abilities.” Alex picked up the paperwork and left the office, waiting until she was alone before massaging the two throbbing lines on her bottom. The bitch could still hit as hard as a man.

  Helen looked at Jemma. “Fine,” she repeated. “She will be here on Friday, I’ll introduce you then. Alan phoned and said that Jennifer Smart will also be here on Friday, you’ll like Jenny. That just leaves Belinda Smith and Isabella.”

  “I remember Belinda as a ward; she turned up just after I started here, a bit submissive as I remember.” Belinda, a slightly overweight girl, with a pretty moon shaped face, was actually the first ever ward Jemma had spanked in front of an audience.

  “Alan’s sure she can be dominant as well, and he’s usually right on these things. She may need a bit of training, I sure we’ll enjoy that. I still want to talk to Isabella before confirming her place at Lower Marsh.”

  Jemma went quiet for a moment and then told her Headmistress all about the incident in the classroom this morning, and the actions she had taken.

  An annoyed look crossed the older woman’s face. “I totally agree with everything you’ve done, Jemma. But I won’t have a member of my staff taking revenge on a ward like that, I still don’t know if Parker-Davis can cut it.”

  “Well, we were going to, ‘chat’, about it tonight, why don’t you join us and you can do Issi’s, ‘interview’, at the same time.” Jemma could see that Helen was upset with Isabella; she was going to suffer tonight.

  Helen paused for a moment. Isabella was an ideal person for the tutor position, she was dominant, but could be submissive as well, and Turner could be left behind here at High Heath, so her targeting Turner wouldn’t be a problem.

  But it needed to be pointed out to her that she needed to care for the wards as well as punish them. She smiled as an idea came to her. “Bring Isabella to Alan’s office at eight p.m. I will hold a proper interview and put a scare into her, and then I’ll have her for the night.”

  After supper Jemma met the tutors in the staff room and told them that the Headmaster would be away for an extra night as he would see Belinda Smith before returning. She gave out their assignments and they drifted off to their rooms, leaving just her and Isabella. Putting her arms around her and kissing her soundly, Jemma ran her hands up her skirt and squeezed her trainee’s buttocks.

  “Well Issi, it’s time to be interviewed by the Headmistress. She has been checking your work and wants to discuss some things with you.”

  Isabella looked startled. “Ch...Checking my work?”

  Jemma put both her hands inside the girl’s panties and ran a finger all around her pussy. “Sure, you didn’t think someone like Matron was just going to accept a tutor without testing her herself, did you?”

  “No, no of course not.” In fact Isabella hadn’t thought about not getting the job at Lower Marsh, she had thought that she would just follow her mistress. A knot of worry formed in her stomach, what happened if she didn’t get the job?

  Jemma took a grip on her panties and pulled them down and had her step out of them. “You won’t need these, I’m sure,” she pushed three fingers into Isabella’s wet box and began to slowly masturbate her. She put tongue into her mouth again, then withdrew it. “Don’t worry Pet; I’m sure you’ll pass. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong is it?” she said reassuringly.

  The knot of worry grew bigger as she thought about the incident in the classroom this morning. She knew that she shouldn’t keep punishing Jane Turner, but she detested the common tramp. It was because of her she had been stripped naked and caned in front of all the others until she was begging for mercy like a common criminal, Turner got everything she deserved.

  Her body shuddered as she orgasmed to her mistress’s fingers, burying her head in her shoulder she breathed deeply, luxuriating in the smell of Jemma’s shampoo. What would she do if she was left here while her mistress went off to Lower Marsh without her?

  Isabella didn’t quite understand why she allowed Jemma to do what she did to her, but she knew her life was better with her in it.

  Jemma held up her fingers, wet with Isabella’s discharge, and her slave opened her mouth and took them inside to clean them. “Good girl, now the Headmistress is waiting for you in the Headmaster’s office, go and show how well you’ve been trained.” She turned her around and pushed her towards the door.

  Isabella walked on wobbly legs down the corridor to the Headmaster’s office and entered Yolanda’s smaller office where she sat uncomfortably on a hard chair, waiting for Helen to remove the butt plug. Isabella raised an eyebrow as she saw that Yolanda also wore a pair of metal handcuffs and a ball gag, and was still typing out reports. She knocked on the adjoining door and waited for permission to enter.

  A strong female voice said. “Enter,” and she opened the door and went to stand in front of the desk, hands held behind her back and her heart beating faster.

  Helen looked up. “Ah, Miss Parker-Davis, you know why you are here?”

  “Yes Mat...Mi...Headmistress.” Isabella looked down, she was smiling and had let her hair down out of its normal tightly wound bun. Was that a good sign or bad? “It’s about my performance so far.”

  “Indeed it is. Well let’s get started shall we? Remove all your clothes and stand in the centre of the room. Oh! I’ve decided that I will be addressed as Ma’am.”

&nbs
p; “Yes Ma’am,” Isabella replied, without hesitation Isabella began to strip, not particularly surprised that this wouldn’t be a normal interview for a job. She carefully folded her uniform and placed it on the chair, and then stood in the centre of the room with her hands behind her head. Helen went to the cupboard and took out a short riding crop, springy with a large leather flap on the end, it could be used for spanking or caning, but used to excess it would leave purple bruises where it landed.

  Helen walked around the naked girl, occasionally landing the end of the crop on her thighs or backside, leaving a red mark. Isabella kept as still as she could; the sting of the crop was getting her excited and she gave out a little moan as Helen landed a couple of hits on her breasts, making them bounce.

  “I was quite pleased with your progress until today, Parker-Davis.” Splat! The crop landed again. “Then I discovered that you had punished Miss Turner four times in one day, why did you feel that she needed so much punishment?”

  “I...I...I don’t know Ma’am.”

  Whack! Whack! Whack! The end of the crop landed three times on one thigh, all in the same area. Isabella gave out a hiss and her body stiffened as she absorbed the stinging pain.

  “That answer is not acceptable, Miss. Punishments here are for a reason, never random, never repeated for the same offence and never...for revenge.” Helen began to walk again around a now quivering Isabella.

  As she came round the back of her Helen landed a blow from the body of the crop onto her backside, leaving a dull red line that would turn into a fine bruise in the morning. It was hard enough to force the girl forwards a couple of inches.

  “STAND STILL GIRL!”

  Isabella gave out a small sob and stood up straighter, forcing her breasts out. “I’m sorry Ma’am.”

  Thwack! Thwack! Two quick hits with the end of the crop on the backs of her thighs, just above the knees, Coming back to face her Helen was pleased to see some tears in her eyes. She reversed the crop and began to probe at Isabella’s pussy, inserting the thicker wrapped end and holding it there. The naked girl gasped as the stiff end invaded her wet tunnel. “So why was Miss Turner punished so much in one day by you?”

  As the rough end rasped across her clitoris, Isabella desperately tried to stay still. “R...Revenge Ma’am, revenge. I’m sorry, so sorry Ma’am.” Tears began to fall down her cheeks, she was sorry, she was desperate to keep this job but her arrogance had let her down again. Through a veil of tears she examined the Headmistress’s face. If she wanted her to go on her knees and beg, she would!

  Her eyes closed as she approached an orgasm, only to have the crop withdrawn at the crucial moment. She gave a little groan of disappointment and opened her eyes to see the Headmistress holding a clear plastic bag up in front of her flushed face.

  “Do you recognise this Parker-Davis?” she asked with a grim look on her face.

  Isabella nodded. “It’s an academy uniform, Ma’am.”

  “In fact it is your old uniform. How are you going to persuade me that I shouldn’t dress you in it and return you to the dorms?”

  “NO! No! Please I can be better, please Ma’am, I’m sorry!” Isabella began to panic; she couldn’t go back to being a ward.

  Helen reversed the crop again and rested the leather flap against Isabella’s pussy. “Leg’s wider!” she barked.

  The distraught girl opened her legs as wide as she could without losing her balance. Helen began to lightly spank her hairless pussy, making her fidget and sweat began to run down her face alongside the tears already there.

  “I need to be able to trust my staff to do their best for the wards in their care.” She punctuated her remarks with a harder slap between her legs.

  “Oh!! You can trust me Ma’am, I will do as I am told, I will.” Three harder blows came in on the tender lips of her pussy. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Isabella went to her knees, keeping her hands behind her head with the greatest of difficulty.

  Helen’s free hand came round and slapped the kneeling girl’s cheek. A hand shaped red mark sprang up on her cheek and tears began to flood from her eyes.

  Isabella looked up at the stern faced older woman. She was now entirely in her thrall, it seemed every time she got some of her superiority complex back, they would rip it away from her. “Please, please Ma’am, please,” Isabella began to beg unashamed, “I will do anything you want. I want to learn, please teach me Mistress.”

  Helen began to circle her again, flicking the leather end of the crop at any piece of naked flesh she could see. Isabella locked her muscles in place and tried not to flinch to much as the crop struck her back, buttocks and even her arms. She gritted her teeth at every blow; her Headmistress was using her full strength on every hit, leaving small throbbing marks on her unprotected body.

  “Maybe,” Whack! The crop struck her backside, “I should fetch Turner and she could punish you.” Smack! Smack! Smack! The crop landed three more times, up her back and even on her shoulder. “What do you think of that, miss?”

  Isabella gave out an audible groan. If the Headmistress allowed Turner to punish her she would really suffer. But she knew what she had to say. “I am your slave Ma’am, I will take any punishment from anybody you tell me to.” She clenched her hands until the knuckles were white as her tormenter began to deliver rapid, hard blows to her backside.

  As the heat and pain began to build up she fell forwards until her head was on the carpet. The offer of her submission was accepted and Helen spent the next three minutes whacking her backside, leaving small, round red marks dotted all over the skin, while Isabella sobbed quietly into the carpet.

  Finally Helen stopped the beating, satisfied that she had put her point over to the arrogant young lady. She had no intention of bringing Turner in; the academies always had to back their staff, even when they were wrong. Any punishment to staff was carried out in private.

  Helen took hold of Isabella’s long hair and pulled her back onto her feet and looked into her face. It was red and blotchy, tears still fell and she was making little gasping noises a she tried to get her breath.

  “Do you understand your role as tutor better now, Parker-Davis?” she asked.

  “Yes, yes,” Isabella spluttered. “I do Ma’am.”

  “Hmmm! Well I will bring you to Lower Marsh but you will remain a trainee until I am happy that you can be left alone. Your friends, Miss Jones and Miss Wilson, will become full tutors here. You will join them when you can do your job professionally.”

  “Oh thank you Ma’am, thank you. I will not let you down.” Isabella stood in front of the Headmistress, her body quivering with relief. She would never allow another ward to get to her the way Turner had, never!

  Helen replaced the crop in the cupboard and brought out a collar and cuffs, which she threw at the feet of the pathetically grateful girl. “Put those on. You’re staying with me tonight, let’s see just how much of an obedient slut you can be, shall we?”

  “Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.” Isabella put the leather cuffs and collar on as quickly as she could. The night promised nothing but pain and humiliation but she was happy to pay that price to stay with Mistress Jemma and retain her position.

  Once she was, ‘dressed’, Helen fixed a nipple clamp to each of Isabella’s breasts and hung a light chain between them. Clipping her wrists to the back of the collar she picked up her trainee’s clothes, put them into a plastic bag and then made Isabella hold them in her teeth. Taking hold of the chain and pulling on it, she led the girl, like a pack horse, out of the office. Looking at Yolanda, sitting uncomfortably on her hard chair she said. “I haven’t got time for you tonight, go and see if Miss Dawson has any interest.” Yolanda jumped up and left almost before she had finished. The butt plug Helen had inserted in her anus hours before was becoming really itchy, she didn’t care who took it out and punished her as
long as someone did.

  Entering her room Helen pulled Isabella over to the wall and hung the chain on a hook, leaving her pressed up against the wall with very little slack so every time she moved her nipples were pulled out painfully.

  The naked, chained girl stood as quietly as she could, trying not move too much, as her tormentor removed her own clothes and put on a short bathrobe. Isabella had been punished by Helen many times in the last few months but she had never been left with her for her use.

  She could hear her rummaging around getting something out of a box that was kept under the bed and wondered how she was going to torture her next. She soon found out.

  Helen came up behind the slightly trembling trainee and slid a hand between her legs, probing at her pussy. “Well, quite the wet slut aren’t we,” she stated. “Let’s work on muscle control shall we?”

  She held a thick, rubber dildo in front of her face. “Lick this,” she ordered and Isabella opened her mouth to take the phallic shaped object in as far as she could. As Helen pushed it down her throat she gagged a little and her nose wrinkled as she tasted the hard rubber it was made from.

  Once her mistress was satisfied that it was wet enough she inserted it into the girl’s pussy. “Now grip this tightly,” she instructed. “You will hold this inside of you until I say otherwise, understood?”

  Isabella, constricting her cunt muscles and trying not to pull her nipples out, gave a little grunt of acknowledgement. Helen swung her palm in as hard as she could giving the girl a resoundingly hard slap on the bottom.

  “Answer me you posh slut!”

  “Owww! I understand Mistress.” More tears came to her eyes as Isabella pulled back from the wall and pinpricks of pain shot through her abused nipples. She managed to hang onto the heavy dildo lodged inside of her, although she felt it slip a little.

  The Headmistress began to take handfuls of Isabella’s backside and squeeze and pinch it. Then she stopped and picked up a leather paddle. Lightly rubbing it in a circular fashion first she then began to spank the whole of her slave’s buttocks. Starting lightly at first, Helen then began to bring in heavy blows non stop until the buttocks under the paddle a deep red in colour.