New Girls Read online

  “You remember Jack Taylor?”

  Helen’s face lit up. “Jackie, my favourite pony boy, how is he?”

  The Headmaster waved his hand. “He’s fine, sends his love. The point is that he’s head of Neurosurgery at St. Barts and I called him up and he says that it is possible now with new techniques. It doesn’t work on everybody, but he estimates that sixty per cent of the population might be susceptible to it.”

  Helen leant back in her chair. “That’s worrying. In the wrong hands and let’s face it this government is probably the wrong hands. Is there anything we can do about it?”

  He sighed and put a hand on Yolanda’s head, ruffling her hair. “I think we might have to think about using the insurance, drop a DVD of some of our guests to the media. But I’m afraid of how high this goes, we could be playing with fire.”

  They both fell silent until Yolanda piped up from the floor. “This club, could I join it?”

  They both answered, ‘NO!’ together.

  “Oh, it sounded like fun,” came the disappointed reply.

  Helen got up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Don’t do anything rash Alan, and don’t do anything alone.” She knew her ex husband too well and knew that he abhorred this misuse of power.

  He put a hand on her cheek and kissed her back. “I won’t. As you are going to be busy with Lower Marsh for the next month or so, care to join me correcting the Little Minx’s behaviour?”

  They retired to his room where they spent a couple of happy hours tormenting Yolanda and then they made love after hogtying the young masochist and leaving her at the foot of the bed.

  The next morning, leaving Helen to get Yolanda back on her feet the Headmaster went to the showers and watched the wards wash. He studied the naked various sized bottoms in front of him as they milled around under the tepid water.

  Mya Chang had a whole series of thin weals on hers, a legacy from a training session with Lucy. Her fellow new ward, Catherine Pope had a backside covered with small bruises and he remembered that he owed her a punishment for making her uniform dirty when she collapsed to the floor in the chapel.

  The way she looked at him nervously made him think she also remembered. A few of the wards were rubbing soap into their behinds very carefully, and he noted that Jane Turner had quite a few bruises on the tops of her thighs.

  He considered giving Isabella more punishment for her treatment of Turner, but realised that the stuck up young lady was now Helen’s problem, best to keep out of it unless asked.

  After breakfast he kept Catherine back and while Anna and Tanya were supervising citizen class he had Yolanda help Helen clear out her room ready for her move later. Once his staff was fully employed he led the nervous young ward to his office.

  Standing in front of his desk, her trembling was evident. Her thin shoulders were shaking and her eyes were wide with worry. He got up and moved the hard chair so it was behind her, pushing it in to hit the backs of her knees and she sat down with a bump.

  “Take your hands down Catherine,” he said quietly. She dropped her hands to her lap and clasped them together. If anything she looked more worried by this turn of events.

  “Well Catherine, how have you been settling in?”

  She sat up a bit straighter. “F...F...Fine Sir,” came her stuttering answer.

  “Keelah and Jamellia have been looking after you, using the lotion on your bottom?”

  “Y...Yes Sir, every night Sir.” Their presence was one of the things that had enabled her not to lose it completely. The second night after she had been thrashed by every member of staff in front of the other wards the other two had helped her to bed and when she heard them making love she had felt so alone she had started to cry.

  They had come into her bed and held her for the whole night. She felt so safe in their arms that she had slept the whole night through. Last night, when Jami had come in, sore and crying from her spanking they she had held her until she stopped.

  “And how is your backside now, still sore?”

  Her eyes dropped again. “Yes Sir, still sore Sir. But I know all the rules now Sir. Shall I recite them?”

  She looked so proud of what she could do he smiled and nodded his assent. Catherine stood up and reeled off the rules of the Academy, word perfect.

  “Well done Catherine, will you be as diligent with the rest of your time here?”

  A big relieved smile on her face the girl sat down again. “Yes Sir.”

  “Well let’s have a look at that backside of yours shall we.” He had stand in front of him and he pulled her short skirt down and had her step out of it and then did the same with her panties. Unbuttoning her blouse made her give a little whimper so he stopped and said. “What is Rule One Miss Pope?”

  She stiffened a bit. “O...O...Obedience at all times Sir.”

  He pulled the blouse off of her shoulders and folded it neatly. “Now up on the desk on all fours please.”

  Almost in a trance she did as he told her. Climbing onto the desk, now dressed only in her vest and socks, he arranged her so she was on all fours, her legs wide open, ready for his examination. He carefully felt all around her small backside, rubbing the bruising and running a finger up and down her anus. Then he moved to her very hairy pussy. Rubbing all around it, brushing the lips but not penetrating her.

  Catherine began to fidget, a couple of tears dropped down her cheeks at this most intimate examination. Just over a month ago she was free and able to do what she wanted; now she was a convicted prostitute and had no rights at all. She was glad to be off drugs, the doctors told her that her body was about to give out from the abuse she put it through, but now she was back in the real world she was realising how much she had lost.

  She had been born into a warm and loving religious family but had rebelled at sixteen, thinking as all teenagers did that she knew best, fell into the wrong crowd and discovered the high illicit drugs could bring. She also discovered that drugs never gave you the same high twice and was soon using double the amount she started on just to get the same high.

  She overheard her family planning to get her into a clinic and ran away from her gentle seaside village in Devon to London. As soon as she got off the train she was spotted by a brothel madam, who gave her all the drugs she wanted. Without even realising it her virginity was sold to the highest bidder and she became one of her girls.

  As she realised she had become nothing more than a street walker looking for her next fix, she tried to resist but her madam’s henchmen just beat her up and worst of all cut her off from her drug supply.

  She was a slim shy girl to begin with and when a punter told her Madam that he wasn’t paying good money to fuck a bag of bones that didn’t even move in bed, the Madam tossed her out onto the streets where she had to beg for money to get drugs. Being arrested on a government publicity stunt was probably the best thing that had happened to her in a year.

  A month in hospital, chained to a bed going cold turkey to get her off drugs followed then, once she was rational again, conviction and a week in the court cells before coming to High Heath.

  Arriving here had been a culture shock. Whilst she had suffered at the hands of punters and the madam, she had been cushioned by the drugs. She had never experienced deliberate discipline before; here she had been punished with the hand, straps and paddles, she had been dressed and undressed by strangers, groped and had all control ripped away from her.

  Her forehead came to rest on the desk as she felt the Headmaster insert his fingers inside of her. A shiver went through her body as he held his fingers in place and a sob broke from her mouth. She realised that she had a year of this to go and missed her family.

  He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on her backside, gave a hard slap to the proffered buttocks and told her to get down. Once she was back on her feet he ha
d her put her hands behind her head so her very prominent nipples stood out against her thin vest.

  He stood in front of her and tweaked the hard nubs with his finger and thumb, casually remarking, “These are very large Catherine.”

  She began to tremble again and a few more tears slid down her red cheeks. With no response he gave the nipples a little twist. “I expect a response Pope.”

  Her lip quivered and she said, “Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

  He sat down and read her file. The madam who had been renting her out was quite notorious and had avoided prosecution for many years, but now was in prison for twenty years, as were her henchmen.

  He read the psyche report and could she that she wasn’t a bad person. What Helen would call a good kid gone down the wrong path; by the time she left here she would be back on the right road.

  Her whole story had come out under hypnosis and he decided that he would give her some hope to carry with her for the next year, as he had Chang.

  “It may interest you to know that the whole sordid little brothel you were taken into has been closed and the madam has been sent away for twenty years.”

  “Good!” Catherine felt uplifted by that news; she hoped they rotted in prison. “I mean, thank you Sir.”

  “Just remember young lady they wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do what they did to you if you hadn’t got involved with drugs. You are ultimately responsible for your own path in life.”

  “Yes Sir.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. That was the sort of thing her father would say. “May I ask a question Sir?”

  “You may, though I may not answer it.” He was pleased that she was coming out of her shell.

  “Please Sir...does my family know where I am?” She had been tortured by the thought that they thought she was dead, or worse had given up on her.

  “They do indeed; they were informed of your conviction and sentence. They seem to care enough to have made several applications to visit you as well.”

  “W...Will they be allowed to visit, Sir?”

  “I’m afraid not Pope. You will have no contact with the outside world for the duration of your time here.” He watched her head go down as she took in his answer. “But,” he reached into a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, “I will allow you to write them a letter.”

  He pushed her back towards the chair and she sat down, her naked bottom feeling the hard wooden seat, looking at the blank piece of paper in front of her. Picking up the pen she said, “Thank you Sir.”

  He gave her time to finish the letter and address an envelope. Taking it from her he said, “This will be posted tomorrow but I will have to read and censor it if necessary.”

  “Yes Sir, I understand. Thank you for letting me do this.” She meant every word she said. She had come in to the room being very afraid of this stern powerful man, but now she felt warmth for him.

  He put the letter in a drawer and came round the desk to where she sat. Taking her arm he stood her up and placed the chair in the centre of the room, where he sat down.

  “Now let’s deal with the mess you made of your uniform, shall we.” He pulled her over his lap and tucked her in under his arm and began to lightly rub her backside.

  Catherine steeled herself. She deserved this punishment and all the humiliations for letting her family and God down. She knew now that God had saved her life and sent her here to be punished. Tonight she would start speaking to Him again like she did when she was a child. The first spank landed and she gasped at its impact, as more blows fell she felt the floodgates open and she began to sob brokenly.

  As he worked her small buttocks the Headmaster had a feeling the Pope was going to be one of their success stories. She had been deeply religious, and if her belief in God was going to help her here he wasn’t going to take it away from her.

  For several minutes he spanked her until he could hear her sobbing and her legs were waving about as the sting of his hand struck home. He pulled her to her feet and she put her hands on her head without being told.

  Heaving in great gulps of air she stammered out, “Th...Thank y...you for my p...p...punishment Sir. P...Please punish me again when I need it.”

  After having her display herself for a few minutes he allowed her to rub herself and then watched her as she dressed. Taking a tissue from the box he wiped her eyes and held it to her nose like a six year old.

  He escorted her back to the classroom and left her with Anna, returning to his office he read the letter she had written. It was mostly about how sorry she was and talked of how God would get her through and she would soon be home with them. Nothing about what was happening to her so he enclosed the mission statement for High Heath that he and Helen had drawn up years ago and left Yolanda to send it out with the post. He made a note in her file about her suitability for training as a youth worker on release and that she could be sent back to her family, not a usual occurrence.

  While he had a few moments he quickly reviewed the CCTV tapes from the evening of the judge’s visit. He was impressed with Tanya’s performance and stored the recording on several data bases. For future use if needed.

  He also watched Helen’s office punishment of Isabella as well. It was good to watch her in action again and made a note to get the cameras up and running in her room, for whoever moved in.

  He was disturbed by the front door intercom buzzing and looked at the screen to see Jennifer Smart standing hunched up in the cold wind that always seemed to blow around the front elevation of the Victorian building.

  He met her personally at the door. There was an odd look on her face as she entered the building.

  He kissed her on both cheeks. “You look a bit peaky Jenny,” he remarked.

  She looked around as the heavy front door closed. “I never thought I would be coming back voluntarily. It even smells the same, disinfectant and age.”

  They began to walk slowly down the corridor towards his office, “surely not all bad memories?” he asked.

  “No, not all bad,” she said smiling,” but I can tell you that my backside has been twitching since I came through the door.”

  “Well, shall we stop by my office and see what we can do about that,” the Headmaster offered.

  “Thank you for the offer Sir, I’m sure you only have my welfare at heart. But I think I’ll pass on that, if you don’t mind.”

  He took her into the warm staff room where she slipped off the waist length leather coat she was wearing to reveal a thick jumper which matched the knee length skirt she wore. Her whole ensemble was set off by knee length boots. While he was making tea Helen entered.

  “Hello Jennifer,” she greeted, “I’m so glad you could join me at Lower Marsh.” She kissed her on both cheeks as well, greeting her like an old friend, not someone she once used for sex.

  “It was an offer I couldn’t refuse, Mat...Headmistress,” she replied.

  “When we’re alone call me Helen dear. Ma’am when the wards are about.”

  Jenny nodded her assent. She understood the need for a clear hierarchy. Then she spotted Yolanda standing behind her, smiling broadly. “Yolanda, how are you? Still here after all these years?”

  “The place would fall apart without me Miss, but I stay even though they treat me terribly.”

  “Too much punishment Yolanda?” Jenny asked.

  “Not enough! Some days I’m not punished at all!”

  “Today is likely to be one of those days Young lady, if you’re not careful,” the Headmaster cut in, just as the front door buzzed again. “Make yourself useful and go and answer the door.”

  Yolanda skipped out of the door and returned with Belinda Smith. Introductions were made and they sat drinking tea while waiting for Jemma and Isabella.

  Alexandra had still not arrived as they made their w
ay to the dining room for lunch. The wards were already there and a nervous feeling could be felt in the air as they took in another two unknown people.

  After the meal was finished the Headmaster stood up and all the wards attention turned to him.

  He indicated Jenny and Belinda. “This is Miss Smart and Miss Smith; they are new members of staff, but not here. The government is opening a new Academy some twenty miles from here in a place called Lower Marsh. Our own Matron will be the Headmistress in charge, I’m sure we are all very pleased for her.”

  The wards shuffled in their seats. A few of the more sensitive ones had felt that there was something big coming up, but they guessed that it probably wouldn’t improve their lot in life.

  “This will affect quite a few of you as ten wards will be transferred there, so new wards will have someone experienced about them.”

  This time there were a couple of quiet gasps, and then a deadly silence as the wards that had made the noise waited to see how the Headmaster reacted. He looked at the two noise makers, Chelsea Wallace and Heather Macleod, no doubt thinking they would have to leave their lovers, and held their gaze for a few moments. Watra and Ogleu took their friends’ hands and squeezed them.

  “The following wards will come out here and stand behind me. Hart, Smith, Standish, Murphy, Short, Moxon, Watra, Wallace, Edo and Poole”

  Wide eyed, the wards did as they were told and stood behind the Headmaster, all huddled together in a group as if for protection.

  He continued his speech. “This is an unfortunate break in routine, but a necessary one. I expect it to go smoothly, any disruption by any ward will be dealt with harshly at once and then even more harshly by myself or the Headmistress once things are settled.” He stopped to let that statement sink in.

  He turned to face the wards gathered behind him. “The transfers will take place tomorrow after breakfast. You will now follow your Headmistress to the orientation room where she will tell you what she expects of you.”