New Girls Page 2

  “Now,” he patted her bottom in a friendly sort of way, “punishment number three.” He picked up the strap and held it dangling in front of her tear streaked face. She began to sob quietly again.

  “You were late three times last week so I’m thinking three strikes for each time, that’s nine altogether.”

  Keelah’s brain was fogged with the punishment she had received this morning. She had only had the strap once before, just after she had arrived. Most of her punishments had been over the knee spanking and paddlings, except for the mass caning after the food fight.

  The first time he had strapped her she kept crying and begging him not to punish her anymore, but he had kept on at her until she had agreed to a dozen, so when he lightly slapped her arse and said. “I said do you agree Miss Murphy?” She took a deep shuddering breath and replied,

  “Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

  He put his head down close to hers and turned it so she could see into his eyes. “Good girl,” her stomach gave a little lurch at being praised. “As you know what you need, I shall give you only three strikes.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sir.” Keelah babbled, at that moment she loved this man who controlled her life with such power.

  “But, the other six strikes will stay on your record and if you are punished for lateness again they will be added to your punishment, and you will be caned. Okay?”

  “Yes Sir, thank you Sir, thank you.”

  He moved her so her thighs were touching the edge of the table and put her palms flat on the top, so her torso was held up and then, going behind her, he opened her legs wide and stood back.

  Picking up the strap he ran it through his hands. It was half an inch thick, four inches wide and three feet long. He took a strong grip about a foot up and braced himself to deliver the first blow.

  “I want to hear clear numbers and acknowledgements, Miss.”

  Keelah dropped her head and gritted her teeth and felt a blazing pain as the first blow fell on her battered bottom.

  “Neeghh! One, thank you Sir.”

  He put the second one at the top of her backside.

  “Ahhrgrh! Two, two thank you Sir.”

  He moved his position slightly and landed the third on the under hang where she would feel it every time she sat on a hard seat, and they were all hard seats at High Heath.

  “Ohhh! God, three thank you Sir.”

  He left her there for a moment and then he stood her against the wall, hands on her head, counted three minutes in his head before allowing her to rub at her damaged nether regions.

  “You have som thing to say to me, Miss Murphy?”

  She turned to face him and sniffed loudly. “Thank you for my punishment Sir, please punish me again to teach me to be a better person.”

  Picking up her panties he handed them to her, took her arm and escorted her to the infirmary. After a major punishment he always had Matron check them for any damage and apply the healing creams to the bruised parts.

  Helen was away interviewing Alexandra Clouse for the role of Gym Mistress at Lower Marsh – a new academy - so Donna Grey was running the infirmary, getting used to her new role as High Heath’s Matron.

  He found her with Jamellia Short sitting on an examination bed with Donna holding a mirror and a torch in her mouth.

  He guided Keelah to another bed and told her to get undressed and lie face down on top. She stripped off the rest of her uniform, folding it neatly and, still trembling climbed onto the examination couch.

  “Is there a problem with Miss Short, Miss Grey?” The Headmaster asked coming closer.

  “Yes Headmaster,” Donna replied. “It’s nothing serious,” she gripped Jamellia’s chin and turned her face towards him, he could see immediately the way her cheek was bulging. “A tooth abscess, Sir. I will keep her here until evening meal and give her a course of antibiotics but we will have to send her to Wavedale for treatment.”

  Wavedale was the nearest women’s prison; they had a full medical staff and facilities.

  “I’ll arrange for a van in the morning.” He tipped Jamellia’s head up, Look on the bright side Short, no exercise session with Miss Harris.”

  “Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

  “But I presume that you have been suffering for a couple of days at least. We will discuss that when you return.”

  Jamellia’s head dropped again. She had been feeling her toothache for almost a week, but had been reluctant to report to the infirmary. There was no chance of swinging the lead at High Heath because of Matron’s predilection for handing out enemas as a cure-all.

  Life was so unfair at times. Her teeth ached and now she was going to be punished for not telling anyone, and just to round it all off the old bat, Matron, wasn’t here. So she could have had all this sorted days ago.

  Donna fetched a gas injector and fitted a vial of general purpose antibiotics into the base. Telling Jamellia to lie on her face she pulled her panties down to her knees and shot a dose into her buttocks.

  “Stay in that position Short,” Donna ordered and crossed over to where Keelah lay quietly on her couch. The acting matron shoved a wire cage under her hips and raised her backside up then began to examine her battered behind.

  The Headmaster smiled as he watched Donna work. She mirrored almost exactly what Helen had done to countless girls over the last five years. Though, if the wards were lucky, there would be less liberal use of enemas.

  Donna finished her examination of Keelah’s buttocks and rubbed the healing cream into all the bruised parts, making the young woman fidget until Donna warned her to behave and slapped her thigh.

  As she washed the excess cream off her hands Donna loudly announced that Murphy would be fine to join the rest after lunch. Keelah shivered a little, the Gym Mistresses’ switch was going to be really painful on her backside, and she knew that Mini-Tits, as the wards called her, would target her especially.

  The Headmaster took Donna to one side asked her in a low voice. “How was Howard this morning?”

  Donna shrugged. “Very quiet Sir, she ate the food I gave her, let me put cream on her bum. Bilic and his brother really did a number on her. Is she going to Wavedale?”

  “I don’t know, the minister is picking her up himself in the morning. I think there’s something deeper going on here, I’m asking about to see if anybody knows anything. I’ll go and talk to her.”

  He went to a storage cabinet and took out another blanket and prison issue orange overall. When he entered the isolation room Janice was sitting propped up against the wall, her blanket wrapped around her like a shield.

  She looked up at him as he entered. There was hardly any emotion in her eyes as she tracked him across the room.

  When Janice Howard had awoken from her drug induced sleep the morning after the Headmaster had destroyed her world by telling her that her and Marcus’s wonderful plan to bring down the corrupt and decadent government had fallen at the first hurdle, she lay numb and in the depths of depression curled up in a foetal position under a blanket.

  It had struck her like a hammer how naive they had been. Tears of self pity began to roll down her cheeks as she thought of Marcus, Richard and Wendy, her co-conspirators, arrested, tried and convicted in the week she had been at High Heath Academy, now locked up in an island prison.

  She felt so to blame for all that had happened. But nobody had any idea that all convicted criminals were hypnotised into revealing everything they knew about the crimes they were involved in. Five minutes after they had put her under they knew everything about her, Marcus, his sister Wendy and poor Richard.

  The plan had been to infiltrate the Academy and bring out proof of the degrading conditions the girls were held in. Publish proof of this government’s decadent ways; bring it crashing to the ground and be hailed as
heroes.

  Instead it had all gone horribly wrong.

  Janice had been groped and abused by the guards in the court cells and on the trip here, when she complained she had been beaten, and then watched as the other two girls she was with had also been physically punished for the smallest of infractions.

  She had tried to make an immediate escape but had been captured by two thugs and left with them all night. They had used and abused her treating her like a play thing, a piece of meat to be used to satisfy their lusts.

  Then the Headmaster had told her all her suffering had been in vain and Marcus was not coming to rescue her. Now here she was, naked and shivering under a thin blanket, her backside ached from all the punishment it had taken, her limbs sore from her abuses. Tears began to fall again.

  What was going to happen to her now?

  Janice jumped as the door to the isolation cell opened. Instinctively she tried to get in a corner but the chain that was connected to her padlocked ankle strap pulled her up short.

  She pulled the blanket tighter around her as if it could be used as a shield against the terrors she had suffered. It was the Headmaster; he came and stood over her, looking down at her with a neutral expression on his face.

  “What’s going to happen to me now?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know Howard.”

  “You must have some idea, Sir.”

  “Do you really want me to be honest?” He sat down crossed leg in front of her.

  Did she want him to be honest? She had to know what was going to happen or she couldn’t make plans. She wouldn’t let them win, she would find some way of escaping and then she would free Marcus, Richard and Wendy. Together they could still bring down this government.

  “Yes please, I need to know.”

  “Well the Minister of Justice, George Chase is on his way to pick you up personally. I expect you will be tried for treason. High Heath is not given as an option in that case. The usual sentence is life in a high security prison.”

  Janice stiffened at that. “Thank you for telling me Sir. There was a pervert solicitor at the court called Chase.”

  “His brother I believe, George Chase is not much better I’m afraid, I think you should do as they say, I will try and get you sent back here. But you are a threat to them.”

  He looked down at the young, vulnerable girl in front of him. He regretted leaving her with Bilic and his brother now but he thought that she would be staying and the shock of the brothers’ attentions would make her more compliant. Even at his age he could be naive.

  He was at a loss as what to do. He had videos of several ministers, including George Chase, who had visited High Heath and had spent the night punishing and abusing Yolanda. There were several copies, on the Academy’s mainframe and hard copies on disc. They were insurance against any trouble the government might want to put his way.

  Released to the right people they would bring this government down, or would they?

  The Religious Party had been in power for over fifteen years now. They had pulled the country out of Europe, restricted immigration, controlled youth related crime. Everything the people wanted.

  But they had also reduced personal liberties. New laws had been introduced over the last three terms of their government which had outlawed demonstrations against the government, they had loaded the House of Lords with Religious Party members and it seemed the country was covered with CCTV cameras, watching everybody twenty four hours, seven days a week.

  He made Janice stand up and turn and face the wall, and gently wiped the cream off her backside. There was still some bruising evident although the redness had faded.

  Janice stood silently as he wiped her down, his fingers getting into every crevice. She had grown up in the last week; her eyes had been opened to the unfairness of life.

  He turned her around and she looked into his grey eyes. “Is there nothing you can do, Sir?”

  “Can I stop your transfer? No. It’s out of my hands; I will try to find out what is going on.” He knelt down and unlocked the padlock that secured her to the wall. Janice stood still; she knew that there was no way out of this room without the key. She was totally in his hands.

  He shook out the orange coverall and helped her put her legs into it. Pulling it on her arms he zipped it up and then placed soft slippers on her feet. Finally he locked the chain to her ankle again.

  Handing her another blanket he said. “Sit down and rest Howard. The minister will be here tomorrow morning.”

  Janice said nothing but her eyes tracked him across the room until the door closed behind him. She slid down the wall, feeling warmer but no safer.

  The two wards were still lying on their beds as he used the sink to clean his hands. Jamellia still had her panties around her knees, so he pulled them up for her and patted her backside lightly. “Feeling better Short?” he asked.

  She mumbled,” Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

  “I don’t suppose you feel like eating so our new Matron will find a food supplement for you and you can drink that.” Food supplements were thick shakes full of nutrients usually given to underweight girls to bring their weight back up to the state recommendation.

  They weren’t very nice; they didn’t taste of particularly anything but, as quite a few wards were underweight after they had been weaned off drugs, they were necessary. The girls soon found out these drinks were not voluntary. Refusing to take them meant punishment and force feeding if necessary.

  “I will excuse you Miss Harris’s class this afternoon. You can stay here and I’m sure Miss Grey can find something to occupy you.”

  Donna came in at that moment. “I promised Matron that I would find someone to do a thorough de-contamination in here. It looks like you’ve just been volunteered Short.”

  “Yes Miss,” Jamellia sighed. Wiping surfaces down in here would be easier, and less painful, than the Gym Mistresses’ class, but it was still mind numbing work.

  Donna then came over to Keelah and, under the ever watchful eye of the Headmaster, began a close, intimate examination of the ward’s backside. Pulling her cheeks apart and probing inside with a latex covered finger, eventually she cleaned the cream off, got her off the bed and re-dressed her.

  “Thank you Miss Grey. I will escort the girls to the herself room if you will get Jamellia a protein drink from the kitchen.”

  “Yes Headmaster,” Donna replied formally.

  The two wards followed him to the herself room and he sat them down, shortly after that the rest of the wards trooped in following Isabella Parker-Davis. Quite a few of them glanced at Keelah as they sat down. She blushed as she knew they had all heard her wailing and pleading this morning as the Headmaster had punished her.

  Which was exactly why he had punished her there and not in his office. None of the wards would mention it or laugh at the noises she made, they were just glad it wasn’t them.

  Isabella looked at her as well. She had taken advantage of the noises Keelah had made to punish a couple of the wards who had been distracted by the wailing.

  Isabella had only been a tutor for a week but had embraced her new role wholeheartedly. Putting a ward across her knees and spanking them as hard as she could, and knowing they had no choice in the matter but to submit to her discipline, had given her the biggest sexual kick she had ever known.

  She was looking forward to moving to Lower Marsh Academy, with Headmistress Helen and Jemma Dawson, her mistress and lover. She would have a class of her own to run as she saw fit and would maybe be able to train one of the wards as Jemma had trained her.

  Yet she still enjoyed the way her Mistress and the Headmaster used and abused her. Her new Headmistress had told her she would have to pass a rigorous interview with her when she returned from a trip. She could guess what the, ‘interview’, would consist
of: pain, humiliation and enormous orgasms. But her attitude had altered to punishing and punishments; she now wondered what it would be like to punish Mistress Jemma. Maybe one day she would.

  As the wards stood up after finishing their tasteless lunch, the Headmaster said. “Mellisa Smith, Amanda Standish, remain behind.”

  The two wards stood and waited while the other wards left the room. He never bothered to tell them why he had asked them to stay behind; it was guaranteed that they were in trouble. He just said, “Follow me, and you Miss Parker-Davis.”

  Once they were stood in front of his desk he told them to put their hands on their heads. Isabella came around the desk to stand alongside him. She had no idea what the pair had done wrong, nor did she care much, Amanda Standish she had shared a dorm with and you couldn’t not like. She was an average looking girl, who had a strong streak of empathy in her. She tried to get on with everyone.

  Mellisa Smith she had clashed with while she was a ward, slim with short dark hair and eyes, small breasts and a round figure but, as far as Isabella was concerned, completely common. No class at all.

  The Headmaster just stared at the two wards for a couple of minutes. It felt like a lot longer to the two girls, who began to fidget, their ultra-short mini-skirts beginning to wave about, sweat showing on their lightly made up faces.

  “Stand still!” he ordered, and they instantly stiffened their postures at his barked out commands, coming to a sort of attention, breasts out, stomachs in.

  “Miss Standish, what is that mark down one side of your blouse?”

  Startled, Amanda looked down to see a red mark down one side of the simple white blouse that every ward had to wear. “I...I...Don’t know Sir.”

  “You know the rules of the Academy?”

  “Y...Yes Sir, r...rule nine Sir.”

  “And what happens if you don’t take care of your uniform?”

  Tears appeared in Amanda’s eyes. “There will be punishment, Sir.”

  “And what about you Smith. Do you think the rules don’t apply to you either?”