The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Haibane on 19-06-2008, 01:23:41</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>19-06-2008, 01:23:41</strong>
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				Name: Lesley Uttoxeter Wingate<br>Age: 18<br>Date of birth: 7 October 1990 (will be 19 this coming month)<br>Gender: Female<br>Height: 5'4"<br>Weight: 112lbs<br>Hair Colour: Dark brown, straight, to small of back.<br>Eye Colour: Grey.<br>Build: Slender.<br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/WingateLesley_01.jpg)<br><br>Lesley Wingate was a quiet girl, rather shy. She was brilliant academically, rather a swat in fact, a label she earned in junior school and which she hated. But she’d been labelled a swat only because her shyness allowed barriers to easily be built up between her and potential friends. And finding it difficult to make friends she retreated into her studies and books.<br><br>Her junior and senior school teaching proceeded without incident or so her parents thought. Wingate kept to herself at school and this attracted some bullying. She endured it, not understanding it, nor why some girls would pick on her, calling her such revolting names, awful names she dare not repeat even to herself.<br><br>She had only one good friend at senior school, her class mate Rebecca Milsom. Milsom was good at supporting the shy Wingate, she would patiently sit with her for hours in the library while the quiet long-haired girl did her homework, and she would always be there with an umbrella to get across the quad when it rained. In the winter when it was icy, Milsom would even hold her hand as they carefully went down the front steps, lest Wingate slip and hurt herself.<br><br>Lesley Wingate was lost in her world of books, and even though she read widely and soaked up information on the driest of subjects, she never quite understood the bad names some girls called her, nor had she any understanding of the really important things in the world.<br><br>Like love.<br><br>Rebecca Milsom understood love. Milsom also knew that far too often it went unrequited.<br><br>When Wingate left Saint Bartholomew’s School for Girls at the end of July, she still did not understand love and nor, though she thought she had, and the lost pangs of it tore at her heart, did Milsom.<br><br>The two girls went their separate ways, never to meet again.<br><br>In September Wingate’s parents selected for her a prestigious college for her further education. Their daughter had earnestly sought to decline the offers from Oxbridge, claiming that she would not be comfortable in such huge schools, she preferred a smaller more esoteric and refined environment where she felt she would be able to withdraw and do what she did best. Study. Learn. Grow up.<br><br>It turned out that when, that sunny unseasonable morning early in September when she alighted from the taxi at the school gates and walked nervously onto the grounds of Belamward College for the first time, hauling her big cargo trunk on its little wheels, Lesley Wingate <em>would</em> study and learn and grow up. Only not in the ways she expected.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>19-06-2008, 02:06:33</strong>
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				The slender bookish girl hauled her trunk from the driveway and into the cool and slightly mysterious shade of the main gated archway, something like the entrances to the Oxford colleges she had visited in the summer and whose over-competitive and sport-obsessed social circles she had shied away from. Sport and Lesley Wingate did not mix. Books and Lesley Wingate mixed. Put Lesley Wingate in a library for a weekend and you’d not see her until breakfast Monday morning.<br><br>The slightly built girl dragged her cargo to the little arched window of the bursar’s office. She peered over the stone sill craning her neck to see into the gloomy interior.<br><br><strong>“Hello? Excuse me?”</strong><br><br>Inside there came the sound of raised voices as a disagreement over something a student wanted to bring into school escalated beyond that point where you know both parties are no longer either thinking straight or properly listening to the other.<br><br>Lesley didn’t like arguments. She didn’t like shouting and she didn’t like eavesdropping either.<br><br><strong>“Um, hello? Excuse me…? I need to get to Hartley Hall?”</strong> Her soft voice went unheeded by the arguers within. It sounded as though a senior student was trying to bring some restricted things into school at the start of the new year and the bursar was having none of it. The student, a young man, began threatening the college officer with his fathers wrath and influence.<br><br>Lesley shied away from the window and stood aside, uncertain what to do. She <em>had</em> to get her dorm and room number off the bursar and sign in her arrival. She checked her watch, <em>oh, no!</em> she had only twenty minutes to find her room, leave her trunk and get back to Main Hall for the year principals welcome speech.<br><br>Looking nervously around at the other students pouring in through the main gate, she began to fret and shifted her weight from one foot to the other helplessly.<br><br>From within the office the argument continued unabated, if anything becoming more frenzied.<br><br><em>Are boys always this shouty?</em> she wondered rather irrelevantly.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>19-06-2008, 07:03:38</strong>
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				Name: Maree Sheena<br>Age: 20<br>Height: 5'3<br>Weight: 135<br>Hair: Red<br>Eye: Brown<br>Build: Curvaceous<br><br>Belamward requires at least marginal participation in exercise and other physical actives, which has prevented Maree from ever approaching "chubby," but a mixture of laziness and hedonism have endowed her short, buxom figure with some pleasant padding around the edges.<br><br>Maree was born to parents who were too busy succeeding to waste time on parenting, leaving her in the largely enabling hands of nannies until she grew old enough to attend boarding school, at which point her excessive allowance and overpowering personality allowed her to step over the pencil-thin cheerleaders and would-be models to attain a nominal status as ringleader among the popular girls.<br><br>While Maree herself explained her wealth away with tales of rich boyfriends and suitors, in reality she found herself increasingly drawn to her own peers. Early forays in discrete pecks and dares quickly blossomed into more explicit flirtations, and her first year of college failed to impose any meaningful bounds on her behavior.<br><br>The bubbly manner in which she came to aptly handle numerous unfortunate women, and the occasionally-legendary abuses she took to inflicting on her roommates quickly led her to prominence among dormitory dommes, easily making her one of the three or four most recognizable figures in the building.<br><br>Although her presence goes largely unnoticed on campus the name she has made for herself indoors has qualified her to chose first from the pool of available sub roommates, and instead of picking an experienced submissive, she seems to favor untrained and largely inexperienced girls, although the reasons for this are not entirely clear.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>19-06-2008, 07:15:07</strong>
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				"Mm, it looks like somebody's going to be in trouble," comes a whisper from behind the disoriented Lesley, the voice resolving into a tall, pale woman whose smirk borders on cruel. "With that voice there's only one thing you could've tested as. Well, I suppose there have been bigger surprises, but it's unlikely." The woman seems perfectly content to continue the cryptic dialogue with herself, barely even managing to acknowledge the younger girl's presence. "The fact that you're still silent only appears to support my point," she continues, artfully raising a hand to her forehead in a mock show of dismay, "So I suppose the least I can do is point you in the right general direction." <br><br>Having said that she turns and gestures vaguely in one direction, boredly spitting out a quick series of directions intended to guide the befuddled girl to Hartley Hall. "Now hurry along," she insists, shooting the woman a disparaging glance, "I know I wouldn't want to be late in your position."<br><br>The tall woman turns and makes as if to depart, taking several steps away before she pauses and calls over her shoulder "Oh, and be sure to hand <em>all</em> of your documentation in to whoever is in charge of the desk at Hartley, and ask them to thoroughly explain what all of those tests and interviews meant to your housing: we don't want you upsetting anyone by showing up uninformed, after all.<br><br>With that, the woman continues on her way, paying no more attention to Lesley or her dilemma. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>19-06-2008, 22:02:24</strong>
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				Lesley turned, her face at once breaking out into a half smile of hopeful relief at the sound of a voice that appeared to offer help. However her hopes were dashed when she looked up into the face of a tall, fair-haired sneering girl who proceeded to fire off a hopelessly confusing string of directions interspersed once or twice with the name Hartley while waving an arm vaguely in some direction the only thing Lesley was sure about was that it wasn’t indicating back the way she’d come.<br><br>At the sound of that name, the place she needed to desperately be, she opened her mouth to interrupt, when, in a manner consistent with her customary behaviour, and immediately considering, quite wisely, that the tall girl might not be the type to relish interruptions, she closed it again.<br><br>The girl strode off in a manner that made Lesley think that if the bursar ever told <em>her</em> she couldn’t bring something unsuitable into Belamward – such as a machine gun or a semester’s supply of hard drugs - he’d be the one very quickly finding it necessary to brush up on his job interview skills.<br><br>She frowned after the girl who she assumed from her assured presence was one of the seniors, or a prefect, when the older woman suddenly half-turned back and spewed out another raft of advice the smaller girl was certain was important but which went right over her head, something about something to do with the reception desk at Hartley and understanding the reason she’d filled in all those long questionnaires.<br><br>Lesley was still gaping open mouthed at the woman’s receding back a minute later when a wave of panic washed over her in realisation that her twenty minute deadline before the freshman’s assembly was now down to fifteen minutes.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>During the frighteningly fast expiry of those next fifteen minutes, Lesley Uttoxeter Wingate became thoroughly convinced that her education at Belamward was not going to be at all as enjoyable as she had first assumed.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>The long gloomy tunnel-like archway that served to house the schools main gate and the bursar’s office and which pierced one range of the main buildings that formed a hollow rectangle, opened out into The Quad, a large square grassed space some fifty yards on a side and surrounded by centuries-mellowed, sandstone built, stone roof-tiled ornate buildings that reflected the solid fifteenth century-gothic monastic origins of the school, one of England’s most prestigious, select and expensive.<br><br>Here, alongside Eton, Roedean, Harrow and Oxbridge were educated Britain’s future diplomats, politicians, bishops, statesmen and entrepreneurs. In recent decades an increasing intake of foreign students had been welcomed, Americans, Canadians and Japanese prominent among them.<br><br>The quad had a limestone paved perimeter walk, some twelve feet in width behind which well tended flower beds lay under the arched gothic windows. At intervals around the outer pavement of this walkway, against the flower beds wooden benches were sited where students might study or conduct informal debates. While the centre of the quad was grassed and in the warmer months the students might sprawl here in the fresh air, bisecting this space in two straight lines forming a perfect ‘X’ were two more stone flagged paths permitting easy access across the quad, should a person entering in one corner require egress from it’s opposite.<br><br>At the crossing of the ‘X’ was a fountain that chuckled water down over the backs of a statue depicting Anthenomae, the ancient Celtic goddess of learning, and a cluster of plump naked cherubs who cavorted about her skirts. <br><br>The main entryway gave access to the quad in the centre of it’s south range. Doors, accessed via flights of six steps up were sited at each of the four angles and gave entry to the main body of the school. On the ground floor was the administrative centre of staff offices, secretaries annexe, professors lounge, medical dispensary, nurses station, juniors scrum room, seniors lounge, resources room, various meeting rooms and stores.<br><br>The two floors above this were all classrooms. Old fashioned, wood panelled and chalk scented.<br><br>The top floor which was set into the eaves with dormer windows were the boarders dormitories, Belamward accepting both boarders and day students.<br><br>The walkway along the north range of the quad had a stone roof projecting out from above the ground floor windows with arches and pillars supporting it’s outer flank forming a roofed colonnade which provided a cool shady walkway in summer and a dry route around from the west to east ranges in inclement weather.<br><br>It was through this colonnaded passageway that, to east and west, access was gained to the further main parts of the school: the great hall, the dining room, the chapel, the library and the headmasters suite. Beyond even these and reached by a further covered walkway heading north was to be found the swimming pool and gymnasium which gave access further still to the sports pitches and running track on the farther side of the valley furthest from the road.<br><br>There were additional ranges of outbuildings containing other dormitories, the science labs, metal and woodworking shops, music and arts departments, computer suite, needlkework and crafts classrooms, the students teaching kitchens the main kitchens, professors lodgings and a host of other facilities all of which had grown seemingly organically over literally centuries. <br><br>Up the lower slopes of the valley were the formal gardens, kitchen garden, fish ponds, parkland, farmland and woodland which served to grow and graze much of the vegetables and livestock this microcosm of a community required to feed itself, and to provide open spaces for the students to exercise and relax among the many paths and grassy dells.<br><br>Belamward was a vast, sprawling, gothic maze, at once smoothly efficient, steeped in tradition and thoroughly confusing to freshmen students. This latter was partly intentional; the design being to test the young arrivals into decision making, gaining confidence and a measure of self-reliance.<br><br>Sadly, Lesley Uttoxeter Wingate had only residual traces of all three.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>She did however have one gift. She was an avid reader. She would read anything and everything, from Proust and Kierkegaard to Jeremy Clarkson and the lists of E-numbers on the back of her Wheeties box. Lesley had read the acceptance pack that Belamward had addressed to her parents from cover to cover. Four times. And then once more, just in case. In there was a map of the school and that map was now ingrained in her head like the cuneiform script of the Rosetta Stone.<br><br>Once she knew where Hartley Hall was, she’d be fine. Given that known reference point she could navigate anywhere.<br><br>She just had to locate that reference point. The fair-haired senior student’s all encompassing wave hadn’t given the slightest clue as to which doorway Lesley needed. In a rising panic she set off across the Quad in a random direction burdened by her vast steamer trunk like a lost worker ant with an ambitious slice of leaf. She knew she’d got it horribly wrong when she reached the first flight of six steps. It took her fully a third of her precious remaining fifteen minutes just to negotiate this obstacle.<br><br>Due to the distraction at the bursar’s office it hadn’t even occurred to her that students luggage should be left there and was sent up to the correct dorm room by one of the small army of college servants, not even the fact that of all the students pouring past her slight struggling figure in a happy chattering crowd, not one of whom had any luggage, struck her as odd.<br><br>Inside the shady colonnade she turned off along a corridor to find a staircase at the bottom of which was a polished brass plaque advising her that above her were to be found Westlake, Beauchamp and Wirral Halls. Putting her sore hand back to the straps of her trunk, she set off once more.<br><br>After ten of her fifteen minutes she knew it was hopeless. If she could only locate Hartley she’d be home and dry, but her crushing shyness made it impossible for her to ask directions and when she turned a corner only to be silently and mockingly told by a brass plaque that up this staircase were to be found&nbsp; Westlake, Beauchamp and Wirral Halls she realised she’d gone full circle and simply dumped the trunk down, sat dejectedly onto it and though she wanted to burst into tears, made a determined effort not to. Lesley was many things, not all of them positive, but one thing she was not, was a cry-baby.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Then, with less than two of her precious minutes remaining, Lesley was saved. She saw a pair of shiny brogues and grey turned-up flannels step into her view. Upon hearing a kind voice she looked up to see a dark haired young man standing before her. Pinned to the lapel of his smart maroon blazer was a gold badge with PREFECT stamped on it under an enamelled school crest.<br><br>“What are you doing?” he asked in a smooth beautiful home-counties tone.<br><br>“I’m lost!” Lesley choked back, “I can’t find Hartley!”<br><br>“Hartley?” rejoined the boy, in a tone that seemed to indicate he knew something about that word which she did not. Lesley recalled that the confident fair-haired girl had said something about Hartley in a similar tone.<br><br>“Yes, Hartley Hall, I’m rooming there, and I can’t find it! Do you know where it is?”<br><br>“Oh, yes,” he replied, “Everyone knows about Hartley.”<br><br>Again his tone puzzled her and her sharp mind noted that he hadn’t actually answered her question. She frowned.<br><br>“What I was wondering was,” he went on, “What on earth are you doing with that?”<br><br>She looked up at him as he pointed at her trunk.<br><br>“My things,” she confessed, pathetically, and rather obviously.<br><br>“You’re going to take that to Hartley?” he said, folding his arms and smiling.<br><br>“I’ve got to!” she bleated, “And I’ve got to get to assembly…” she checked her watch and audibly moaned, “Right now!”<br><br>The boy merely smiled, it was partly a kind smile and partly one of amusement.<br><br>“You’re not aware where Hartley is are you?”<br><br>“What? No, of course not!”<br><br>“It’s on the top floor of the west range.”<br><br>“Thank you! Oh, thank you!” she stood up and reached for the trunk strap.<br><br>“It’s reached by a spiral stair.”<br><br>“That’s not a problem, I can haul this up.”<br><br>“No you can’t,” he calmly contradicted her.<br><br>“I can! I’m strong enough!”<br><br>“What I meant was, I won’t let you,” arms still folded and still smiling, the boy was clearly enjoying his position of knowledge and hers of ignorance.<br><br>“What?” she said, flustered.<br><br>“What I mean is, it’s my duty to stop you.” That smooth smile continued.<br><br>“I… I don’t understand,” she gawped at him in rising annoyance and panic, her eyes straying again to her watch. It was time. She was late.<br><br>“What I’m saying is students are not permitted to take luggage up the stairs. It’s seventeenth century oak panelling. Very valuable. These are grade one listed buildings.”<br><br>“I’ll be careful!” Lesley was at her wits end.<br><br>“And in any case,” he finally revealed smugly, “Behind the bursar’s office where you should have left that, is a service corridor where right now porters are pushing trolleys loaded with student luggage along to the service lift that accesses the top floors whereby all suitcases, portmanteaux, carpet bags, trunks, rucksacks, cases, musical instruments, bodybags, parrots in cages, duffel bags, tuck boxes, heavy artillery, satchels, hampers and…” he looked pointedly at Lesleys huge trunk, “<em>coffins</em> are despatched as part of the college service.” His smile returned fully now. “You should not even have that with you. Leave it. Come with me.”<br><br>He stood back and calmly indicated a direction with one hand. Lesley stood up.<br><br>“I’ll get one of the porters to move it. Which room are you in?”<br><br>“Uhm, I’m sorry, I don’t know.”<br><br>“Who’s your D?”<br><br>“Pardon?”<br><br>“Your D, what’s her name? I’m guessing you do have a D and not an S?” his cheeky but by now quite infuriating grin returned with a rather cruel sparkle in addition. Lesley merely stared at him blankly, thoroughly confused as to why he’d suddenly launched into an arcane code. This was no time for a World War Two cipher-breaking lesson.<br><br>“I’m sorry…” was all she could manage, staring at her feet and concerned she might have had the misfortune to bump into the college lunatic.<br><br>“Oh dear,” the college lunatic said, “Oh dear, oh dear. You <em>are</em> going to have fun in Hartley. A lot. Look,” he changed the direction of the conversation completely, “Don’t worry about it. Just leave that here. I’ll arrange to get it up to Hartley for you and have it left in the corridor. After assembly your D will find you, get your room number from her, then you can take it in. Look sharp though, because after assembly you’ll only have an hour to unpack and change before dinner. Now, come with me.”<br><br>Allowing herself to be led away from her precious trunk, and rather sweaty and red-faced and sore and tousle-haired, Lesley followed the young man. They went along a corridor, turned a corner and stopped at a pair of huge arched studded doors like those to a church. Carefully and quietly cracking one of them no more than eighteen inches open, the prefect beckoned her in.<br><br>“Sit there,” he whispered, “And shut up.”<br><br>He pointed at a wooden bench. Lesley sat. Lesley shut up.<br><br>She was at the back of a huge hall, dark with ancient wood panelling. To one side was a gigantic stone fireplace, it’s mantle twice as high as her head with under it two inglenooks each big enough for a romantic table for two. Above her several chandeliers as big as hot air balloons hung from vast high soot-stained rafters and cast a warm soft glow from their hundreds of low wattage bulbs. At the far end on a raised dais underneath a vast and beautiful stained glass window, a line of professors sat at a long polished table. The room was full of students of about her age all sat on wooden benches facing the dais. Stood in the centre behind the long oak table was a portly man in a black gown. He was speaking.<br><br>Beside her she caught part of a whispered conversation between the prefect who’d found her and a tall blonde straight-haired girl in a long black skirt who also wore a gold badge pinned on her magnificent bust.<br><br><em>“Late arrival… caught her trying to haul a trunk up to Hartley…”<br><br>“Pfft, stupid moo.”<br><br>“Hm, had no idea about anything, not even what a D or S was…”<br><br>“No!...”<br><br>“Hardly seems possible does it, eighteen and so ignorant…”<br><br>“I bet Miss Sheena will have caught wind of her.”<br><br>“Oh, God, if she has…”<br><br>“Poor cow…”</em><br><br>Lesley did not like eavesdropping and this was one conversation she very much wished she hadn’t overheard.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>20-06-2008, 01:22:55</strong>
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				It's probable that the freshman assembly itself did very little to assuage Lesley's poor first impressions of the school. Having ascertained her status the precepts utterly failed to extend to the woman a vestige of common courtesy. Perhaps a Hartley resident herself, or perhaps simply acting out of pure spite, the tall blonde prefect wasted no time in taking charge of things. After exiting her conversation she snapped her fingers idly in Lesley's direction, calling "Stand up, shut up, follow" over her shoulder. Not bothering to see whether her commands were followed, she turned neatly on her heels and walked briskly to the Freshman assembly.<br><br>"Got a late arrival for you," she informed the doorman, jerking her thumb behind her as she drawled "The stupid cow DID manage to keep up with me, didn't she?" After a quick glance to assure herself that an advanced (or at least half-hearted) Freshman Search and Rescue operation was not necessary, she turned back to the doorman and smirked "Yes, cow followed nicely. In any event, it seems as if she's somebody's little Hartley S who lost herself between baggage collection and the residence hall. I don't think her D would take kindly to looking for her afterwards, so I figured I could bear to waste my time dragging her this far."<br><br>While the doorman seems to be rather less amused with the blonde prefect's attitude, his attention doesn't go beyond a sympathetic glance and a brisk nod towards the thick oak doors, behind which the beginnings of a speech can already be heard.<br><br>"You see that, cow?" sneers the blonde, pointing at the door and making quotation marks with her fingers as she slowly explains "This is a 'door'. It leads to the 'assembly hall', where you will 'sit your fat ass down and wait until it's over'. You won't speak, and you'll at least TRY not to bother anyone else until the assembly ends. After it ends, you may wait in your seat: I'll make sure your D knows where to find you, and she'll take over from there." Having finished her instructions she pretends to wipe sweat from her face, murmuring "My goodness, I don't envy her: you've been a little rat under my feet for less than five minutes, and I'm already sick of looking after you."<br><br>Having said that the girl pushes the oaken doors open and strolls into the assembly-in-progress, apparently expecting Lesley to follow. Once the girl is properly inside, the prefect points to the floor next to an empty seat and smugly instructs Lesley "Stop following. Sit. And you may continue to shut up. You will wait here until your D comes and gets you afterwards."<br><br>As the blonde paces away, her job apparently finished, the rest of the students spend several moments alternating their attention between Lesley and whichever academic official is currently delivering his canned speech at the moment. The spectacle quickly loses its novelty, however, and within a few minutes most of the attention has drifted away from Lesley and back to the speeches.<br><br>As the assembly concludes most of the students shoot out of their seats, rapidly seeking relief from the brief tedium of the assembly, and several women can be seen waiting, although most of them seem to prefer standing to sitting on the floor. Several look excited, others look scared, or demure, and any further observation of the situation is sharply cut short by the curvaceous, long-legged redhead that steps in front of Lesley, a smirk plastered across her features. "Les, right?" she asks, her eyes somewhat obviously darting across the girl's form as she reaches down to take a firm handful of the girl's shirt and hauls her clumsily to her feet. "I'm Maree, but that'll be 'Ms. Sheena' or 'Ma'am' to you. I'm your D, and I've been told that you're somewhat stupid, so I guess it's time to do some review: why don't you tell me about how you came to apply to Hartley? Those questionnaires, and the interview, and so forth?" She leaves the girl on her tiptoes for a moment before letting go of the shirt, absently ordering her "Sit down. Oh, yes, and you may speak. At least for now."<br><br>Still smirking she crosses her arms and waits for the girl's story, hoping she is capable of putting two and two together on her own. "Oh, by the way," she interrupts, glancing at the woman's small chest, "Why don't you be a good cow and lean forward while you're talking to me?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>20-06-2008, 17:22:35</strong>
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				She had only been sat there a minute or two and was still taking in her surroundings when the two prefects stood behind her by the door ceased their whispered assassination of her character.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Stand up, shut up, follow."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley glanced up quickly wondering who the tall blonde woman was being rude to now, only to discover with some shock that it was her. Again. She glanced round, several of the other freshman students were looking at Lesley and wondering what the fuss was.<br><br><em>Don’t do that! Don’t look at me!</em> Lesley hated attention, she’d caused enough curious looks when she’d been brought in late and hadn’t yet recovered from the embarrassment of that, and now <em>this</em>. As much in shock at being addressed that way as to get quickly away from the glances that Lesley imagined to be mocking as well as curious, she got up and followed the taller woman out the huge double doors again.<br><br>The woman in black strode off down a corridor. Confused <em>I’m in assembly! I just got here! Why are you…?</em> but not wanting again to be left behind in this perplexing place, Lesley followed. As they walked she studied the girl in front of her. She was very tall and slender, wonderfully so, she might even be almost six feet. Her long straight hair hung down her back fine and flowing, she wore a close fitting black top that Lesley, even with the one quick glance she’d taken earlier to note she wore a prefects badge, hadn’t failed to notice was clingy and accentuated a quite spectacular chest. The woman also wore a long flowing black skirt, calf length that swept from side to side as her hips rolled like a dark restless sea on a shore. Lesley shook her head and broke her gaze away from the flowing hips of her guide and made a few quick trotting paces to keep up.<br><br>It wasn’t that the tall prefect was walking quickly, she just had a long stride, but even though she seemed to flow wraith-like and effortless along the corridor without seeming to move, Lesley found her pace was just that little faster than her own normal, comfortable gait with the result that every dozen paces or so Lesley was obliged to make a small burst of little trotting steps to keep up, succeeding only in making herself look faintly ridiculous while doing so.<br><br>They went along some corridors and turned some corners and arrived at a pair of arched doors of heavy wood, iron-studded. The doors looked familiar. The man stood outside in what Lesley was beginning to realise was the school porter’s uniform was familiar too.<br><br><em>Wasn’t I here just a minute ago…?</em><br><br>Her wraith-like guide with the hips that flowed like the sea, who for some reason Lesley couldn’t tear her eyes away from, spoke to the porter. Lesley listened. Lesley flushed.<br><br><em>How dare you! So rude! You’re a prefect aren’t you? Set an example.</em><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"You see that, cow?"<br><br>"This is a 'door'. It leads to the 'assembly hall', where you will 'sit your fat ass down and wait until it's over'. You won't speak, and you'll at least TRY not to bother anyone else until the assembly ends. After it ends, you may wait in your seat: I'll make sure your D knows where to find you, and she'll take over from there."<br><br>"My goodness, I don't envy her: you've been a little rat under my feet for less than five minutes, and I'm already sick of looking after you."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley just gaped at her, stunned by her rudeness, her sheer… gah! Lesley was fuming, <em>How dare you? Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I’ll write to daddy… I’ll…</em> Totally aghast, and flushing red again, Lesley merely succeeded in looking like exactly the creature the tall woman was describing. Bovine like, Lesley shut her open mouth with an audible <em>dunk!</em> Had she repeated that action several times she would have looked exactly like a cow chewing the cud.<br><br>She had just been taken out of a Very Important Meeting where she needed to learn Vital Information about her new school (Lesley was a stickler for Vital Information; she would mentally file it away and grade it’s value for hours, and an opening speech about her future education by her year principal as well as any other professors, was, to her, definitely in the Moderate category, if not High-to-Moderate).<br><br>Still angry, her eyes glittering but choosing not to make a scene before she’d been here an hour, Lesley went back into the hall.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Stop following. Sit. And you may continue to shut up. You will wait here until your D comes and gets you afterwards."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> That weird code thing again. <strong>“What’s a ‘D’…?”</strong> Lesley began to ask but cut off her enquiry. Even her soft hesitant voice was enough to cause those who had turned their heads round <em>again</em> to stare and her question elicited several widened eyes and raised eyebrows.<br><br><em>“She doesn’t know what a D is…”<br><br>“Really?”<br><br>“Poor moo, she’ll find out.”<br><br>“Yeah…”<br><br>“But what’s she doing here then?”<br><br>“Twat.”</em><br><br>The whispered voices trailed off but two girls sat a few seats away looked round at her, turned away again, put their heads together and giggled.<br><br>Lesley, blushing rather a lot today, found herself doing it again. She sat staring at her knees, fuming, embarrassed, hating the attention and disoriented by the bizarre pointless circular journey and rudeness of the willowy blonde. Or maybe it wasn’t just her rudeness that had disoriented her..?<br><br>The assembly ended and people got up. Lesley sat still wondering if the scary woman or maybe the college lunatic would be back. She turned in her seat, considering how long she might need to wait for this mysterious ‘D’ to find her when she noted a general falling off of chatter and that miscellaneous hubbub that always seems to permeate large groups even though one might not see anyone specifically making those noises. But in a moment it was as though she were in some small invisible pressure bubble, one that excluded all external sound<br><br>She looked up, and kept looking up… up… tilting her head far back. The person in front of her was tall, not as tall as the blonde woman but tall nonetheless. As she looked up, by the natural fact of her physiology her pale throat was exposed.<br><br>Lesley Uttoxeter Wingate and Maree Sheena met.<br><br>For a strange time, a time that had no length, and was over in an instant, yet also seeming to go on like a strand of ever-stretching toffee chewed to creamy softness and pulled warm from a mouth, this moment ran on and on… in it Lesley sat quite still, unable to think about anything. In it too the other half of this soon to be notorious duo stood looking down at Lesley at that acute angle that her height advantage gave her.<br><br>Silence, and an odd calm, quite alien to the moment, pure and exquisite and somehow foreboding, filled Lesley’s heart.<br><br>Going back over her time at Belamward much later, Categorizing Things as she was wont to do, Lesley privately and rather proudly placed this tiny instant of time, before Maree Sheena, or Ma’am as she came to think of her, uttered a single sound, as one of the Most Important Things Ever in her life.<br><br><em>The Day I Met You,</em> was for ever after how she remembered this day, not the day she started college but the day she met the person who changed her life.<br><br>Why she came to think of this meeting in that way, I shall now tell you. All that I’ve written up until now is merely a preface, an introduction. Lesley Wingate’s entire eighteen years and eleven months up until this instant should be considered that.<br><br>For it is now that her story starts, for without Maree Sheena, there is no story, there is no Lesley Wingate. That is simply how it is.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Les, right?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Hello, Lesley actually, Lesley W…”</strong> The girl froze as a hand gripped her white cotton blouse front and lifted her up. Once again Lesley experienced a sudden and shocking emotion that she hadn’t in a million years expected to taste on her first day at her new college.<br><br>Fear.<br><br>Lesley found herself standing, yet still looking up at the woman before her. Around her that pressure bubble of silence had vanished. In fact around her <em>everything</em> had vanished. She and this tall woman were quite alone. That fact didn’t even surprise her, though the fact that it <em>didn’t</em>, did, if you understand. Lesley was surprised at her lack of surprise.<br><br><strong>“Uh, your hand… er, excuse me…”</strong><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I'm Maree, but that'll be 'Ms. Sheena' or 'Ma'am' to you. I'm your D, and I've been told that you're somewhat stupid, so I guess it's time to do some review: why don't you tell me about how you came to apply to Hartley? Those questionnaires, and the interview, and so forth?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Uh…? D…?”</strong> Here it was again, Lesley knew she was missing something. All these people were talking about ‘D’ in a way that showed it was common knowledge here. Except for her.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Sit down. Oh, yes, and you may speak. At least for now."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Her head and heart a fast-beating whirl of confusion, fear, surprise-at-not-being-surprised and anger at the physical abuse of her personal space, Lesley sat. The assault seemed hardly worth arguing about.<br><br><em>For it was…. No, put that aside, Lesley, not now!</em><br><br>She’d been bullied at her old school because she was a loner, she’d been called horrible names that even now she shut out and refused to recall. In her past life the bullying had been limited to name calling, talking and sniggering behind her back and the occasional mutilation or graffiti in her schoolbooks or ripped uniforms. Lesley had not responded to any of it.<br><br>Or had she? Had she in fact not been the victim of it, but by her continued withdrawal away from sports and other social activities actually caused it? <em>Wanted</em> it? Was it not that she’d been bullied because she was a loner, <em>but rather become a loner because she wanted to be bullied?</em> That idea she pushed away, it was… ridiculous.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>“Questionnaires, yes, I like filling those in, I…”</strong> She knew at once that that wasn’t the answer being sought, <strong>“I think, uh….it was the bullying. Before. I was thinking about that…”</strong> <em>and wondering if there would be more… here.</em> Lesley felt blood rushing up under the surface of her skin again and looked down at her hands that lay twisting in her lap.<br><br>Lesley didn’t know who this woman was, her demeanour wasn’t that of a professor, certainly. She might be a prefect, or she might be… Lesley put that thought away too.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Oh, by the way," <em>a sneering voice came in shattering her train of thought,</em> "Why don't you be a good cow and lean forward while you're talking to me?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley hardly heard her, she suddenly had a question of her own and while a niggling little alarm bell was clanging at her, suggesting it was quite the wrong thing to do, something almost <em>needy</em> burned bright inside her and before she knew what she was doing she stood up, her hands fists at her sides.<br><br>Glaring at this rude woman, <strong>“What’s a ‘D’?”</strong> she blurted out, rather too loudly, loudly enough so that had the pressure bubble that she had imagined, still been here, even that would not have prevented her sharp, slightly panicky question from reaching the ears of several students around them. And right now, at the sound of a freshman sub, and a stupid one at that talking back to Maree Sheena, quite a lot of people suddenly took an interest in this, soon to be quite entertaining, cameo. If Lesley Wingate hated attention, she had just made A Very Bad Move Indeed.<br><br>Her follow up: <strong>“And why are you all so rude to me?”</strong> was pretty much the icing on the cake.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>21-06-2008, 09:15:01</strong>
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				Misery loves company, but not nearly as much as Ms. Sheena. Her tendency to loudly and publicly demonstrate&nbsp; precisely what position girls under her occupied was a major contributor to the immense recognition she earned from the rest of the dorm during her first year, and the publicity promised by Lesley's outburst made the thought of putting on a show irresistable.<br><br>"Short, stupid, <strong>and</strong> overweight?" Maree wondered aloud, casually shoving the shorter girl back with an offhanded "You can sit as you're told, or I can ask one of these nice ladies from the audience to come and sit on your chest until you pass out. Which would YOU prefer?"<br><br>The manner in which Maree cheerily continues to speak regardless of Lesley's reaction marks her as a fan of the one-sided, so-called conversation that the blonde prefect already introduced the freshman to during their walk around the compound. "I don't feel like hearing your whiny questions for the rest of the year," the curvaceous redhead continues, "And there's probably some kind of 'de-stupify your shrill, retarded cow of a roommate' clause in our dorm agreements, so I'll line the facts up in a way that I hope you can comprehend."<br><br>Having restated the situation for any curious onlookers Maree proceeds to sit her sizable form on Maree's hips, reaching down to paw casually at front of the sub's blouse and snapping "Stand still: if I have to waste my time on this stupid explanation, the least you could do is provide the entertainment. Now, since you apparently haven't read your own enrollment agreement, I guess I should start by telling you that Hartley is a themed dorm of sorts. The theme, of course, is the fun kind, and to suffice it to say we get grouped into two categories upon our arrival: Doms, like myself, who get to waste our time whipping the stupid out of Subs, like the cow here." As she speaks she gives Lesley's right breast a cruel squeeze, apparently attempting to punctuate her statement. "You get free housing, free food, and a very sizable tuition break in return for agreeing to the house rules. And since you tested out as an S, that means that you agree to MY rules. You break rank, and you get the boot."<br><br>"You don't have to take my word for it," she murmurs, removing her hands from the smaller woman's chest only to begin methodically slapping her cheek, punctuating each blow with a word: "Ask. Any. Girl. Here. And. She'll. Tell. You. The. Same."<br><br>"See, isn't that better?" she coos, inspecting the abused cheek, "I always thought this would be cute to try with a blusher: whatever doesn't turn red on its own will once I apply my own natural 'charms'". At the word "charms" she levels one last, sharp blow to the victimized woman's cheek, clearing her throat and carefully standing up as she continues "Now that we've reviewed what Cow should have known already, I suppose I'll offer you a choice: you may either apologize to me, and to every other woman whose time you have cruelly abused with this debacle, and I'll take you up to your room and break you in as gently as I know how. If you persist on acting like a complete plank, however, I think I might be tempted to spend the rest of the year showing you exactly what your situation looks like."<br><br>"Oh, and by the way," she cuts in, shooting an unabashedly interested look towards the girl, "Take off your dress: until I tell you otherwise, you are not to address me or any other woman in anything more than your underwear. If you are clothed, and someone else speaks to you, I'm sure she will be happy to wait while you undress before responding."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>22-06-2008, 00:18:20</strong>
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				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Short, stupid, <em>and</em> overweight?"<br><br>"You can sit as you're told, or I can ask one of these nice ladies from the audience to come and sit on your chest until you pass out. Which would YOU prefer?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <em>Don't touch me like that! You've no right!</em> Lesley failed to respond to the taller girl's question, in any case she had the feeling she didn't want an answer, she just wanted to hear the sound of her own voice. Bullies usually did.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I don't feel like hearing your whiny questions for the rest of the year and there's probably some kind of 'de-stupify your shrill, retarded cow of a roommate' clause in our dorm agreements, so I'll line the facts up in a way that I hope you can comprehend."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> By this point the insults were coming so fast that Lesley knew what this was. Bullying. All over again. Her heart tumbled madly inside her chest and her throat suddenly seemed too tight to breathe through, behind her thick-rimmed glasses her eyes widened, just like a deer's will the last few seconds before it discovers that the front fender of a speeding eighteen-wheeler is a lot harder than it's skull. But by then it's too late, the deer is helpless and frozen in place. Just like Lesley was. Mouth opening in sympathy with her eyes she could only sit there looking up in dismay, the small thought <em>"Where are the professors? Why don't they help me?"</em> making her fear grow even more steeply.<br><br>Then, to prove that Lesley wasn't actually that stupid, something clicked.<br><br><em>"Roommate"</em><br><br>This awful woman was...<br><br><em>She's my roommate? Not some random bored bully who came across me at the wrong time in the wrong place? I'll be LIVING with her? Oh, no... no, no that's not right... it can't be!"</em> The deer by now was well and truly frozen; the eighteen-wheeler merely feet away...<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Stand still: if I have to waste my time on this stupid explanation, the least you could do is provide the entertainment. Now, since you apparently haven't read your own enrollment agreement, I guess I should start by telling you that Hartley is a themed dorm of sorts. The theme, of course, is the fun kind, and to suffice it to say we get grouped into two categories upon our arrival: Doms, like myself, who get to waste our time whipping the stupid out of Subs, like the cow here."<br><br>"You get free housing, free food, and a very sizable tuition break in return for agreeing to the house rules. And since you tested out as an S, that means that you agree to MY rules. You break rank, and you get the boot."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> This was worse, MUCH worse than at Saint Bart’s, there it had been subtle stuff, nasty but non-confrontational. As she was pushed back down and sat on, Lesley began to panic, the woman was bigger than her, she was heavy and as her weight crushed her thighs, Lesley let out a gasp of discomfort. She gave up thinking if a professor might come and help, she gave up wondering if anyone would help, she even gave up worrying about people around her watching. Which for her was unheard of. Which meant Lesley Wingate was in a situation more awful than even her embarrassment at being the centre of attention caused her to feel. And that was saying something. It was saying a lot. Suddenly Lesley Wingate's entire world consisted of her hurting body and this woman who was pressed against her, her eyes blazing, her wrath so obvious it made Lesley physically flinch.<br><br>Then Lesley's world consisted of one more thing, this thing was more shocking that everything that had preceded it. Her chest was grabbed and painfully squeezed. She whimpered in pain and embarrassment, <strong>"Ow! Don't! Don't touch me there!"</strong> her hands came up to defend herself but were easily slapped away, it wasn't just the strength of the slap but the vehemence with which it was delivered. Lesley cringed back and suffered her chest to be obscenely mauled.<br><br><em>Worse than at St. Bart's... much worse, oh God, oh, no...<br><br>Oh... again...?</em><br><br>Then the slapping started, by now the poor cringing girl had completely forgotten what the taller woman was saying, her world consisted only of pain and fear and shame. The deer and the eighteen-wheeler connected. And, as is usual in such situations, two things resulted: the eighteen-wheeler won easily; the deer came out of the confrontation in rather less than tip-top condition.<br><br><strong>"Stop it, please... stop, stop that, just..."</strong> Her face was bright red, not only the blood vessels under the skin of the abused cheek were filling as the body's natural protective mechanism to cushion the organs and joints beneath from the blows but the rest of her face and neck also.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I always thought this would be cute to try with a blusher: whatever doesn't turn red on its own will once I apply my own natural 'charms'"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley's head jerked to one side from the force of the last slap which cracked loudly enough so almost everyone in the hall was now watching. Once again Maree Sheena was doing well what she does so well, showing the school how the best kind of Dom earns the best kind of reputation. No messing about here, no pansying with a few little taps, some half-assed insults and a quick hand down a girls panties, oh, no. This was abuse, good and proper. This was eighteen-wheeler meets deer confrontation. A few subs watching nearby gasped, partly in shock at the treatment Lesley was receiving and not a few in envy. It was clear that if Lesley failed to satisfy Maree, the older woman would have no trouble finding a replacement.<br><br>Lesley let her head droop, she hadn't cried out and she hadn't burst into tears. That wasn't her style. She wasn't stupid either, not that she thought this woman really did think she was stupid. No, Lesley Wingate wasn't stupid at all. Quite the opposite in fact. The taller woman got off her, she sighed silently as her thighs ceased being crushed. Her tormentor spoke.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Now that we've reviewed what Cow should have known already, I suppose I'll offer you a choice: you may either apologize to me, and to every other woman whose time you have cruelly abused with this debacle, and I'll take you up to your room and break you in as gently as I know how. If you persist on acting like a complete plank, however, I think I might be tempted to spend the rest of the year showing you exactly what your situation looks like."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Still looking down and away, and as the hall fell silent a tiny thin voice broke the quiet.<br><br><strong>"I'm..."<br><br>"I'm sorry."</strong><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Take off your dress: until I tell you otherwise, you are not to address me or any other woman in anything more than your underwear. If you are clothed, and someone else speaks to you, I'm sure she will be happy to wait while you undress before responding."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <em>What?</em> This was too much, even Lesley knew there were limits, bullying was bullying, she'd heard of other girls being beaten up, sometimes badly, but you can't go round school in your underwear! That's insane! The professors would surely put a stop to it!<br><br><strong>"I... I can't... I can't do that. I've said sorry, I mean it! But you can't make me strip! I won't!"</strong> She just could not meet the other girls gaze, her face still bright red she hung her head and just darted fearful looks up at her tormentor in deer-like apprehension 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>08-07-2008, 11:24:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				A sigh can be just as effective as a scream, and in the stark, silent aftermath that followed Lesley’s assertion such a sigh was all Maree needed to reassert herself as the center of attention. “Poor little thing,” she muses, dispassionately staring down at the deeply flushed girl, “I can make you, or anybody else, do practically anything I want you to do. However, I most certainly don’t want to rip your clothes off of you as if you were a half-trained monkey. If I don’t train you early and thoroughly I’ll end the year with the same brainless fucktoy I began it with.” <br><br>Neatly folding her hands on her ample hips the profane young woman seems to tower over Lesley, her confidence easily making her several magnitudes larger in the eyes of observers. “Believe me, little girl,” she continues, somehow managing to articulate an immense amount of scorn into the simple phrase, “If I wanted to force someone, I would have, and in fact I have, lain with women much more suitable for such a situation than you.”<br><br>A sudden silence punctuates Maree’s assertion, the girl falling silent just when her rant seemed to be getting interesting. “I think I see the problem,” she finally continues, her voice losing its theatrical edge and taking on a somewhat upbeat quality that would unnerve distant acquaintances and outright frighten those who had the dubious luck to be well-acquainted with the domme. “You don’t seem to know exactly what kind of trouble you’re getting into by refusing simple commands, so I think I’ll give you an object lesson.” Smirking, she turns and gestures to a figure beyond Lesley’s field of view, one which eventually resolves into the blonde prefect. “Hold this one down,” Maree drawls, pointing at Lesley, “Just no marks, and no fussing with her clothing; I want to give her an object lesson in disobedience, and the perfect assistants just walked by.”<br><br>Her vague edict having been issued Maree quickly slips out, trusting the prefect to keep order in her absence. It’s impossible to tell how much time passes, particularly as Lesley’s willingness to cooperate and the prefect’s enthusiasm for her newfound role could make two to three minutes seem like a lifetime.<br><br>In any event, Maree eventually returns with two women in tow, neither of whom look particularly amused. “Allow me to introduce Madalyn and her S, Ainsley,” she states, glancing at each of the two girls in turn.<br><br>Madelyn has a reputation for being a somewhat more sensuous D than Maree, and it certainly shows: the tall woman sports a head of curly purple hair that has been artfully sculpted into two elaborately braided pigtails that nicely frame the thin glasses perched on her face, and anybody standing near her for even the briefest moment would catch hint of the numerous faint, cleverly mixed perfumes and oils that have been applied to her hair and skin. None of the scents stand out on their own, but combined they manage to fuse into an alluring, oddly heavy fragrance.<br><br>As elaborate and ostentatious as her hair and scents are, however, Madelyn’s garments are quite simple, almost utilitarian in design, cut from an absurdly expensive cloth and tailored to accentuate the woman’s curvaceous, well-toned form without taking attention from her hair and scents.<br><br><br>Ainsley, on the other hand, seems to be an exercise in neglect: what could have been luxurious blonde hair has been cropped close, and the pale, almost shimmering skin of her face and arms is liberally smeared with patches of mud and grease that lend her a somewhat pathetic demeanor.<br><br>The thin girl’s uniform is an equally pathetic affair, the mess of patchwork garments and ill-mended holes making her look more like a beggar than a student. The only truly noteworthy element of her entire ensemble is the thick silver and leather collar latched around her neck, which features such impeccable workmanship as to suggest that it was custom-made at a staggeringly high price.<br><br>Neither woman seems to shy from the crowd’s attention, but the manner in which most of the students quickly shift their attention back to Maree suggests that neither of the new arrivals are considered to be particularly outlandish by their peers.<br><br>As for Maree herself she seems to be entirely unaware of the annoyed and increasingly impatient stares she’s been receiving from both women: she’s in the midst of a performance, and at this point she seems to be blind to everything unrelated to the personal exhibition she’s turned the affair into. Stepping towards the two girls with a well-practiced strut she lays a seemingly familiar hand on the bespectacled girl’s shoulder, smiling sweetly as her arm is roughly pushed away. “Mmm, Madelyn tried to make me her bitch girl last year,” she explains in a stage murmur, pacing around the purple-haired topic of the moment, “And she might have even succeeded, but you never really had enough stamina to push the seduction as far as it needed to go, hmm?” As Maree switches to addressing Madelyn directly the crowd’s interest seems to follow, giving Lesley a moment of respite from attention with the exception of her blonde captor. <br><br>“What the hell is going on in that thick head of yours?” Madelyn demands, swiveling in pace to keep Maree in sight as the diminutive Ainsley looks on mutely, “And what the hell did you need to call us out here? I’m not in the mood to play the ornament to your latest piece of staged bullshit.”<br><br>Those better versed in the fine subtleties of body language and mannerisms might witness an odd sense of giving and receiving exchanged between the two women, and as Maree, still in mid-rant, persists in her attempts to touch or stroke Madelyn’s arms and cheeks, it becomes increasingly obvious to the rest of the crowd that the purple-haired domme is slowly becoming less effective in slapping the probing hands away, allowing a digit to linger for a split second or habitually leaning into the odd caress.<br><br>Maree’s offbeat reference to stamina seems to have been oddly close to the mark, as she manages to quickly coax Madelyn’s defenses down to the point that the girl almost accepts the unwanted attention willingly and, in the middle of their oddly captivating dance, she moves as if to caress the smartly-dressed woman, waiting for her to close her eyes in anticipation of the gesture before delivering a sharp slap in it’s place.<br><br>A stunned (or at least, surprised) silence descends in the wake of the ringing blow, shock fighting with anger and something else as Madelyn’s features contort. Maree cuts any protest short, however, quickly darting her face forward to plant a sharp kiss on the other woman’s pursed, angry lips. “Here’s how it works,” she whispers, her voice harshly carrying throughout the building. “You’re going to undress down to your panties, and you will lay across Cow’s lap, where I am going to spank, and if necessary belt you until I feel you’ve had enough.<br><br>Still acting as if enraptured in a dreamlike state the statuesque Madelyn slowly moves to comply, her fingers hesitating only a split second before she quickly unbuttons her blouse and unhooks the lacey front-closure bra revealed underneath. “Hmm, good girl,” Maree murmurs, reaching down to softly caress the girl’s tanned waistline even as she whispers “You’d better get that skirt off, before I whip it off of you.”<br><br>Caught somewhat off guard, it seems as if practically the entire gathering stands shocked and silent as Maree glibly guides one of the most feared women on campus down to her knees and then to her stomach, carefully laying the girl over Lesley’s stomach that she might participate, to an extent, in the exercise allegedly coined for her benefit.<br><br>The exercise itself was surprisingly tame considering the lead-in, as if the spanking acted as salve to assuage the sting that arose from actual act of one domme submitting to the other. While nothing special, Maree’s style as she administered the punishment was undeniably educational: rather than resorting to pure brutality she insisted on slow, oddly spaced strokes, often taking the time to rub Madelyn’s panty-clad curves in front of Lesley’s eyes, or leaning forward to whisper phrases the girl’s ear which were, judging by the manner in which her tanned face quickly grew flush with blood, unbelievably degrading.<br><br>As slow as the bulk of Maree’s attentions were, her conclusion was sufficient to draw gasps of outrage or envy, and in fact probably elicited both: having thoroughly tanned her captive’s cotton-clad buttocks she gestured Ainsley over and removed the girl’s belt. The belt found itself being put to the obvious use, and with no preamble to speak of Maree proceeded to brutally strap the top’s back and arms. The finale couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but Maree’s sheer excess and enthusiasm was more than enough to raise a veritable cavalcade of bruises and welts on the exposed back. <br><br>The demonstration having ended Maree seems to lose interest, boredly nudging Madelyn with her toe as she drawls “Get off of my S, you turd. If slave wishes to serve, she will remain dressed as she is all day. She will come to our dorm this evening, lower her panties, and knock on the door, at which point Cow will either welcome her, or be welcomed by her, depending on how well she learns today’s lesson.”<br><br>As the topic returns to Lesley Maree seems to finally recall, in full, the point of the exercise, her indulgence with an apparent old adversary having distracted her enough to give the blonde prefect a long period “tending” to her ward. “Hmmm, I’m glad you’ve taken care of my S for me,” she murmurs, casually shoving the prefect away as she lowers herself on top of Lesley again, throatily growling “Now ask yourself, cow, Am I still somebody who you want to disobey? I knew you were a stupid, incompetent thing, but I didn’t think you would be this unreasonable. Is there something that I’m missing? A signal, or a sign?” The curvaceous woman continues to think out loud, speculating idly until a sudden thought puts a stop to her monologue and brings a malicious gleam to her eyes. “Oh, honey, I know what’s wrong,” she murmurs, her tone thick and sultry as she slowly leans forward to softly lay her body on top of Lesley’s, using the girl as an improvised lounge. “You’re the type who likes being undressed by others, aren’t you?” she whispers sweetly, pausing to harshly bite a pale earlobe before continuing “It’s alright, some girls are like that. Some enjoy being persuaded, some like the feeling of submission that comes when somebody else takes their clothing from them. In any event, I don’t want you to think I’m completely heartless: if you’re uncomfortable disrobing yourself, I’ll be happy to play your little fantasy out for you.” The larger woman is quite a convincing actor, and several of the sadistic smirks displayed by curious onlookers morph into blushes, the intimate, seemingly romantic scene clashing heavily with the setting in which Maree is carrying her act out. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into,” the larger woman whispers, her plush form grinding subtly against the stick-thin Lesley as she reaches down and cruelly squeezes both of her victim’s thin arms. “I’ll play into your little fantasy and undress you, but in return you’re going to play into mine and let me turn every square inch of exposed flesh bright pink.”<br><br>Maree’s mouth twists cruelly and her body language returns to normal as the sickeningly sweet explanation reveals her ploy for what it is, the woman standing and dusting her hands off as she demands “Well, cow? Are you going to be a good little S and do what she’s told, or would you rather be a disobedient little cunt who gets exactly what she deserves?”
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>09-07-2008, 23:09:48</strong>
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				<em>“…make do practically anything I want…” “…half-trained monkey…” “…brainless fucktoy…” “…I have lain with women…”</em><br><br>The words and the tone in which they were delivered was more awful than any number of slaps, or any amount of painful squeezing of her chest. Lesley visibly flinched as Maree spoke, she didn’t even <em>understand</em> some of the things she was hearing, though she could guess, and in that respect, not knowing and having her over-active imagination paint the awful prospect of what they <em>might</em> mean was far worse.<br><br><em>She’s my roommate… all year… this could go on all year…</em> Underneath the fear however, the shame and rising panic, there was something else, something even deeper and darker and beginning to grow like a fetid black sweating larvae, slimy, wriggling. It might grow inside her, hatch and then consume her like food… Lesley wouldn’t even admit that thing existed even though the flush on her face was in part caused by it.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I think I see the problem. You don’t seem to know exactly what kind of trouble you’re getting into by refusing simple commands, so I think I’ll give you an object lesson.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Maree went away but Lesley knew that could not be the end of it, in her heart she could sense that her tormentor was in fact, just getting into her stride. Unable to look up and face the gathered crowd, most of whom were now silent, only a few muttering in hushed awe, the smaller girl continued to stare at a piece of floor a foot in front of her toes, her body rigid and shuddering with small vibrations.<br><br><em>I’m going to get hit, beaten up, she’d going to hit me and get someone to hold me down</em> Lesley wondered in abject terror what it felt like to lose control of her bladder.<br><br>She was suddenly grabbed and pushed down, not back into her seat which, with the few others around where she’d been sitting, was hastily pushed aside, but flat on the floor on her back. At Maree’s command the tall blonde woman had grabbed her and was thrusting her to the floor.<br><br>It was the tall blonde woman in black: Agnetha van Oudenaarde was the head prefect of Morten Hall (there being a head and junior prefect in each dorm). A year senior to Ms. Sheena she was embarking on her third and last year at Belamward. She was Dutch and having an insatiable fetish for extreme bondage it was no surprise that, two years ago, her personality profiling had placed her in the dorm that specialised in physical restraint. Agnetha’s interests strayed towards the extreme end of that spectrum of delights, her preferred positions being full suspensions of various postures, the suspended hogtie being the most frequently used. Her victims, male or female, thighs scissored apart, ankles pulled achingly up and back, heads hanging down and issuing low moans of exhaustion and agony, strings of saliva dangling, being perfectly positioned for her to assault, repeatedly and violently with her favourite strap on accessories, being single pronged or double pronged as the mood took her and the gender of her victim might allow.<br><br>The present situation however, called for a much simpler hold and its effectiveness was both comfortable for her in her thick woollen stockings that cushioned her knees and gave sufficient restraint and a sense of claustrophobia to the victim to exactly serve the purpose she felt sure Ms. Sheena wanted.<br><br>And regarding what Ms. Sheena wanted… Agnetha was well placed to judge. She had what might be termed a relationship of largely mutual avoidance with Maree Sheena. Each had tested the other in Maree’s early days last September but with diverging (though not entirely exclusive) interests had agreed to disagree to the extent that neither would publicly assert dominance over the other. A mood of quiet avoidance and even grudging respect lay between the two women. In private though, it was on occasion different: Agnetha might spend an evening in Maree’s chamber or in some other location the red-head chose such as the gym store deep in the night, placing a sub into a suitably tormenting position of immobility for Maree to abuse at great length …and sometimes subsequently fuck at even greater length, Agnetha usually staying to watch, take photographs and enjoy some sloppy seconds. On other occasions, and seemingly because it merely amused her, Agnetha might agree to give up her will to Maree for a period of an afternoon or an evening, or all night and submit to the harsher girls whims – not because she was weaker, but that to have Maree Sheena in a position where she was happy was a far more agreeable arrangement than the reverse.<br><br>Lesley was pushed down flat on her back. Ms. van Oudenaarde laid her arms out over her head and knelt across them, not crushing them, but trapping them in that small gap under her shins formed between her outspread knees and her ankles. By resting with toes downwards the blonde woman could give Lesley’s pinned arms enough room to allow a regular blood supply to her wrists but by easing her weight a little and turning her toes outwards and resting back down she could choose any amount of weight to apply, even enough to make the younger girl’s wrist bones grind agonisingly together, Agnetha varying her posture and weight from time to time simply to avoid the onset of boredom.<br><br>Lesley, on her part, found herself staring up between the girls knees to the under swell of her bounteous bust. When it suited her, the blonde prefect looked down at her and smiling coldly, disconcertingly and tenderly ran a finger through her hair straightening it, the long black-painted fingernail sometimes applied with pressure that scratched her scalp and cheek or neck… Once or twice that miniature black knife point might trace down her throat and into the open neck of her blouse, slicing deeper under the cotton across the softer more tender flesh it found swelling there. Someone else whom Lesley didn’t see, on van Oudenaarde’s instructions, placed one of the bench seats at her outstretched and widely parted feet, passing her lower limbs though the gap between the underside of the seat and the stretcher bar that ran under it and gave the bench rigidity. The simple expedient of then tilting the low form on it’s side trapped Lesley’s ankles completely and, if someone should apply weight to the bench, very painfully indeed. Should a person stand on the form and jump up and down the prisoners ankles would without doubt be broken. Lesley couldn’t know that such crippling damage to her property would result in her owner making the life of the perpetrator very painful indeed, probably more disagreeable than having two broken ankles, making it highly unlikely that such agony would befall her, but that didn’t stop her imagination playing the possibility over and over in her mind like a sick horror movie trailer.<br><br>The terror of the possible was as effective a tool at crushing Lesley’s resistance as the terror of the actual.<br><br>Lesley’s field of vision was limited to the arc from her left to right sides and up to the rafters far above and bounded by her two silent captors. This cut out her view of much of the crowd that watched the unfolding display although enough faces filled her vision to remind her of her very public humiliation and of course the sounds that filled the room all reached her. Sickeningly so in many cases.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Lesley lay there panting and mentally squirming throughout the following awful and degrading performance. The woman whom Ms. Sheena introduced as Madelyn seemed at first to be as strong and wilful a personality as Lesley’s new roommate but the subsequent interaction totally captured Lesley’s attention. Apart from the pain on her wrists and ankles the degradation of Madelyn held her focused with a kind of sick trapped fascination.<br><br>What struck her most was the realisation that the social structure here was not divided into those who gave the orders and those who obeyed them, like the simple air/water interface of the ocean, but there were potentially infinite sub-stratae of relationships at work here, the dominant girls arranging themselves by simple power of personality into a complete hierarchy, an almost never ending finely graded series of layers much like the lines of sediment in a cliff face. It struck her that since personalities and circumstances might change, an unmoving fossil-bed analogy didn’t necessarily apply but the undercurrents of levels of willpower would make the players subtly change position in this revolting twisted royal court of courtesans like the differently heated or salted water layers in said ocean.<br><br>Lesley was quickly discovering the intricate world of domination and submission played out among the hormonally charged and unstable teenagers and young adults at Belamward. The miniature society of Hartley Hall would provide enough material for several doctorate theses. And more than enough for an excellent and highly profitable porn site.<br><br>When the purple-haired girl began to strip Lesley was shocked at how readily she seemed to acquiesce to Ms. Sheena’s superior status. She disrobed with almost no hesitation and showed no shame as her soft body was exposed to the watching crowd. It would seem that public nudity at Belamward was commonplace. What was unusual was that Lesley could not tear her eyes away. In the past when changing for PE lessons or in the line up for school medicals she had pointedly looked away from the other girls in awkward embarrassment, yet Madelyn’s shapely chest and narrow waist drew her gaze in a manner that Lesley could not understand – she didn’t understand why she could not look away, and she couldn’t understand why she found the sight so exciting. She found her gaze drawn unwittingly yet inexorably to the girl’s nipples, which were undoubtedly <em>not</em> soft, and the secret dome in the front of her panties, the material of which was thin enough to hint at the delicate crease beneath. Lesley flushed even redder as Madelyn knelt and prostrated her near nudity across the prone girl’s stomach, the warmth and softness of the other woman stirring in her a reaction she both found repulsive and strangely intoxicating.<br><br>While from the onlookers’ and Ms. Sheena’s point of view the actual physical abuse of Madelyn was nothing unusual, even tame, the effect it had on Lesley was catastrophic. Brought up in a household utterly lacking in physical correction and never even having heard the singularly resonant and meaty crack of leather strapped hard against flesh, Lesley found her self-control in free-fall. The first contacts of hand on bottom were nothing too alarming. What did strike Lesley, as Agnetha put her hands under the nape of her neck and lifted her head so as to allow - or rather force - her to watch the spanking, was that this did not seem so much a punishment, as a sort of reward. Between each blow Ms. Sheena’s hand would pause and caress the reddened skin, sweeping over the heated surface in an almost loving caress and from time to time the fingers would dip down inquisitively into the hollow between the buttocks, once or twice delving deeply and wiggling back and forth against some hidden part of the purple-haired girl Lesley could only guess at, although the movements of the prone body across her stomach were witness to emotions within the woman that were evidently not entirely centred on discomfort. As those long insistent fingers dipped and probed Maree would whisper unknown things to her captive and Madelyn’s response of deep blushes and once or twice – slight moans – made it plain what sort of words were being intoned so secretly and effectively.<br><br>During the strapping the sudden jerking movements of Madelyn against her stomach and her sharply cut off cries impressed Lesley immensely due to the obvious signs of self-control. But the sheer brutality of it, the speed of the repeatedly falling strokes caused Lesley to finally let go of all her furiously held assumptions about this place, she cast everything aside. There would be no help from the professors – for the professors had surely <em>designed</em> this hell-house; there was no restraint placed on these girls – they set their own rules and the society they built here was entirely their own hierarchical construction; anything was possible – Lesley’s overwrought imagination led her to not doubt for one second that somewhere within the bowels of Belamward right now blood was flowing and bones were cracking; Ms. Sheena could and would do all the things to Lesley that she threatened. It was only a minute’s strapping, but to the innocent girl forming Madelyn’s cushion it was hellish; sixty seconds of fundamental readjustment. <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Get off of my S, you turd. If slave wishes to serve, she will remain dressed as she is all day. She will come to our dorm this evening, lower her panties, and knock on the door, at which point Cow will either welcome her, or be welcomed by her, depending on how well she learns today’s lesson.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Ms. Sheena had called the proud and beautiful Madelyn a slave… had instructed her to spend the remainder of the day in just her panties… (presumably that included lessons, mealtimes and even perhaps PE), had ordered her to come to their room this evening with the veiled hint that either Lesley would be served by her – or serve her. Being placed lower in the ranking than the crushed woman whose humiliation Lesley had just witnessed was the final straw. The prone girl did not need any of the subsequent persuasion.<br><br>As Madelyn rose Lesley saw her face. Her yes were hooded, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed. Lower, her nipples were now as hard as pebbles and lower still… as the girl stepped over Lesley and away the small darker patch at the lowest curve of her panties told the shocked sub everything she needed to know about the feelings that the beating, those deep-dipping fingers and those whispered words had caused.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>It had taken a while but the lights finally came on for Lesley Wingate. Realisation that Madelyn was a domme who also liked to submit – and drew arousal from that act – made Lesley see a new aspect to the whole societal structure around her. With a flash of understanding as powerful as a religious conversion she understood that there might be dommes here with submissive streaks; there might be subs here who had a dominant streak over other subs… And there might even be present that rarest of creatures – a sub who does not even know they are a sub and who might have wandered into Belamward – and Hartley - without realising they were unconsciously seeking what their heart desired. There might be people in this world who hide away behind books and eschew friends, they might secretly welcome the attention of bullies and dwell in a dark hot place alone with the fear and bile-taste that bullying engenders, they might even, in a truly masochistic twist, push away girls who through simple actions of kindness&nbsp; - such as holding up a sheltering umbrella or offering a steadying hand on ice-frosted steps - demonstrate their love, only to subconsciously enjoy the ache of loss and heartbreak turning away such kindnesses might cause. That September afternoon, Lesley Uttoxeter Wingate, pinned painfully to the floor of the main hall of Belamward and gazing up at Ms. Sheena and the abused body of Madelyn Wynetor had what might be termed a species of Epiphany regarding her own self, what she was like, who she was and most importantly… what she wanted. <br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Ms. Sheena didn’t know it, but the rest of her performance, sadistic, polished and manipulative as it was, was quite redundant. Not only did Lesley break, but she found that in breaking there was a discovery of something so fundamentally alien yet at the same time so exciting to her that she realized her heart was pounding behind her ribs. As Ms. Sheena pushed the van Oudenaarde woman aside and lay atop her full length, sensuously wiggling her warm buxom form against Lesley’s more slender one, she could not know that she was literally preaching to the converted. As she dipped her mouth so enticingly close to Lesley’s face and roughly bit her earlobe Ms. Sheena did not fail to catch the low moan her S made – not a moan of fear or pain, a moan of excitement.<br><br>Finally as she got off her, as her face withdrew from close proximity with Lesley’s she might even have heard, whispered so low and so gently, not much more than a slowly released breath, the faintest of beseeched requests… <strong>“Kiss me.”</strong> <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Well, cow? Are you going to be a good little S and do what she’s told, or would you rather be a disobedient little cunt who gets exactly what she deserves?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> The girl who had assisted Agnetha, upon a sign from the blonde and sensing the scene was concluding, shifted away the bench pinning Lesley’s ankles.<br><br>Maree stood up. Lying there, knowing she was doomed and sensing that dark sweaty larvae inside her hatching and beginning its bitter work of eating away the host body around it, Lesley spoke.<br><br>Her voice was slow and broken, but it held an undercurrent akin to the tone of acceptance Madelyn had shown when Maree had finished strapping her and giving her orders. There was an undercurrent of something <em>warm</em> in Lesley’s weak voice.<br><br><strong>“I… I… I’ll do it.”</strong><br><br>She paused, for fully ten seconds.<br><br>The pretty dark-haired girl got unsteadily to her feet and began to strip…<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Despite her shaking fingers and obvious state of near-shock, Lesley divested herself in no time at all of white cotton blouse and grey pleated skirt. Within a minute she had reduced herself to her underwear and white knee-high socks and her flat black polished brogues. Her figure was very slender, her stomach just on the delicious and gently domed side of flat, her back narrow, her thighs two firm tapering columns of smooth pale delight. Her bra and panties were plain white cotton, very sensible if a little childish for someone of almost nineteen years. The panties had just a simple dainty pink bow on the front upper elastic and a three quarter back. The girls standing behind her noted that from under the side elastic two extremely cute moon-shaped slices of off-white bottom cheek showed, the white cotton being enticingly pressed into and delineating with a delicious looking valley of shadow, the fragrant crease between them.<br><br>All the watching Dommes agreed at once, Maree Sheena had caught quite a prize. Later that evening in the seniors lounge, all the girls agreed that Lesley Wingate had what is technically known as ‘a fuckably cute butt’.<br><br>Maree could not help but notice the sweetly domed front of the girl’s underwear that showed a faint hint of a shadow behind the thin material. It came as no real surprise that someone as clueless as Lesley did not wax.<br><br>Her bra again was plain and with a baby pink bow on the front between the cups. Not being required to support a large mass, it had quite narrow straps and was not, Lesley not having a very curvaceous figure, underwired, the cups merely being plain thin cotton.<br><br>Though she was not curvy, it was her unusually narrow back that made all the difference. Possibly a B cup, with a 32 chest Lesley Wingate still displayed a pleasing shape. And if you happened to be of Ms. Sheena’s sexual predilections, <em>very</em> pleasing indeed. Far from being flat chested as her loose clothing had at first belied, Lesley was, though a small package, an undoubtedly shapely one.<br><br>What was at once and <em>pointedly</em> obvious to Maree and the gathered onlookers was that the smaller girls nipples were hard; at two pretty places the bra cups tented deliciously out. It would appear that what she lacked in overall breast size, her teats more than made up.<br><br>Despite all her protestations and complaining and whining it was clear to everyone watching that Lesley was either excited by being treated this way and stripping in public, or she was cold.<br><br>And since it was a very warm September afternoon, when it was quite comfortable to walk outside in tee-shirt and shorts, or even, as Madelyn would soon readily attest, almost naked, nobody for one moment suspected the latter.<br><br>The other thing that did not go unnoticed was that the smaller girl, though obviously quaking in fear, made no attempt to cover herself. Standing with arms at her sides she either understood that to attempt to cover herself would result in further blows and the sharp command to hold her hands together behind her back – or she didn’t want to. A whispered debate began among the onlookers as to which it might be only to have their discussions interrupted by another brief statement from the almost nude girl.<br><br>Though Lesley continued to stare at the floor and wear a most becoming blush, her voice now was a little stronger,<br><br><strong>“I’m ready.”<br><br>“Ma’am.”</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>10-07-2008, 03:25:06</strong>
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				While Maree's facial expressions always tended to evoke some variation of "sadistic," particularly while in the midst of play her sweet smile, almost sickeningly fake to those who knew her, was likely intended to be a reward of such to the newly cooperative young S. "Mmm, that's a very good cow," she murmurs, stepping uncomfortably close to the girl and smartly perking the girl's head up with a light touch to her chin, exposing her throat and leveling her lips at the perfect kissing level for their different heights. "Good behavior gets rewarded, and I suppose this is no exception."<br><br>Her flawless features descent as she slowly, torturously lowers her head towards the underwear-clad freshman's, pursing her lips in anticipation. As her face grows near she reaches both arms around the smaller girl's thin shoulders, roughly pulling Lesley across the short distance that separated them and hugging her tightly against her own curvaceous, buxom form. "I'm not wearing perfume today, like Maddie," she murmurs, her lips tantalizingly close as a faint stench of sweat and something infinitely more sultry makes itself known, "So you'll have to grow fond of this." Her voice loses its sultriness as she briefly breaks off onto a self-speculative monologue again, putting on the appearance of being maddeningly unaware of the reward that the dialog is putting off. "Maybe you'll make a cute bath attendant, that could be sexy. I'll need to make a note of that some- oh, yes, right."<br><br>As she puts on a show of remembering her original task her eyes narrow with concealed mirth, the girl casually taking a handful of Lesley's hair and precisely maneuvering her into the embrace, only to jerk the girl's head down at the last moment in order to peck the tip of her nose. "What's that?" she wonders to herself in the ensuing silence, smirking at her new acquisition as she smartly observes "I thought you needed a reward, but I didn't really feel like getting inexperienced cow slobber on my perfectly good blouse, especially not in front of all these good people." As she speaks she waves an elaborating hand around the room, pushing Lesley back and allowing her to get a good look at the sheer size of the crowd that has developed in the wake of their show. "Everyone, we appreciate a good audience, but I'm afraid that cow and I both need to freshen up and 'review' a few things before dinner. I'm sure you all understand, hmm?" At the understated wave of blushes and involuntary whimpers at the word 'review', many of the women standing witness to the affair undoubtedly have a very good idea of what Maree is referring to.<br><br>Stepping back, Maree turns and proceeds to gather Madelyn’s tightly-tailored blouse, skirt, and the unusually girly bra that the newly heeled woman had the manners to leave where they had fallen. “Mmm, I think that cow does better with an audience,” she muses, pinching the fabric of the skirt between her fingers and rubbing it with anticipation before crumpling the garment into a small ball with the rest of the tanned domme’s things. “I think I’d like to have Ainsley accompany us back,” she ponders, smirking sharply as the seemingly neglected blonde levels an incredibly hostile, if silently and obviously blushing glance in her direction. “She’s going to watch me break her D in ever so slowly, and I suppose it is the least I can do to offer her some entertainment while I’m at it.”<br><br>Having said that, she turns to directly address Lesley again, raising her voice as she snaps “Cow will now come with me to our room. While we are on our way, she will think of something that she wishes to ask; I will allow her one question before we depart for this evening’s meal.”<br><br>Something on the ground catches Maree’s attention as she turns to depart, and with a slightly worrying snicker she bends down and retrieves the belt that Madelyn was so recently on the receiving end of. Folding it in her hands she slowly returns to Lesley, her hips swaying as if the girl was attempting to savor every moment of the approach. As she nears the girl she raises the folded strip of leather as if to use it, drawing Lesley’s reaction out as long as possible before she lowers her hand and, with a somewhat sadistic giggle, presses the strap into the girl’s hand. “I don’t have a proper leash and collar for you yet, and I’m not convinced you’ll know how to follow, considering how many times you’ve gotten lost in the last thirty minutes, so I want you to fasten that around your neck and hand the long end to Ainsley here.”<br><br>Turning back to the hostile blonde she flutters her eyelashes in a false show of pandering, sweetly asking the rag-clad blonde “You don’t mind, right? Maddie isn’t going to be in the right condition to take care of you for a couple of days, so I’ll be happy to take over. Goodness knows it doesn’t look like you can take care of yourself.” A knowing smile betrays that Maree does, indeed, know the competency that went into the girl’s haphazard appearance, and as much as she appeared attracted to Ainsley’s D, she seems to delight in going out of her way to harass the submissive young woman.<br><br>“Did you know that Ains here is a regular knockout?” she wonders in Lesley’s direction, glancing sharply at the girl as she watches to see whether or not she’s realized that nobody has instructed her to answer. Either way, the curvaceous domme puts on the appearance of not noticing as she resumes her story, continuing, “I think that’s really what attracted them in the first place. Maddie loves pretty shit, and I think she was, frankly, turned on by the idea of hurting someone prettier than herself. In any event, I guess they got along well, since she decided to keep Ains.”<br><br>Interrupting her story for a moment she glances towards the blonde, snapping “By the way, I doubt cow knows how a collar is suppose to fit: check her ‘leash’, and tighten it several notches.”<br><br>With that small piece of business attended to she turns and begins to pace toward the dorms at a fast rate, casually calling over her shoulder “Cow, follow. Ains, make sure she keeps up. You may slap or pinch her face to keep her in line, but be gentle: I don’t want to see any marks that I didn’t make when we get to the dorms.”<br><br>Maree seems to enjoy the game of playing antagonistic against eager-to-please, perhaps intending to see how Lesley reacts to being in the continued presence of a girl who, for all she knows, might supplant her position.<br><br>“Right, like I was saying,” she continues after several uncomfortable moments of silent pacing, “Ains was an absolute beauty. Maddie stripped her right in the lobby and paraded her around the dorm, lavishing kisses and attention on her in front of anyone she could find.” Her theatrical flair having kicked into full gear Maree steals a quick glance behind her, monitoring Lesley’s progress and taking the opportunity to give Ainsley a vulgar grin, as if in remembrance. “After she was done with the introductions she and Ains went into their room, where they stayed for about three days. Damn lovebirds were in my hall, too: I had to put up with this bitch’s crying for the entire time.”<br><br>She seems to shrug off the annoyance rather quickly, for all she would have Lesley believe that it was an inconvenience, quickly wrapping up as they pass through the dark-paneled stairwell and approach the rich red carpet that marks their hall. “The hair thing is new, though,” she explains, “Ains has an enormous amount of pride, which makes her such a cute humiliation whore. Maddie had her dressed as a Swedish milkmaid for the longest time, and what was it before that? A cowgirl? Anyway, it seems like we’re here.”<br><br>Apparently unburdened by luggage of her own, Maree fishes in her pockets for a moment and produces an antique-looking key, which she shoves in the lock and twists sharply, giving the heavy door a push and striding into the room. “Ains, stay in the doorway,” she orders absently, roughly taking the leash from the blonde and tugging Lesley against her plush form. “I don’t want any of that grease and mud getting on my carpet, so you can be good and stay there like a nice bitch until your D and I decide what to do with you.” <br><br>The room itself is surprisingly spacious, rich red carpeting covering the bulk of the floor before giving way to the tiles of a private bathroom, barely visible through a doorway in the corner of the room.<br><br>Aside from the bed the room is surprisingly sparse: two desks, two dressers, and a row of long cabinets dominate the rest of the scene. No dungeon equipment, no torture room, not a hint of the outlandish exhibits itself. If one had no prior knowledge of Maree, they would likely conclude that the room belonged to an ordinary, if some what ostentatious youth.<br><br>Turning her attention from the door to Lesley, Maree gives the girl a meaningful look, maneuvering her against a wall and leaning forward to scrape her teeth down the side of the smaller girl’s neck as she murmurs “I’ll train you later, but for now you need to learn some basic points of etiquette. As you already know, you’re not to address any other woman while dressed. Until I say otherwise you must undress at least to your underwear before responding, if you are spoken to while on campus. You needn’t worry for your safety, either: everyone who might want to know you knows me, and I set very specific limits on my toys.” <br><br>With a knowing smirk she moves her attention down to the thin girl’s collarbone, harshly nipping the hard surface as she coos happily and resumes her lecture between kisses and bites to the sensitive region. “Nobody will permanently injure you, and if I see a mark that I don’t recognize, I’ll want to know who and what caused it. If you can spin the story in a sexy way, well I guess that’s a plus. There’s really no need to worry though, since I’ve arranged for us to take classes together. It’s pretty standard procedure for this hall, and as you’ve already gathered, we have somewhat special rules in a lot of areas. A professor will never interfere in our business unless one of us is breaking a law, and as you can imagine, there are precious few laws that matter in this place.”<br><br>As she continues the impromptu briefing the stench of sweat grows sharp in Lesley’s nostrils, Maree’s proximity asserting itself undeniably. A brief silence falls into place, only to be broken as the taller woman insistently pushes both of her hands into Lesley’s. “I’m getting bored,” she whispers, her voice suddenly husky in the increasingly cavern-like silence of the room, Ainsley’s boring gaze providing the only real texture to the situation. “While I’m telling you what’s what, I want you to introduce me to your body.”<br><br>Having stated her wishes with stunning simplicity the overbearing woman continues her explanation, easing her weight up enough for both pairs of hands to fit between the two bodies. “Now that you know the official situation from on high, there are a few somewhat obvious concepts I should review for your cow’s brain,” she continues, her voice having grown soft in deference to her flirtations. “You are not to speak save when instructed to, or when addressed by somebody else. You will always walk behind me. When we are sitting, or for that matter standing, whenever you address me I would like you to lean forward. If you are lucky enough to be wearing a tight-necked shirt, you will pull that down so I may look down it; you can be rather annoying, and so I’d like to at least have something nice to watch while I put up with you.”<br><br>Having apparently finished her lecture for the moment Maree draws back and stares at Lesley expectantly, licking her lips as she bids the girl “Go unpack your things, and be quick about it.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>10-07-2008, 19:35:05</strong>
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				Ms. Sheena (as Lesley was already beginning to think of her, she’d already begun to drop the idea that she had a first name – ‘Maree’ was already too familiar, too disrespectful) was without doubt a highly skilled domme, her whole process of one-sided conversations, excluding the object of her discussions from any actual verbal <em>interaction</em> as though she were an animal, not worth talking with, or worse, simply not present; her demonstration of superiority not by beating Lesley black and blue but by subduing, beating and even <em>arousing</em> a far stronger will – that of Madelyn; her use of teasing by making as though to offer a kiss as a reward and then denying it; and her theatricals of using Ainsley as a threatened replacement should Wingate not meet her standards were the hallmarks of a classic dominant, manipulative, even a sadistic mind.<br><br>Sadly, much of this surfeit of skill was wasted in that short walk from main hall to room 10 of Hartley Hall. Mostly because Lesley was incapable of taking it in. Sure, <em>some</em> of it had it’s effect, the actions, the general tone of voice and of course the impact on the on-looking crowd especially helped to reinforce the domme’s status at Belamward and to crush Lesley’s will a little more but on the whole the finer nuances of the performance went unrecognized.<br><br>Lesley was in zombie mode, her mind staggering under an overload of new revelations, both about her situation here that would last certainly for one year while she roomed with Ms. Sheena and possibly for two until her tormentor left the school; and about herself – the realizations of her own desires and motivations that had exploded into her consciousness in the last ten minutes had literally left her reeling; not only the possibility that throughout her life and certainly through her application process for Belamward she had been hiding a secretly masochistic streak, but that the stink of Ms. Sheena’s un-perfumed body, her closeness and her sheer vitality of personality struck Lesley as actually and powerfully sexually attractive. Her whispered, half articulated, half moaned <em>“kiss me”</em> had, she realised, come from a very deep rooted needy aching part of her soul.<br><br>Not only had she applied to a frighteningly perverse place of education which would be her home for three years, but she was also strongly submissive to the point of depravity, and in addition, she might be a lesbian… Not surprisingly, pumping further information into such a whirling mass of thought was hardly conducive to success. <br><br>No, Lesley Wingate was in no fit state to take on board anything much in the way of new inputs today. Thank you very much.<br><br>Except, of course, Maree Sheena didn’t ever pay much regard to polite requests. Silence and detachment and stoic nothings in response to her abuse were all things she had seen before and which she took in her stride. The fact that Lesley didn’t utter a single word until Ms. Sheena instructed her too much later, didn’t faze her at all. Throughout all this, a small part of what Ms. Sheena was doing <em>was</em> trickling in, much as it is always possible to force just a <em>little</em> more water into a girl’s bowels even though she might be screaming in agony from the huge enema already pumped into her. Indeed, ultimately it’s possible to force in so much, it actually spurts out of her mouth.<br><br>And Ms. Sheena was Belamward’s expert at forcing things just as far as <em>she</em> wanted them to go.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>The sensations aroused in Lesley’s chest, and lower in her secret core, as Ms. Sheena drew her close, teasing her with the promise of the contact she craved were enough to almost unhinge the smaller girl’s mind. She didn’t understand this feeling, it was new, brand new, the pungent scents of her tormentor made her nostrils flare in eagerness – <em>no, don’t bathe, you smell… you smell… mmm, so good…</em> – made her mind reel and the rewards of that wicked sickly smile, fake though it might be, and the brief caress of lips to nose were enough alone to make Lesley’s body generate heat and moisture and tear at her gut with longing, the heady stench of the bigger girls body was enough to make the freshman’s nipples harder still. Lesley didn’t understand any of it, whirling to destruction she merely stood there, helpless, enjoying it.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Cow will now come with me to our room. While we are on our way, she will think of something that she wishes to ask; I will allow her one question before we depart for this evening’s meal.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley silently stored this offer away, not yet having the slightest clue what question she might ask but knowing that by the time dinner was due, she might well have a hundred.<br><br>Lifting a dumb hand in acceptance of the proffered leather belt, Lesley looked mutely at it before robotically looping it around her neck and buckling it loosely. At a command from Ms. Sheena, Ainsley turned to Lesley and roughly drew it tighter by several notches so that its thick width and harsh metal buckle pressed tight around the soft pale neck of the victim, forcing Lesley to walk with her head held up. Ainsley furthermore twisted the buckle round to the front where it would press up under Lesley’s chin and cause her the maximum discomfort. It struck the mute, confused and rather damp sub as they proceeded off, how useful such a simple thing as a belt could be. At first glance appearing to hold no greater utility than a fashion accessory or a device to give shape and interest to a shift dress such as Ainsley’s, it could also be in the hands of the more imaginative, an instrument of physical abuse and further still, if the design had buckle holes pierced through it down to a very short length, become a tool for coercion and to instil both obedience and shame. It was not lost on Lesley that having a belt pierced with holes until it might be looped small enough to circle not only a slim girl’s waist but further still, a slim girl’s <em>neck</em>, was probably both unusual and completely intentional.<br><br>They set off, Ms. Sheena leading, talking back to the two girls from time to time as it pleased her, the sullen, glaring Ainsley following, tugging the last member of the mis-matched trio behind her by the free end of the belt. Without even realising it, Lesley found herself walking with her hands loosely placed behind her in the small of her back, one wrist resting on the other, her palms open. She also hadn’t given a thought to picking up her discarded blouse and skirt. Someone else might pick them up or they might not. They might stay there on the floor of Belamward’s main hall for ever, marking like the crossed swords on a map, the site of another of Maree Sheena’s many victories. Lesley had the curious notion that of all the many clothes she’d packed in her trunk, living with Ms. Sheena she might not, in fact, need very many of them at all.<br><br>As Ms. Sheena marched rapidly along corridors and up staircases, Lesley trotted behind, stumbling occasionally and moaning when the filthily-clad blonde tugged painfully on her collar but never once did she remove her hands from behind her, preferring the sensation of walking that way, her front exposed, her still-hard nipples moving slightly against the material of her bra and the possibility of tripping and falling seeming for some reason she could not fathom, to instil in her another small bead of excitement.<br><br>Passing a number of students in the hallways Lesley kept her eyes downcast, even though a few of the sights were shocking and indicated seniors from various dorms taking charge of freshmen by various interesting means. They more than once passed young men or women actually crying or cringing as blows rained down and verbal abuse was poured on.<br><br>They came to an upper corridor carpeted in a gloriously rich red pile. Lesley’s brogues pressed into it luxuriously yet the effect was quite lost on her as her over imaginative mind drew the parallel with the decks of Nelson’s battleships – red-painted so as to hide the blood. They subsequently reached a door which Ms. Sheena unlocked, leaving the filthy blonde girl on the threshold. Lesley was in no mood to take in her new surroundings though her eyes did light upon a large and familiar black steamer trunk before she found herself pressed up against a wall, once more the heady stink of girl-sweat flaring her eager nostrils.<br>&nbsp; <br>Ms. Sheena was never one to pay much attention to respecting personal space as Lesley had already, and now again found out. Within seconds of entering the room the taller girl, dipping her head and beginning to kiss and bite at the black-haired girl’s virgin collar bone outlined her rules. Lesley, coming back down from the high orbit her new discoveries had flung her into, was aware of being given vital information which her methodical mind stored away.<br><br><em>This is useful,</em> she told herself, mostly in order to recall it for the sake of obedience and to save herself potentially very painful trouble in future, <em>yet also…</em> that dark squirming, busily consuming larvae inside her said, <em>so I can, when the mood takes me, disobey it…</em><br><br>Part way through her verbal rulebook recital, Ms. Sheena broke off and put her hands in Lesley’s.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I’m getting bored. While I’m telling you what’s what, I want you to introduce me to your body.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> For a few seconds Lesley was unable to understand the instruction, it being delivered in such a peremptory and offhand way, but then, not being a slow person normally, her reactions and emotions this afternoon being understandably confused, she realized what her roommate wanted.<br><br><em>Roommate… isn’t right… she’s… uh, <span class="bbc_u">Ma’am</span> isn’t my roommate… she’s…</em> Lesley couldn’t quite fix in her mind <em>what</em> Ms. Sheena was. No doubt she would manage this shortly, it being one of her skills to quantify, measure, value and label. But right now, all her systems were still running on or beyond the redline and she was incapable of much coherent thought. That was the reason, and not through simple fear or lack of imagination or plain distaste (or indeed ignorance) of all things sexual and lesbian, that she was quite unable to respond coherently to Ms. Sheena’s kind offer. Later in the week Lesley came, rather strangely, around to understanding that it <em>was</em> a kind offer and she had time later also to dwell on her failure to make the most of it. For now, an almost unthinking response gripped her and her hands instinctively <em>“introduce me to your body,”</em> lifted her… <em>mistress’, that’s the word! Mistress’!</em> hands in hers and placed them shyly and yet… mixed in with that emotion… <em>proudly</em> on her chest. She let Ms. Sheena’s hands cup her feminine curves and ran her own hands gently down over the backs of the taller woman’s hands, pressing them briefly in place before letting her arms drop to her sides.<br><br>The instruction came forbidding her to speak unless spoken to, so with eyes cast down and aside and colour returning to her cheeks she merely stood mute rather than ask to be caressed, the concept of taking the other woman’s hands in hers and conducting them on a tour of her body was, at this stage of their relationship, utterly beyond her.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br><em>Mistress can feel me!</em> a tiny pathetic part of her exalted as the thin cotton bra cups in no way shielded the hard peaks of her breasts from Ms. Sheena’s touch.<br><br>The remainder of the D’s instructions were likewise efficiently squirreled away. After this moment of contact between the two women, Ms. Sheena spoke again.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Go unpack your things, and be quick about it.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Released from the delicious prison of warm pressure and open pores, Lesley shakily attended to her trunk. On it she saw a square of folded notepaper. She read it and then noting it’s contents walked the small distance back to Ms. Sheena, tilted her body forward a little and passed it over.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * * <br><br><em>“Dear Miss Wingate,<br><br>I checked the bursar’s freshman list. All of them had signed in except one, making you easy to find. So now I know your name, and your room. Interesting middle name, you must tell me the story behind that sometime.<br><br>I also signed in for you, which is strictly against the rules, risking a punishment for myself and saving you not a little inconvenience later. That means you owe me a favour. Show this to your D, with her agreement I’ll be around to collect my payment at some point, I’ll leave it to her to decide something appropriate.<br><br>I must say it was a pleasure meeting you and I’m sure you are now settling into Hartley’s most interesting regime nicely.<br><br>I heard your D is Ms. Sheena. Just a small word of advice – never say ‘no’ my dear, life is just <span class="bbc_u">so</span> much simpler that way! Enjoy!<br><br>Yours,<br>James Tockstowe<br>Junior Prefect,<br>Wirral.”</em><br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Subsequent to this she unpacked her things, the larger items of clothing being hung in the wardrobe, smaller items in the bureau or dresser and her books, school equipment and laptop on her bookshelves and desk. A few personal items went in the small table on the side of the bed away from that which had a small collection of things already on it – clearly Ms. Sheena’s side of the bed.<br><br>After she had put her toiletries and feminine items in the bathroom she came back out, standing again, hands behind her back near the bed.<br><br><em>The</em> bed. In a sudden shock that hadn’t until now pressed home, Lesley realised there was only one bed, a double. Right until now she had had in her mind an image of a boarding school where shared rooms had two single beds. A fresh bloom of colour prettied her face.<br><br><em>We’ll sleep together.<br><br>Or maybe… I’ll be on the floor…?</em><br><br>Lesley surprised herself to find the prospect of either option agreeable.&nbsp; &nbsp;
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>11-07-2008, 10:32:42</strong>
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				While Lesley saw to unpacking the trunk that had precipitated many of her morning's problems, Maree amused herself by walking to the door and chatting quietly with, or rather at Ainsley. "Stupid thing has already overloaded," she murmurs, actually making a point to keep this particular conversation away from Lesley's ears. "And here I thought it would be cute to stare a hole in that ass while she was busying herself about, but coma victims just don't rev my engine like they must do with Maddie, for all the time she's spent with your unenthusiastic pale ass."<br><br>With a helpless shrug she turns and walks back toward Lesley, not bothering to even acknowledge her departure to the silent, still-glowering girl in their doorway.<br><br>"Done stowing your shit, Cow?" she inquires lightly, casually reaching forward to take a handful of Lesley's hair and impatiently drag her to the center of the room. "Stand up straight now, I need to get your measurements now, so I can have a few costumes fine-tuned before our first classes tomorrow."<br><br>While she addresses the somewhat overburdened young woman Maree produces a measuring tape from one of the nearby cabinets, quickly striding back towards her new acquisition with a determined expression on her face. "Back straight, arms straight out, suck that gut in, and try not to look like a complete bitch," she bids the bookworm, reaching forward and roughly positioning the girl on her own. "Good, now stay like that while I try to work out just how much of a disaster zone your scrawny ass is going to be for my tailors." Despite the unceasing insults about the poor girl's figure Maree seems to be quite enjoying the ordeal, smoothly pressing, tugging and urging the girl into pose after pose as she takes numerous seemingly minute measurements with her tape. After the first few sequences she pauses and purses her lips speculatively, prompting "I'm actually not sure what would look cutest on you. The sexy librarian thing has been done to death, and I think you might make a cute harem slave, but that's almost as bad. Can you think of any costumes you would enjoy wearing to mark you as my slave, while we're on campus? I can't always take you out in your underwear, after all: it has the cute, inexperienced schoolgirl vibe going for it, but I'd hate for people to think that I'd chosen a slave who dressed herself like that on purpose. Oh yes, and you may speak, for now. There's no use bothering to solicit your opinion otherwise."<br><br>While the measuring process seems as if it would lend itself to somewhat inappropriate touching Maree handles the entire process like a pro, deftly manipulating the tape to scrupulously avoid making contact with Lesley’s body more than necessary, and certainly never touching anywhere that the befuddled girl would immediately recognize as an outright erogenous zone. In any case the measurements conclude far too quickly for the new girl to gain any meaningful progress towards processing everything, and judging by the increasingly familiar malicious grin spreading on Maree’s features, it isn’t her intent to give the girl a break any time soon.<br><br>Indeed, only moments after the tape is withdrawn for the last time Maree throws the girl another curveball, moving to lounge on her mattress as she lazily stares at Lesley’s form, her fingers occasionally pressing and rubbing the space around her own waistband in a salacious and extremely unambiguous manner. “The costume aside, you have something much more pressing you need to think about,” she warns, a finger briefly dipping several centimeters under her skirt’s elastic waist before returning to sight. “Madelyn is going to be coming after dinner, and even though she knows who’s in charge around here, she doesn’t know where you stand. She’ll be expecting me to put her in charge of you, but I think you might just surprise her if you keep to your best behavior. If that happens, I promised that I would make her serve you, and I intend to keep that promise. You need to think about what, exactly, you intend to do; I might be inclined to give her to you for all of five minutes, ten if you’re feeling particularly creative, and I don’t need to tell you how many people would swoon to have a beauty like that under their heel for any length of time. “ She pauses meaningfully to let the implications catch up with the statement before she continues, subtly licking her lips as her attention strays to Lesley’s cotton-covered crotch. “You don’t seem to feel like giving yourself to her authority, and that is exactly what you will do if you try to get out of your responsibilities. You’ve been a good girl for a little while, and if you keep being good, she will be your reward for tonight, but if you don’t have the guts to use her, I’ll see to it that you’ll spend the rest of the year remembering that you’re the lowest cunt in the room. Speaking of which, I was always curious about something.”<br><br>Giggling softly to herself she steps out of Lesley’s line of sight and circles behind her, returning several seconds later with Ainsley in tow. “Ains, you must be cramping up standing back there while we have all the fun,” she murmurs, carefully positioning the girl several feet in front of Lesley. “I remember Maddie used to make you put on shows in the lounge, and I’ve missed that ever since she started this whole gutter rat thing. Why don’t you be a dear and dance for us, mmm?”<br><br>Grinning in anticipation she quickly paces behind the still-standing Lesley, leaning forward to rest the bulk of her weight against the girl, shooting Ainsley a covert, taunting look as she oh-so-intentionally makes a point of rubbing her cleavage across Les’s back. “Hmm, what do you think?” she whispers into Lesley’s ear as Ainsley begins to hesitantly swivel her hips in a rough approximation of a table dancer’s routine, one hand clasping the other wrist as she raises both hands above her head, proudly pushing her minimal bust forward as her hips do their work. As the dance progresses her hands begin to roam across the rest of her form, occasionally tugging at her blouse or skirt to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of flesh before she pulls the fabric back into position.<br><br>What the newly-charged dancer seems to lack in natural talent she makes up for with pure sensuality, her entire body screaming “sex” as she clumsily transitions from one dance move to the next. Her amateur qualities make the show oddly compelling to watch, especially when one considers that the hostile, outright angry look in her eyes has only grown since the show began, leaving spectators to observe a compelling, sexually charged performance being put on by a waiflike woman who, convincing as she is, obviously hates (or appears to hate) every moment of it.<br><br><br><br><br>After several minutes of this Maree’s body grows tense behind Lesley, the girl letting off a loud, poorly faked yawn and snapping “I said strip, not sleepwalk, you useless bitch”. She roughly pinches Lesley’s waist to punctuate her frustration, her body tensing in annoyance for the long moment it takes Ainsley to get the hint and begin unbuttoning her patchwork blouse.<br><br>“Don’t worry Cow,” Maree murmurs, her form relaxing against Lesley again as their pale entertainer quickly finishes unbuttoning her blouse and tosses it to the floor, revealing a surprisingly ornate blue lace push-up bra, apparently meant to maximize the small amount of cleavage that the thin girl has. As the dance resumes Maree drops her hand down to rub at the red mark left by her angry pinch, the rub quickly turning into a caress as she coos “You didn’t do anything to deserve that. I was just frustrated, and you make very cute faces when I hurt you.”<br><br>True to her word Maree refrains from further harming the bookworm as Ainsley’s show sauces back up. In fact, the curvaceous domme seems to be in a downright good mood, roughly rubbing the outsides of Lesley’s thighs as Ainsley quickly disposes of her bra and skirt, exposing that her torso has been kept substantially cleaner than the skin that her outfit leaves exposed during the normal course of things. Grease and mud do not seem to be one of the tall domme’s personal quirks, for her breathing heightens noticeably as each new sector of clean, bright white skin is exposed, her hands clenching and relaxing as she outright kneads the flesh of Lesley’s legs. “How are you liking the show, cow?” she murmurs, her voice inexplicably husky as she leans forward to harshly bite at Lesley’s neck. “I doubt I could ever whip your useless husk into following a beat, but Ainsley might just be able to train you into something half resembling a competent dancer. Mm, she just hates you, you know, and I’m sure she would just jump at the opportunity to train you in something that would inevitably require many, many ‘corrections’ on her part.”<br><br>Maree has been reasonably lenient with regards to breaking Lesley in to the more outright sexual aspects of her new position, apparently waiting until the two are alone, but she seems to have little compunction about indulging herself in front of the thin girl: when taunting and threatening her roommate proves to provide insufficient stimulation she removes both hands from Lesley’s thighs, cloth rustling as her hands do something behind the girl’s back. After a prolonged moment the taller woman lets out a sharp indrawn breath, laying more of her weight on the underwear-clad girl’s shoulders. The unusual fidgeting movement of her arms and torso against Lesley’s back, combined with the pleased flush that has risen to her cheeks, leave a savvy observer to conclude the woman to be quite obviously pleasuring herself behind the sub’s back. “Strip off your panties,” she murmurs harshly, casting a downright venomous look towards the still-incensed Ainsley as she continues “Bitch cunts aren’t allowed any clothing in the presence of their betters, especially not when they’re supposed to be putting on a show.” <br><br>Anger apparently fueling her performance at this point Ainsley loses no time in roughly tugging her undergarments down and tossing them to the side, revealing the smooth, immaculately shaven flesh of her triangle and beyond. The combination of anger and outright shame have long since painted her cheeks a deep reddish hue, but as the loss of her panties leaves the woman bare and exposed to Maree’s now openly-excited view the flush makes a fair attempt at spreading to her upper chest, the almost emaciated girl’s fair skin providing a magnificent palette for the humiliation that Madelyn and others have apparently taken to inflicting upon her on a fairly routine basis.<br><br>While the now-nude Ainsley makes as if to continue dancing Maree boredly waves her off, freeing her hands and relieving the weight from Lesley’s back as she stands and straightens her garments, sweat coating her face and lightly tainting her blouse as she moves away without having indulged in any kind of release. Wordlessly she moves to the bathroom, the noise of a faucet turning on breaking the momentary silence as she washes her hands.<br><br>The domme is only g one from the room for a short period, but Ainsley wastes none of it. The moment Maree is out of sight the nude, now-proud woman quickly strides toward the still-standing Lesley, casually draping her arms around the girl and leaning her still-nude form against. the bookworm’s torso. “You, bitch,” she hisses, the woman unexpectedly speaking with a thick French accent, “You think you are special, the new favorite? Just you wait. One day you will fuck up, and they will give you to me. When they do, I am going to hurt you so… badly…” it appears as if the woman had more threats in store, but as the noise of flowing water ceases Ainsley quickly scampers back to where she had been left, her eager, almost sadistic expression being supplanted with its usual rage as Maree strides back into the room, glancing at the two girls curiously.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>12-07-2008, 12:37:59</strong>
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				The few minutes that Lesley had to unpack her things served to give her a welcome respite. She found herself switching robotically to ‘tidy mode’, a state of being she enjoyed considerably in her well-ordered almost OCD-focused existence. At home she liked to order her books on their shelves or her toiletries in her bathroom cabinet for long, relaxing and peaceful minutes or she could spend an entire happy evening at her laptop, sorting out her file and folder names. It was a retreat for her, an oasis, a place to go to avoid the troubles of the real world, troubles that involved interacting with other humans for one.<br><br>So now she went in her head to that place, that happy detached state of being, busily moving here and there stowing gear, arranging perfume bottles and ordering books alphabetically by author within genre… This self-induced hypnotism helped her in other ways, it helped her put aide the horror of her situation and allowed her near frantic state of mind to calm down considerably, never minding that she was constantly reminded of the bizarre new direction her life had taken each time she glanced up into bathroom or bureau mirror – she was reminded that she had never arranged her room before wearing only a bra and panties.<br><br>Ms. Sheena, for all her casual off hand attitude must have been noting the subs movements carefully for no sooner was Lesley finished and returning from sliding the trunk away under the bed than her hair was painfully grabbed and the horror at once resumed. For her part though, Lesley had managed to restore her whirling mind to some level of acceptance of the situation, if not actual calm.<br><br>What followed was a bespoke tailoring scene with a twist, Ms. Sheena measured her up in every possible way, pushing, pulling, turning and ordering her to stand, bend and display herself in ways that Lesley had never done before when her mother had taken her to Charterhouse and Beeham’s in Saville Row for her prom dresses or birthday gowns. Lesley wondered if Ms. Sheena would touch her. Not just touch her, but <em>touch</em> her, if you get my drift. But she didn’t, even when taking her bust and hip size, and her inside leg measurements the domme skilfully placed her warm fluttering fingers near… so near… then took the data she required and moved away again. Lesley found herself becoming frustrated even though she could not say why. Ms. Sheena had forbidden her to speak unless directly told to, so the black-haired girl remained silent throughout. However, it is quite possible to converse in silence and Lesley found that her body was as good a communication medium as her tongue. She was also surprised to find herself conversing this way, shocked yet at the same time, inexplicably happy, even eager.<br><br>When the older woman deftly took her bust measurement Lesley pushed her chest out and counted it as a tiny victory when, the necessary information being gathered, her slight thrust caused the red-head’s knuckles to graze the warm pliant side of her breast as they completed their task.<br><br>When her inside leg was taken, Lesley shuffled her ankles apart and pushed her hips a little forward, presenting the curved front of her panties more fully to her tormentor. Down there, below, she could still sense a warmth and moisture and as Ms. Sheena placed her head close Lesley wondered if the scent of her condition might reach the older woman’s nostrils.<br><br>But if it did, Ms. Sheena showed no sign and soon the job was done. Throughout it the domme had talked about what she might dress the younger woman up in but Lesley said nothing, her opinion hadn’t been asked and even if it had been she hadn’t the first clue what was meant by ‘dressing up’ in this context, she felt sure her mistress did not mean prom gowns, Halloween outfits, Santa costumes or anything remotely of that ilk. Although… from time to time when they’d gone to West End shows Lesley had marvelled at the costumes on stage, in one or two areas she did subconsciously have a preference though it would require a direct order to speak for these ideas to be made known…&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Can you think of any costumes you would enjoy wearing to mark you as my slave, while we're on campus? I can't always take you out in your underwear, after all: it has the cute, inexperienced schoolgirl vibe going for it, but I'd hate for people to think that I'd chosen a slave who dressed herself like that on purpose. Oh yes, and you may speak, for now. There's no use bothering to solicit your opinion otherwise."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley went wide eyed, she was being asked to speak. She felt that she should even though she might not want to, and suddenly it blurted out. It wasn’t something she’d want to be seen dead in, in school, yet it was something that having seen on the stage she did find appealing… as she uttered these two words, it told her, and Ms. Sheena, an awful lot about the slender girl.<br><br><strong>“F… French m-maid.”<br><br>“Uh, Ma’am.”</strong> She stared at the carpet as she spoke.<br><br>The statement solicited no reaction, though by now Lesley was growing used to this and was even beginning to accept it, though not, of course actually enjoy being ignored.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Ms. Sheena finished and lounged on the bed and proceeded to tell her sub about the impending duties post-dinner regarding their arranged visitor.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Madelyn’ll be expecting me to put her in charge of you, but I think you might just surprise her if you keep to your best behaviour. If that happens, I promised that I would make her serve you, and I intend to keep that promise. You need to think about what, exactly, you intend to do; I might be inclined to give her to you for all of five minutes, ten if you’re feeling particularly creative, and I don’t need to tell you how many people would swoon to have a beauty like that under their heel for any length of time.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley’s mind at once darted back to that frightful spanking and those busy dipping fingers. <em>I could ask Madelyn to… oh… my…</em><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“You’ve been a good girl for a little while, and if you keep being good, she will be your reward for tonight, but if you don’t have the guts to use her, I’ll see to it that you’ll spend the rest of the year remembering that you’re the lowest cunt in the room.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> The obscene language made Lesley flinch though the point was clear, it was in her power to set the tone of her own future – do something wholly alien to her nature and order Madelyn to do something to or for her <em>but what? What?</em> – that image of spanking came back - or do nothing (which was the easier and natural option) and… suffer… Lesley bit her lip and could not come to a decision.<br><br>Throughout the next ordeal – Lesley was fast beginning to think of her situation in discreet unlinked scenes, it was like her life at Belamward had somehow become switched with that of an unwilling actress in one of <em>those</em> movies… not that Lesley had ever watched those things… except late at night when her parents were asleep and alone in her room, hunched over her laptop screen, a sick irresistible fascination had drawn her to certain websites where she watched open mouthed at the awful depravities being enacted on the screen. And her hand… her fingers had…<br><br>She shut that away. No, she <em>wasn’t</em> that sort of girl, she didn’t like <em>those</em> things. She <em>didn’t!</em><br><br>But now, aghast she stood, a mute helpless victim as Ms. Sheena made Ainsley, whom Lesley soon came to note, as the blonde girl’s slender and quite exquisite form was revealed, was truly a beauty, though horribly marred by dirt and that cruel hair crop, dance before her. Lesley noted that the dance was for her benefit and not her mistress’. It was intended to shock, to be yet another device to impress on the young woman the severity of her situation and the power held over her. Lesley had never really considered her sexuality in any detail before; yes she knew about arousal, she knew about the sexual acts, she knew about the perversions of those acts, she wasn’t some shy innocent wallflower in that regard but she had never sat down in the cold light of day and considered if she preferred boys over girls or the reverse. She naturally assumed the former, going along with the sheep-flock of convention. While her limited experience of seeing the female form at high school had left her convinced she was not interested in such things, today, as it had in so many ways, had changed her perception of this too. The intoxicating closeness of Ms. Sheena downstairs, the electrifying response of Madelyn to her punishment (reward?) and Lesley’s inability to tear her eyes away from the purple haired girls sweetly bulging panties… and now… this. This shocking display of nudity!<br><br>Not only was Ms. Sheena pressing herself lewdly against her back and letting Lesley feel the wonder and softness of her generous shape but when Ainsley stripped completely and Lesley saw, in the flesh, for the first time in her life a fully nude female other than herself, she found her gaze drawn inexorably… <em>there</em>. Riveted she could not tear her eyes away. <em>No hair! She’s got no hair!</em> the thought ripped around inside her head unstoppable, heady and hot, <em>so pretty…</em> Lesley’s mouth parted. Behind her, her temptress could not see it but for a brief moment Lesley’s little pink tongue tip issued forth and licked along her upper lip before retreating again, accompanied by a dry swallow.<br><br>Whether she was gay or not didn’t matter, what did matter was that in the last few hours Lesley had recognized and submitted to sexual urges she had never before admitted within herself, still reeling, it was her acceptance of that and all it stood for that made her come to this understanding: <em>If Ma’am makes me look at these things, if Ma’am makes me touch girls, and be touched by them… then I’m happy. I’ll want it not because it’s my decision to do it, but because it’s hers. And submitting to her will is what I want…</em> The thinking was not even as coherent as that, indeed, if you’d asked Lesley to formulate anything coherent right now it would result only in the return of the deer-in-headlights look; she was quite incapable of rationalizing <em>anything</em> from the last three hours, her capacity to do so had utterly failed. Right now, Lesley Uttoxeter Wingate was, as the colloquialism terms it, ‘going with the flow’. And right now, waxed female genitalia were very much a part of that flow, Lesley was very much <em>going</em> with that, thank you very much.<br><br>The other point being so ruthlessly and successfully hammered home here was that the sensually gyrating naked blonde whose nether regions so entirely captivated Lesley’s gaze, was not enjoying what she was doing. She positively oozed anger and resentment. Lesley was stunned. If she loathed this treatment so much why was she here? Surely the point was that subs enjoyed this? Lesley was so innocent – she had so much to learn about the forces that drive the human sexual response, but right now she was merely confused.<br><br>Ms. Sheena began to caress her, a pinch here a stroke there, soon her hands were at her outer thighs, caressing and kneading the flesh. It did not take long but after a couple of minutes the easily pleased Lesley sank back more against her tormentor, not speaking as she had been instructed but talking volumes with her body. She let her eyelids flicker closed, not wanting to shut out the sight of the beautiful naked dancing Ainsley but at the same time her need was growing, her rising lust punctuated by her pressing her thighs a little together, lifting one foot to slide a little more pressure against her lower lips and from her mouth a low moan escaped.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“How are you liking the show, cow?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> A sharp bite at her neck and another wave of intoxicating woman-sweat sent Lesley higher. Her only answer was to tilt her head the other way and give that side of her neck more freely to Ms. Sheena…<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I doubt I could ever whip your useless husk into following a beat, but Ainsley might just be able to train you into something half resembling a competent dancer. Mm, she just hates you, you know, and I’m sure she would just jump at the opportunity to train you in something that would inevitably require many, many ‘corrections’ on her part.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley merely shuddered at the suggestion and gave the taller woman easier access to her throat, tilting her head back with what amounted to a low growl. If she was going to be hurt, she wanted Ms. Sheena to be the one dealing out the torment. And yet… and yet… if Ms. Sheena <em>gave</em> her to another to do the actual hurting, wasn’t that the same? Being in the control of one who was in her Mistress’ control was almost as good… perhaps, down the ladder of degradation and submission it was in fact a higher plane – or lower, depending on your point of view.<br><br>Suddenly it was over, after some deeply exciting sounds and mutterings and movements that indicated – well, Lesley was just not sure what they indicated, <em>did she pleasure herself? All the way? Did she…?</em> Ms. Sheena in her customary manner seemed to grow bored of this game and without a word vanished into the bathroom.<br><br>And that was when Lesley made another discovery about Hartley Hall’s intricate and never-endingly subtle miniature society. Within the layers of dommes that continuously sought for supremacy like lions in a pack, below that stratum were the bitches, the lionesses, the harem, the layers of subs. Lesley not only had little concept of the existence of this under-layering, she had no idea where she might lie in it. Ainsley Sainte-Sulpice however, had decided that whatever the situation, she would not lie below Lesley Wingate. The dirt-smeared naked blonde darted forward and hurled such a wave of whispered abuse at her that it was more shocking than anything she’d experienced since she’d left the main hall.<br><br>The very first all-nude contact by another woman, however brief against her full (and still aching) length combined with the revolting language and sharply hissed hatred shocked Lesley so badly that she could not respond at all. As Ms. Sheena returned to find Ainsley innocently back in her place Lesley could only stammer inside her own head.<br><br><em>You’re like me. One underneath the others! Why? Why hurt me? I don’t…<br><br>I don’t get it…!</em>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>The blonde girl’s face had so completely changed too, her mask fell from angry loathing to sadistic delight and when Ms. Sheena came back out, the angry resentment was smoothly and efficiently back. A mask, fake and applied like make-up.<br><br><em>She likes this? Being tormented exposed and ordered about – she loves it. The anger and disgust is a mask to please the ones dominating her…?</em><br><br>Lesley was finding out a lot of very interesting things at her new college.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Ms. Sheena came back to the innocently separated pair and picked up some of Madelyn Wynetor’s discarded clothing. As she toyed with it and Lesley wondered what the next minutes would bring, she noticed something. Some small thing. She would normally not have bothered to cry wolf, it was not her style but she was still reeling from Ainsley’s assault on her and suddenly it seemed very important that her owner should know what had just happened. Lesley had this crazy hot burst inside her, anger at Ainsley, anger at her deception and anger that someone who deserved respect should be cheated. Cheating and lying and deceiving Ms. Sheena suddenly seemed to be the ultimate sin, one Lesley could not accept. Without realizing it, she was being drawn more deeply into the red-headed woman’s snare and the next step was this.<br><br>Unable to speak without permission, Lesley raised an arm. A finger silently pointed at Ainsley, indicating the smears of red-brown clay on her cheek and neck and wrists. Then, equally mutely, the finger turned and pointed at her own shoulder where an identical smear of red lay. She could not see it but there was a second smear, a little bigger on the side of her neck, one scrap of it on her ear lobe.<br><br>Lesley let the accusing finger, and her face, fall. Studying the red carpet between herself and the French girl who now no doubt loathed her with even more vicious intensity, Lesley waited to see if her Mistress liked her subs to tell tales or not.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>12-07-2008, 19:16:16</strong>
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				A moment’s glance is all that Maree requires to put together Lesley’s complaint, the woman heaving a slow, obviously frustrated sigh. For a long, heart-stopping moment she glances between the two women, her lips pursing speculatively as she considers how exactly to respond. After several long, silent, gut-churning seconds, she turns back to Lesley, a grin plastered from ear to ear as she quietly teases “Do you want me to beat her? Hurt her? Maybe you wanted permission to punish her yourself? Well that’s not going to happen.” <br><br>Shaking her head with a disapproving ‘tsk’, the woman reaches forward to casually run her fingers through Lesley’s hair, occasionally circling several locks of hair around a finger and giving them a sharp, experimental tug. “If I were to hurt her for you,” she whispers, her voice resuming it’s husky stage-whisper, “I would just be giving that French cunt the attention and confirmation she’s desperately seeking. Ditto if I was to hurt you for her.”<br><br>Her malicious grin having returned to her features she casually takes a large handful of hair and drags Lesley several steps away from the door, gesturing vaguely in Ainsley’s direction. “Well?” she inquires testily, “What are you waiting for, you frog cunt? Get out of my room, and take a message to that beauty-queen dropout of a roommate of yours. Tell her that thanks to you, I’m too pissed off to bother playing with her tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the night after that. Tell her that she is to continue dressing as she has, and acting as she has, until I decide to call for her. And tell her if she’s very fucking lucky, I’ll only tan her ass for this little transgression, and leave your precious little cream complexion untouched.” Smirking cruelly she moves as if to bodily propel Ainsley from their dormitory, casually dragging Lesley along for the ride as she chases the woman out and slams the door shut behind her.<br><br>“Yeesh, what a cunt,” she comments idly, releasing Lesley’s hair and planting a quick kiss on the side of girl’s head that had just been drafted as a handhold. “What did that bitch do, anyway? Oh yes, you may speak. In fact, maybe the silence has made you a little less annoying: until I say otherwise, you may speak for the rest of this evening. In any event, you did the right thing; nobody is supposed to touch you without my express permission, and that little Riviera whore didn’t have it.” <br><br>As the two women converse, Maree takes to closely inspecting Lesley’s body, her gaze darting to the girl’s cleavage whenever she speaks, but otherwise roaming freely over her mostly exposed form. “You should know,” she snickers at length, a hand coming up to tug one of Lesley’s bra straps aside while she inspects for any tan lines, “If that bitch hadn’t fucked up so soon, she probably would’ve had my permission to screw with you. You are, of course mine,” she assures the woman, stretching the flexible strap as far as it will go before release it, watching the elastic material snap back into place with a horrible sound, “But I’ll probably hand you over to that ghostly harlot one of these days, if only because it would make a great grudge fuck. She just despises you, and I don’t think you much care for her either, so I’d really like to see how you respond to being her toy for a few hours.”<br><br>With a slight shrug she turns and paces back towards the bathroom, casually calling “Heel” over her shoulder as she locates a washcloth and hands it to Lesley, gesturing towards the sink and bidding her “Wash that red crap off of yourself, would you? I for one don’t get off on making my roommate looked like Oliver Twist.” Grinning to herself she gives Lesley a moment to move towards the sink before snapping her fingers, impatiently correcting the girl: “What do you think you’re doing, acting as if you’re alone in here? I already told you that I like looking at your body when you speak to me, so why the hell shouldn’t the same be true when I’m waiting for you to get poor fashion sense and worse taste in women off of you?”<br><br>Apparently satisfied simply to see how Lesley reacts to the chiding she waits for the woman to finish washing herself before turning and striding back into the center of the room, apparently expecting Lesley to follow. “How did you like the two prefects you met today?” she wonders, absently pulling out the note from earlier and glancing at it briefly before shrugging and tossing the thing in the wastebasket. “I don’t think their idea of ‘fun’ would usually match yours, but if either of them left a particularly strong impression I might be willing to arrange for you to see more of them.”<br><br>While waiting for an answer Maree moves to curiously inspect Lesley’s things, idly commenting “You certainly weren’t shy about over-preparing,” she observes wryly, glancing briefly at the books as if to see if Lesley shared any of her own reading interests. “Although I’m sure you’ve already realized that you brought far, far more clothing that you’ll really need, I’m at least glad to see that the rest of the crap you’ve brought seems to be reasonably useful.”<br><br>With a confident smirk she quickly moves toward her own bookshelf, casting a glance behind her to confirm that Lesley is following before she elaborately waves a hand towards a tall stack of magazines that sit on the corner of her desk. “I don’t know exactly what your thing is,” she continues, flipping through several of the topmost volumes and pulling out a single volume in particular, “But I’m guessing even this shit is new to you, so you may ask to borrow one per night, if you promise to ‘study’ them thoroughly.” <br><br>Grinning, she pushes the magazine in her hand towards Lesley. It, along with presumably everything else in the stack, proves to be a cheap and salacious collection of young women dressed in a variety of insufficient, or occasionally nonexistent outfits, engaging in various saucy poses for the benefit of the reader. “I thought it would be cute to get an idea of your tastes before I take you too far on my own,” she grins, “So part of your homework each night will be to show me the pictures, women, or clothing you like best and explain, in as much detail as you are capable, what you like about them.”<br><br>Having apparently fulfilled her minutely quota of humiliating orders she casually tosses the magazine back on her desk, motioning Lesley to remain where she is. With a shrug she disappears behind Lesley, Madelyn’s short cloth skirt still in hand as she moves to tantalizingly rub the trailing edge of the cloth over Lesley’s bare back and shoulders. “In any event,” she hisses, her voice low and sensual, “Now that our entertainment is gone, I guess I should take the opportunity to experiment with you. You never know, after all, when a soft touch will accomplish what a hard one can’t,” Having said so she continues to drag the soft cloth across the exposed skin of Lesley’s back, occasionally dropping it to bunch against the waistline of her panties or to coast teasingly over the clasp of her thin bra. “Personally, I’ve pegged you as being in need of a more direct, firm hand, but it would be negligent of me not to test every. Single. Possibility.” Her voice maintains its sultry edge as she whispers, the curvaceous domme playing the role of the seductive mistress to the hilt as if attempting to gauge Lesley’s reaction to different types of personalities. <br><br>Maree displays considerable restraint as she plays with the cloth, the domme refraining from biting, pinching, slapping, or otherwise hurting Lesley. Every so often she even deigns to ask the girl where she would like the cloth to be moved, apparently in an attempt to get Lesley used to providing feedback.<br><br>As the session continues Maree’s attention focuses more and more on her victim’s waist, legs, and intimate quarters, and in several excruciating cases she goes so far as to grip the skirt with both hands and drag it between Lesley’s legs, offering a brief, maddeningly unfulfilling pressure to contrast with her soft caresses. “French maid, was it?” she asks between two such strokes, her breath hot on the smaller girl’s ear as she giggles “I guess we could arrange for that. I already have most of that particular costume in your size, but when it comes down to it, a costume is something you’re wearing to please me, and you need to learn to anticipate my tastes.” Smirking, she moves the skirt up to drape across Lesley’s shoulders, teasing the rough weave over her back as she continues “So I’m going to let you have some input into how we make the top. Do you want it to be low-necked,” she offers, dropping the cloth between the girl’s breasts as if to emphasize the option, “So you can show yourself off to everybody? Or,” she continues, pulling the cloth up and wrapping it around Lesley’s neck to exert moderately uncomfortable pressure, “Would you like something tight and high-necked, that’ll show off your figure but leave you gasping and red-faced trying to keep up with me?” She continues to maintain the tension in the skirt for a long moment, tugging on both ends threateningly before finally unwinding it and moving her attention elsewhere. “Personally, I think either one would be pretty cute,” she offers, “So it really comes down to what you would feel sexiest in.”<br><br>As long as the play might have seemed to Lesley, in reality it only took several minutes of teasing the girl’s pale skin to bore Maree, who eventually grows tired of the teasing and twirls the cloth into a thick roll, constructing an impromptu blindfold. With no preamble she drops the cloth over Lesley’s eyes and ties it tightly behind her head, resting her own chin on the girl’s shoulder as she whispers “Your turn” and quickly guides the now-blinded girl towards the bed. “I don’t waste my money on girly scents and tonics,” she murmurs, pacing around Lesley’s standing form to sit lightly on the bed as her alluring voice takes on a distant, almost dreamlike vagueness, “But I’m sure you think of yourself as being far too well-bred to enjoy spending time in proximity with someone who smells of sweat and sex all the time”. She seems to put an offsetting amount of scorn into ‘well-bred’, her voice dripping with soft, excruciating contempt as she lounges on the edge of the mattress and scrutinizes her now-blindfolded roommate. <br><br>“I haven’t taught you how to properly serve me and any other woman who requests you in the bath,” she continues, “So I guess for now, if you don’t want to offend your bitchy little sensibilities when I want to lay with you, you’ll have to take care of the stench yourself.” Having said that she crosses her arms over her chest and smirks triumphantly at the blinded girl, flatly instructing her “Come over here and remove my blouse and skirt. Once they are off, you may use your tongue to bath whatever isn’t still covered by my underwear.” Apparently content to leave the instructions at that she leans back a hair, moving her hands to support herself on the mattress as she gazes expectantly at Lesley.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>13-07-2008, 21:58:12</strong>
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				Lesley had no idea what would happen; a part of her was fearful, expecting a slap, or worse; a part of her was ashamed that she’d ‘gone running to teacher’ and not fought her own fight; a part of her was somehow sorry for Ainsley that she would be punished, if not by Ma’am then by Madelyn; a hot eager part of her was thrilled that she’d taken the initiative, no matter how feeble; another part just wanted Ainsley out of the room so that… so that… what…? So ma’am could torment her in private? Or that Lesley could demonstrate her thanks – and thanks for what? She still didn’t know…<br><br>Lesley still didn’t know <em>anything</em> of what was going on, pieces of the puzzle flew hither and thither, some falling into place, others not yet fitting, some pieces came from different puzzles entirely and refused to make any sense. She was merely confused but when Ms. Sheena’s hand went into her hair and painfully pulled it she felt… happy.<br><br>Yes, happy. This was why she had subconsciously invited bullying as a girl; this was why she’d ignored Rebecca Milsom’s oh-so-obvious advances. So she could feel the pain and heartache. Of that she was convinced, that puzzle piece became bolted down, central to her understanding of the <em>why</em> of her application to Belamward. Now she waited for others to fit alongside it.<br><br>Dragged to and fro across the room by her hair she allowed Ms. Sheena to deal with Ainsley and send her packing, no doubt to endure an awful something-or-other at the hands of her domme… her D. There. Lesley was beginning to understand, the jargon was becoming known to her now. She was an S like Ainsley, although if she sat above or below the French girl in the pecking order she didn’t yet know. She feared that she might be below, yet, she didn’t want to be, she wanted to be above the haughty arrogant blonde. Of this Lesley was certain.<br><br>S…<br><br>And D.<br><br>Ma’am was a D, and a quite awe-inspiring one at that. Lesley wondered if chance had placed her at the whim of the most assertive and dominant woman in the entire school. Given the performance in the main hall just now it was a possibility. She wondered how the college psychological profiling worked – had the school placed her, a very low level S, under the control of the highest D? Or had Ma’am reviewed the Hartley freshman applicants and chosen her personally?<br><br>The door slammed. They were alone. Lesley felt her pulse and breaths quicken.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“What did that bitch do, anyway? Oh yes, you may speak. In fact, maybe the silence has made you a little less annoying: until I say otherwise, you may speak for the rest of this evening. In any event, you did the right thing; nobody is supposed to touch you without my express permission, and that little Riviera whore didn’t have it.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Hanging her head and staring at the carpet Lesley spoke, <strong>“Thank you, Ma’am. If… if I am to be hurt… I’d like. Uh, I’d like Ma’am to - to do it.”</strong> Her heart thundered at what she was saying, but even so…! <em>I did the right thing. I did the right thing! She praised me! Ma’am praised me! I did something right!</em> Lesley felt quite weak at the knees.<br><br>Then she proceeded to give a fully accurate and honest retelling of what had just happened, not embellishing it at all. In a way not wanting Ainsley to suffer more because of her dishonesty. Her good nature was probably misplaced in Hartley Hall but she had no say in the matter, her nature precluded any other course of action. She could have added some padding to the tale but decided at once that Ma’am was not stupid, she could easily find out the truth and Lesley had no idea what she might do to someone who deliberately misled her. No, Lesley might lack many qualities but she was scrupulously honest and never told tales.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“You should know, if that bitch hadn’t fucked up so soon, she probably would’ve had my permission to screw with you. You are, of course mine,” <em>Lesley flinched at the sharp pain of the bra strap elastic twanging and biting at her shoulder</em> “But I’ll probably hand you over to that ghostly harlot one of these days, if only because it would make a great grudge fuck. She just despises you, and I don’t think you much care for her either, so I’d really like to see how you respond to being her toy for a few hours.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley for the very first time since the second they had met, raised her eyes and looked into Ms. Sheena’s. Her voice wavered and was low but in it there was a certain edge, a narrow determination, if rats could talk, they might sound like this when cornered, <strong>“Why does she despise me, Ma’am? Is it because she is envious that I’m with Ma’am and she isn’t? Or… or that you made her own mistress… made her…”</strong> Lesley couldn’t articulate it, describing the scene downstairs was still beyond her <strong>“Made her do what you did?”</strong> Each time she spoke she obeyed the order: lean forwards a little.<br><br>Lesley was then taken to bathe; she washed her neck and shoulder quickly and came back out again, noting that she should never turn her back on Ms. Sheena when the older woman watched her. She moved around to stand at the side of the sink so she faced the door, to wash, her slightly bent frame revealing a little more of her meagre curves as she wiped herself. By now the heat at her centre had cooled somewhat and the slight dampness at her crotch was uncomfortable and sticky.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“How did you like the two prefects you met today? I don’t think their idea of ‘fun’ would usually match yours, but if either of them left a particularly strong impression I might be willing to arrange for you to see more of them.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“I didn’t like the blonde lady, Ma’am, she was cold and hard. When she hurt me… it just… It just hurt, that’s all.”</strong> Lesley found that now, having been given permission the act of actual conversation with her mistress became easier, her words flowed less hesitantly. That last comment was an odd one, since only two people had hurt her since her arrival, the implication was that when Ms. Sheena hurt her… something else happened as well, though she did not elaborate. As to James Tockstowe, Lesley merely shrugged. Her interaction with him was limited, she had no opinion either way.<br><br>The subject moved on to the things Lesley had brought and she noted that Ms. Sheena commented that she had brought too many clothes. Also, given what she had seen already, sexy underwear and scanty daring costumes, both apparently essentials when living with the sadistic redhead, were both severely lacking in her wardrobe. Lesley silently agreed that much of the frumpy schoolgirl attire in her bureau might remain untouched all year. She did have a few items of lingerie that Ms. Sheena might like though… not many, but the small selection she had that were not plain white or pastel cotton were rather racy in her opinion. <br><br>Ms. Sheena then gave her a magazine. Lesley took it dumbly and glanced at the cover. A quick riffle though it confirmed for her that she would, indeed, not be needing most of her own wardrobe if this was what her D would have her wear. She stopped at one page, studied it for a second or two, then closed the book, noting the page number.<br><br>Being told that her first homework assignment was to select costumes that appealed to her, struck Lesley as almost funny, but she gave no reaction. It certainly beat algebra, that was for sure. The game was of course one of double bluff. If Lesley chose costumes she liked, would Ms. Sheena then avoid those and choose others merely to spite her? Or, if Lesley chose costumes she disliked and which were so demeaning they revolted her in the hope of second guessing her mistress’ reaction, would Ms. Sheena choose them anyway?<br><br>There was just no way of knowing, not until she knew her D better.<br><br>Then something very odd began, using the cloth of Madelyn’s silky skirt, Ms. Sheena began to tease Lesley, stroking her, letting the garment fall and rub and drift against her, watching for a reaction. For a long time Lesley didn’t react at all, she was too afraid and too unsure what would happen next.<br><br>Lesley felt sure that Ms. Sheena was doing a lot of different things early in their relationship as a way to find out what she liked… and again, it was all double bluff wasn’t it? If she reacted to what she liked would the taller woman simply stop doing that? Or if Lesley forced herself to respond to something she hated, would a twist of fate make Maree do that all the more? Or was the domme just so good at what she did that she’d detect Lesley’s true reactions anyway? Should Lesley just give herself up to her natural lusts and let fate (and Ms. Sheena’s sadistic mind) go where it would?<br><br>For many minutes there was no pain, no pinching, biting or slapping and Lesley began to relax, she didn’t exactly begin to <em>trust</em> but she did start to respond. And when Lesley Wingate responded… boy did she respond. She frightened herself with her response. Perhaps this was years of suppression of her true nature now released? Perhaps being submissive and recognizing that fact had let go the dam waters of her libido? Or was Ma’am simply a very sexy woman who knew how to get a younger girl writhing in her power in no time?<br><br>The touches at certain obvious places elicited the strongest responses; at one point Maree drew the cloth in a firm band under Lesley’s breasts and sawed it to and fro making the girls breasts lift and ‘drag’ along it’s upper ridge a little. Lesley let her eyelids flutter closed and a slight whimper drifted from her lips. Instinctively she let her hands move behind her into the small of her back and she pushed her chest out, more so when Maree lifted the cloth up so it traced very briefly across the peaks of the girls breasts for the briefest, most maddening moment. Lesley squeezed her eyes shut and hissed in breath sharply at that.<br><br>It was no accident that Ms. Sheena had selected a position in the room where, even though she stood mostly behind her victim, she’d made certain that a large wall mirror reflected her front, so every small cloud and sparkle of emotional sunlight that drifted across Lesley’s face was known to the curvier redhead.<br><br>The cloth was whisked away, leaving the gasp in Lesley’s throat hanging. Another place that seemed to draw a strong response was lightly caressing it across her bottom. The small pert cheeks being noticeably pushed out seeking a stronger touch and the hands in the small of the back twisting their fingers together in anticipation of a more sensuous longer caress.<br><br>Then the obvious more basic moves, drawing the cloth severely tight between the younger woman’s legs, slicing it through her damp crease, dragging, lifting… <strong>“Uh… Mmmm… Yehrr...”</strong> Lesley bit her lip cutting off what was almost a word. So easily pleased. So readily aroused. Squatting a little to saw the cloth against her crotch, Lesley felt sure her mistress would smell her. Eyes tight shut, drifting now on a sea of excitement, she straddled her legs wider apart and bent her knees a little to increase the maddening pressure.<br><br>The cloth stopped, it seemed to become like a taut rope or the ridge of a fence panel, Lesley straddling it maddeningly, half hanging on it, feeling herself deliciously and so hotly divided.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“French maid, was it?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Hm, hm,”</strong> Lesley nodded hastily, almost ready to agree to a pantomime horse costume.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I guess we could arrange for that. I already have most of that particular costume in your size, but when it comes down to it, a costume is something you’re wearing to please me, and you need to learn to anticipate my tastes.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Uhrr…”</strong> Lesley released a moan of frustration as the tight cloth withdrew.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“So I’m going to let you have some input into how we make the top. Do you want it to be low-necked, so you can show yourself off to everybody? Or, would you like something tight and high-necked, that’ll show off your figure but leave you gasping and red-faced trying to keep up with me?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Low. So you can see me,”</strong> the black-haired girl gurgled against the impromptu tourniquet that the masturbating saw-horse had now become. <strong>“But… I have funds… uh, if you like I can pay for one. So you have both styles for me.”</strong> She wondered if such a suggestion had been wise, or was she just seeming too willing?<br><br>Then, as before, that game ended and the silken cloth became a blindfold. Lesley stood, swaying a little at this new sensation, tingles went up her spine, a new frission of excitement, of the <em>unknown</em>. Ms. Sheena’s voice took on a new aspect, her sexy slower tone again. The voice moved away. There was the sound of bedsprings and a clear, and to Lesley, intense invitation to do something to her mistress. With her mouth…<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I’m sure you think of yourself as being far too well-bred to enjoy spending time in proximity with someone who smells of sweat and sex all the time”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <em>Actually, it never occurred to me.</em> <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I haven’t taught you how to properly serve me and any other woman who requests you in the bath, so I guess for now, if you don’t want to offend your bitchy little sensibilities when I want to lay with you, you’ll have to take care of the stench yourself.”<br><br>“Come over here and remove my blouse and skirt. Once they are off, you may use your tongue to bath whatever isn’t still covered by my underwear.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Her mind reeling at the opportunity these orders offered, Lesley turned towards the voice. The mind that had committed to memory the layout of the school had already done the same with the layout of this room. She could have recited back, blindfold the items on Ms. Sheena’s bedside table, or in the bathroom cabinet. She had no fear of turning and moving to the bed, even with her hands still placed loosely behind her. Her knees touched the coverlet. From here on was a foreign land, not only did she not know exactly where her mistress was, but what she would do when she found her was beyond her ability to consider rationally.<br><br>Bringing her hands in front of her and listening carefully for any audible cues she placed them on the bed and then, in a motion unusually cat-like and liquid for one so innocent, she lifted first one knee, then the second and began to crawl forwards, after placing each hand she lifted the other and slowly swept the air three or four inches above the bed seeking the obstacle she knew was there.<br><br>Eventually flesh bumped flesh and the small hesitant hand found something firm and warm and calf-shaped. She ran her fingers up the limb, not so lightly as to tickle and not so slowly as to bore her companion.<br><br><em>Short attention span. Keep busy. Please her. Surprise her.</em><br><br>Within a minute Lesley, on hands and knees, her small chest being dragged by gravity into something fuller and more pleasing looking, that swayed a little in the confines of her light bra, had advanced right around Maree and found the boundaries of the zone she was required to work in. Stopping beside the opposite shoulder to the one she had first encountered after she’d met calf and thigh, hip and hand, she knelt up and reaching tentatively out contacted something soft and warm and heady in its weight and texture. Her fingers skated up her dommes bosom to the older woman’s throat where she quickly and easily, despite shaking fingers, began to undo the buttons.<br><br>Lifting first one hand, then kneeling forwards right across the seated woman to reach the other to work one-handed, Lesley undid both cuffs and with a skating sliding heart and racing pulse peeled the shirt open, back and down, this action bringing her chin, shoulder and breasts into contact with the woman who was changing her life, so slowly yet so surely bringing Lesley from a place of total innocence to a new place, hot, confused, fearful, yet also willing, happy even.<br><br>The scent of Ms. Sheena’s sweat tingled in Lesley’s nostrils, normally a clean girl, she hated being dirty and would never have considered being attracted to one who made so light of personal hygiene. Yet this was Maree Sheena, a class of being of a different order to her other school acquaintances. The stench was Maree’s stench, becoming intoxicated by the one meant becoming intoxicated by the other.<br><br>The shirt was cast aside. In the dark silence Lesley ran her hands down, finding boyish waist and meaty hips and cloth, <strong>“Please Ma’am, if you would turn?”</strong> Reaching round Lesley found the button and zipper at the rear of the garment and drew it down. Running her hands down to the hem she gripped here also, <strong>“And please lift?”</strong> With a swishing sound the lined skirt came off…<br><br><em>I’m stripping her! I’m stripping her! I have her down to her underwear! She’s like me! What colour? What sort?</em> Lesley’s mind worked in overdrive.<br><br>Finally the real test began. With dismay Lesley realised that her mistress would almost certainly become bored long before she finished her task, if her tongue and jaw muscles would even allow that, so knowing she should tackle the stinkiest places first, in order to show willing, Lesley crawled back and now, straddling her thighs so the chunky hips of her D were beneath her, and Lesley had the firm contact of warm flesh all around her, between her legs, she knelt right before and across the older woman and sniffing and listening carefully, detected neck and cleavage and collarbone and armpit and got to work. Her mind a whirl of confusion and fear lest she get a belt across the face again at any second, and her quiet vanilla upbringing screaming at her to stop, to jump up, to run out the door and go wailing down the stairs for help, get me out of here, help! Help!<br><br>But somehow, and for some reason she did not, swallowing back the sharp pang of bile Lesley let the tip of her nose skate across fleshy pungent skin, when it found an especially flavoursome zone, out came her tiny shy tongue and she lapped gently at the moist flesh before her, not even sure exactly what ground she was covering. Taking her turning churning stomach’s complaints in her stride she even asked at one point, for her mistress to lean over and lift an arm, the younger girl dipping her face into that steamy hollow, so lightly furred and so rich in girl-scents and to lap unashamedly at Maree’s armpit.<br><br>And so it proceeded, neck, shoulders, both moist armpits, cleavage (Lesley took especial care here), ribs below her breasts, stomach, down and down.<br><br>It had been almost ten minutes now and surely Ms. Sheena would grow bored soon. Lesley’s mouth began to hurt, her jaw especially and she was running out of spit but the lower she worked, the more the fruity odour of that special place grew stronger, a marine scent, like the tang of kelp on a beach… Lesley wanted to be closer to it.<br><br>She lifted a knee and unstraddled herself, shifting backwards and to one side. Then she had an idea. This wasn’t out of comfort or convenience but merely to give the woman being worshipped something to look at. Lesley as she dipped her head down to the bed and towards the redheads crotch, swivelled her hips so her rear was uppermost, thrust up, her knees a little parted and she wiggled her bottom a small amount as it faced up the bed towards Ms. Sheena’s face.<br><br>Lesley went down on Maree, licking and slurping closer and closer to the place from which that heady scent emanated…
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>14-07-2008, 01:57:24</strong>
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				For one as devoted to the inappropriate application of the thespian’s trade as Maree has shown herself to be, it can at times be difficult for onlookers to separate the act from the reality. So was the case this evening, as she lounged on her mattress watching the diminutive girl attempt to tongue her clean, a thoroughly bemused expression fixed across features. Despite her zeal the pale, blindfolded girl’s body was tense, betraying a deep nervousness that likely stemmed in part from her lack of sight, and in part from her potentially dangerous position, awkwardly attempting to attend to the taller woman’s form.<br><br>While the primary purpose of the exercise was, in Maree’s mind, obviously to gauge her roommate’s reaction to a distasteful and potentially offensive task, in minutes Lesley’s zealous attempts were more than impressive enough to elevate the exercise from “diagnostic” to “headgame”, a category that was quickly becoming the unpredictable domme’s favorite activity. <br><br>“That feels good, Cow,” the domme murmurs, releasing a low, throaty growl as the girl’s tongue passes across her (surprisingly) sensitive armpit. “You may be stupid, but it’s good to know you’re capable of learning quickly.” Even her insults sound half-hearted at this point, potentially giving the thin indentured woman hope that her performance would be well received.<br><br>However, in spite of Maree’s request for a thorough cleaning, she bites off her pleasant mumbling the moment the girl moves elsewhere, her body tensing and one hand idly reaching around the mattress as if groping for a belt or other implement. No matter how obvious her enjoyment to outside viewers the domme apparently acted out of determination to not allow Lesley any time to relax, an intent thoroughly demonstrated as she allows her body language to freely alternate between gentle, languid enjoyment and barely suppressed frustration.<br><br>The uncharacteristic amount of patience Maree displays throughout the exchange testifies to Lesley’s performance, her enjoyment obviously peaking as the slight girl asks her to lean over and expose her underarm. As the girl’s small tongue coasts across the moist, unshaven skin, Maree’s stately posture weakens and her breathing hastens noticeably, her seductive murmurs giving way to a quiet, gasped “M-more” as she leans into her S’s tongue.<br><br>The moment quickly comes and passes, however, and as if in retribution Maree’s body language grows increasingly distant and bored as the spectacle continues. Eventually she tires, or puts on a show of tiring of the entire exercise, and just as Lesley’s tongue begins to dip below her waistline, she takes hold of the girl’s hair and roughly pins the smaller girl’s head to the side of the mattress. “You did very well,” she whispers, her voice harsh with a mixture of lust and enmity, “And since I believe you oh-so prettily asked to be hurt earlier, I think I’m in a good enough mood to grant that request.”<br><br>Having warned the thin girl she pulls her arm back and begins to lightly swat at Lesley’s cheek, taking care to select the fair, as of yet-untouched side of the girl’s face. While her blows lack the angry strength of the morning’s correction they prove to be more than enough to unseat the improvised blindfold, and after several such strokes the soft, fabric has ridden down enough for Lesley to easily see over the top of the skirt. Her position is somewhat limited by the hand still pinning her face to the mattress, but as Maree has chosen to sit across from the slighter woman while administering her punishment, the pale skin of her torso and the unassuming, faded cotton bra that must have seemed ten times as alluring in Lesley’s imagination are both put on display.<br><br>In any event, while the steady stream of swats aimed at Lesley’s cheek lack any real strength they are still more than enough to mark the white skin, prompting Maree to let out a delighted coo as Lesley’s face begins to grow pink. “Your face is going to be covered in bruises tomorrow,” she whispers, eventually halting her assault to plant a series of feather-light kisses and bites across the surface of the girl’s pinned face as she continues “Everybody is going to know what a good girl you are, by how pretty you’ll look.<br><br>Maree, apparently in no hurry to stop confusing the submissive young woman, continues to kiss at the abused flesh for several long minutes, fussing at the girl’s hair and occasionally caressing the inflamed cheek, even as she forces Lesley to sit quietly, her upper torso and head firmly held in place across the mattress throughout the entire exercise.<br><br>After an indeterminable period of tenderly playing with Lesley’s face Maree plants a last, lingering kiss on her cheekbone and, without warning, jerks her hand back to place a final, firm slap at the same location. “Cow did well,” she reassures the girl as she sits up, releasing Lesley’s head to dust her hands off and retrieve her own clothes, pressing them into Lesley’s hands. “You may dress me,” she prompts, apparently failing to notice that the blindfold is loose as she leans back into her customary languid pose and awaits the girl’s attentions. “When you are finished, you may remove your blindfold and retrieve that magazine you were looking at early. I saw you hesitating over a page, and I’d like you to show me what you were looking at.”<br><br>The brief spat of violence appears to have restored Maree’s customary composure she lounges comfortable on the mattress after her thin roommate finishes dressing her, watching the girl with interest as she moves to retrieve the requested article. “Oh, I almost forgot,’ she offers suddenly, “Would you like ice for your face?”<br><br>The pedestrian, almost uncharacteristic offer of kindness marks yet another sudden shift in the dynamic, as in spite of Lesley’s nearly unclothed state, and in spite of Maree’s obvious arousal, she begins to act as if she was unaware of the nearly nude girl’s sexuality. She patiently waits for the magazine to be retrieved and an explanation to be offered, and following the “homework” assignment she even attempts to shed light on Ainsley’s hostility, slowly explaining that her beauty led her to being something of a star among dormitory subs, leaving her in heavy demand among many of the Ds in residence. The manner in which Lesley’s unpracticed innocence attracted attention stood as a potential threat to that popularity leading Ainsley, who was left without direct recourse, attempting to push the new girl under her heel before her own position was usurped. “In any event,” Maree concludes, a hint of sarcasm lacing her voice, “I take it that sums up your immediate confusion? No? I didn’t think so, but sleep on it and see if you can work out it as you observe how things are structured in this place.”<br><br>A long silence follows the unfulfilling and largely unhelpful decree, Maree glancing around the room and letting out a brief yawn before pushing herself off the bed and striding towards the closet, rummaging around inside for a moment before returning triumphantly with a thick, gold-plated chain and two padlocks. “Here, lean forward,” she bids Lesley, her hands darting forward and wrapping the chain around the girl’s wrists before she has a chance to comply. Maree maintains a cheery dialogue as she works, apparently pleased with Lesley’s increasing responsiveness when allowed to speak and participate in her own ordeals. “I would normally lock this around that cute little neck of yours,” she explains, leaning down and sharply nipping the girl’s throat as if to punctuate the statement, “But I don’t have a collar for you yet, and I don’t want you to accidentally choke yourself in the night.” Having explained her reasoning she finishes the elaborate chain wrap around the other girl’s thin wrists, bolting the lengths of chain together with one of the padlocks and giving the assembly an experimental tug to ensure that it’s both tight enough to prevent the girl from slipping her hands out and loose enough to assure good circulation. “I expect,” she continues, wrapping the other end of the chain around the leg of her heavy bedframe and padlocking it in place, “That you wake me if you need to use the bathroom. This carpet is expensive, and I’m not going to be happy if you force me to replace it.”<br><br>Having apparently said all that she feels is necessary, Maree crawls back onto her bed and flops lazily onto her back, rolling over briefly to turn off the lights before apparently falling asleep, wasting no further words on her roommate.<br><br><br>Despite all appearances it would appear as if Maree is not entirely unobservant, as she spends the next several days being maddeningly kind to her new roommate. She takes care to always wash and change behind the locked bathroom door, allowing Lesley no further glances of her enticing and largely unseen physique, and she insists that the slim girl do the same, allowing her only the briefest private moments to shower, change her clothing, and use the restroom.<br><br>Otherwise she insists on the S accompanying her everywhere, dragging the woman from class to meal to class as if in a hurry to show off Lesley and her new French Maid costume to everyone on campus.<br><br>Speaking of showing off, while very little explicitly sexual contact occurs during this period, Maree has the maddening habit of making Lesley attend to humiliatingly menial tasks in public. If Maree’s sneaker comes untied while exercising, Lesley is the one who ties it. If she wants to sit down, Lesley is the one who pulls her chair out and holds her things while she is getting settled. Indeed, for the first several days the sexually charged atmosphere of her first day is largely supplanted by a dull servitude that seems to continue without regard for desire or personal interests.<br><br>Distressingly, with the exception of the nightly “Chain the roommate at the foot of the bed” routine, the closest Maree ever seems to come to indulging in anything remotely sexual with the other woman occurs when she wishes to humiliate her charge in public, a task she most frequently accomplishes by requiring the girl to reprise the first evening’s performance by licking her hands, or face, or on one particularly traumatic occasion her feet, free from some real or imagined contaminant.<br><br>The first break in the tedium fittingly occurs in the evening, several days into the maddeningly mundane routine. In the middle of forcing (or, as has increasingly become the case, letting) Lesley clean their room and set everything in order, Maree casually tells the girl “You seem to be learning much faster than I would have guessed, cow. Most people with any sense of self-satisfaction would have demanded a bed days ago, or at least started dropping subtle complaints. You haven’t, which deserves a reward.” She hesitates for a moment at this point, briefly debating whether or not to continue before she quickly adds “Plus, I’m getting tired of you staring at my ass all day. I was trying to let you concentrate on those maddeningly dull classes of yours, but I’m beginning to think that if I don’t start putting you in your place again, you’ll end up going insane of sheer frustration.”<br><br>Having apparently concluded her unprompted tirade she quickly makes her way towards Lesley and gives the girl an unabashedly salacious look, quite obviously undressing the girl with her eyes. “Undress me for bed,” she murmurs, her voice suddenly seductive, “And if you don’t want to spend another night on the floor, remove your own clothing, too. If you’re going to share a bed, your outfit has to match mine.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>14-07-2008, 21:09:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The processes by which pack animals organise their hierarchy is well known via the medium of television; programmes that might concern hyenas or big cats with their whispered naturalist commentaries. Even in the boardroom and city markets the vying for power games take on an ordered structure, whereby the players know the rules, the do’s and do not’s. Behaviour is constrained by circumstance. Results are predictable.<br><br>Take away the rules, take away the artificial envelope of expectations of the smart suited city, take away the whispered commentary that allows the viewer to take in only what the sweat-stained naturalist wants you to hear and place instead your players in a truly free environment, a place unbounded by any usual conventions where sexual promiscuity is encouraged, the wearing of clothes is optional and the tribe is made up of healthy young people aged between eighteen and twenty two divided firmly into two sub-species: tops and bottoms. In such a society where an order exists only so long as the strongest can maintain it and erotic pleasure in one or more of it’s many flavours is the main reward, it isn’t easy to predict where one particular player might end up. It’s not a simple case of listening to the commentary or guessing who the top (or bottom) dog will be by the cut of his lapels. Here there are the have’s and have not’s, yes, but it’s more a case of do’s and <em>have done to’s</em>.<br><br>It would be very difficult, glancing only at a photograph and her résumé to place Lesley Wingate in such a society.<br><br>Lesley Wingate however, much to her own, and possibly our hypothetical observer’s surprise, was happy in this bizarre new environment.<br><br>A week had gone by.<br><br>More puzzle pieces had dropped into place.<br><br>She had found out ways to please the person who now ruled her life. There were some things Ma’am liked and others she did not. In the dark hours of the night as she lay at the foot of the bed on the carpet in her underwear, not daring to move in case the clinking of the chain at her wrists should waken her sleeping mistress, Lesley would think long and hard, turning everything over, storing, categorizing, analyzing, <em>lusting</em>. After several such puzzling and frustrating nights a strange calm and acceptance came over Lesley. It was difficult to quantify but one thing the young woman did know was she no longer wanted to be away from here, to run out screaming. There was something in the sequence of days and events, even in the random mood shifts and short attention span U-turns that brought Lesley pleasure. She realised she liked the unpredictable, that sense of unease and worry and frission that she lived with. Being in awe of Ma’am suddenly stopping one activity only to start another, the gear change usually punctuated with slaps to her face or rear or a volley of degrading abuse. That was one reason she’d been able to lick her mistress clean that first evening; the blindfold. Lacking vision, her levels of fear and uncertainty had risen and no doubt Ma’am had seen this and made the most of it.<br><br>Lesley liked the unpredictability, the sense of out-of–control in her situation, the constant agony of wondering if the next minute she would be kissed or bruised. Would she spend today being slapped and nibbled by her D, or be given to some other random person to enjoy? Be hurt by? It fed a certain need in her.<br><br>It was the complete antithesis of her former life.<br><br>She had spent almost nineteen years in an ordered calm routine never once realising that by burying herself so deep in it she was screaming for escape from it.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Lesley also noted that around the Halls there were a considerable number of young men, not quite but almost fifty percent of the school. The pairings that went on seemed to be very closely split between female-female, female-male and male-male and within Hartley where the D’s would often humiliate their S’s with enforced nudity there were enough submissive males around for her to see fully naked men several times in that week; and in clear states of excitement too, something she had never witnessed in the flesh before.<br><br>Her mind went back to her meeting with James. He had seemed nice enough, not so nasty as Agnetha, though rather treacly, yet while Agnetha still drifted uncomfortably in the back of her thoughts James had vanished and the summary disposal of his note to which there had been not a single further reference did not fill her with one scrap of concern. Yet the sight of nude or near nude females and especially the sight of her own domme, curvaceously and succulently deporting around their room often in her underwear, made Lesley add a second firmly bolted puzzle piece alongside the first.<br><br>She preferred girls.<br><br>She didn’t know why since the thought had hardly occurred to her in all the years before that moment she’d got out of the taxi that first day, yet now, after a week, she knew. She didn’t question why, she just revelled in the joyous fact that chance had placed her in the care of this woman instead of a male.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Ms. Sheena had asked her that first night if Lesley would like an ice pack for her bruised face. Without a moment’s hesitation she had declined, explaining that she wanted to be seen around the school the next day with the marks on her that her mistress had caused. <br><br>Apparently satisfied with that response, Ms. Sheena had planted further tender kisses on the abused cheek, finishing the evening with a final slap and a comment that made Lesley’s heart soar: “Cow did well.”<br><br>Cow was very happy that night, she even happily responded to the instruction to show her mistress the page in the magazine that had caught her eye:<br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/FrenchMaid_Stockings.jpg)<br><br>And another:<br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/bunnygirl.jpg)<br><br>And others:<br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Cincher1.jpg) (http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/PinkCorset.jpg)<br><br>She explained haltingly and blushingly that she found such underwear appealing and the idea of wearing a corset that would pinch down her waist and reduce her lung capacity excited her. Especially one with a low bodice that supported her bust but left the nipples uncovered. She even, in a nervous fit of boldness, suggested that Ma’am would look very good in such a garment.<br><br>That first night, as she shivered, almost naked, in the cool air of the small hours of the morning, Lesley did, as she’d feared, need the bathroom. But kneeling up with a gentle clinking of links and observing the sleeping form of her mistress she could not bring herself to wake her, despite the pressure in her bladder. So it was than in the three hours before Ma’am rose for breakfast Lesley knelt, curled over the end of the bed, whimpering in discomfort but refusing to disturb the sleeper and refusing to wet the carpet. Needless to say, in the morning, Ms. Sheena took full advantage of her sub’s plight by taking a leisurely shower before her victim, now almost crying from pain and the sound of running water, was permitted relief.<br><br>After that, Lesley always made sure she drank little before bedtime and <em>always</em> used the bathroom before sleeping. She maintained it as a matter of pride that she would not, unless the very dorm were burning down, disturb her mistress’ sleep. <br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>A week passed in which Lesley decided that her uncontrolled display of lust on that first evening as Ms. Sheena had almost sawn her quite gorgeously in two with that maddening silken rolled cloth, caused her D to withhold any further sexual favours from her. The week passed in a sexless series of days punctuated by a few slaps and hair pulls, pinches and acerbic asides. Not that the time was without it’s interest. Just walking behind her D allowed Lesley a very interesting view, one that Ms. Sheena did not have and this made Lesley smile some days. Watching Ms. Sheena’s bountiful and swaying rear she relished the fact that she owned a small advantage over her keeper.<br><br>The French maid’s outfit was another issue though. Happy to wear it for her mistress in their room, it did not seem right to have herself on display for everybody. Everyone knew Ms. Sheena owned her, the bruises on her body and her servant attitude testified to that, but it upset and angered Lesley that the special costume she had chosen for her mistress’ pleasure would be devalued by her wearing it in public. Because of this Lesley some days wore a dark scowl. Her mild disposition was such that she could never stretch to displays of outright anger or resentment such as she’d seen that dreadful French girl wear that first night, but knowing her meekness Ms. Sheena easily detected that the unhappy pout indicated strong feelings.<br><br>There was no sexual contact at all in private either, Ms. Sheena making sure they never once shared the bathroom, despite Lesley’s desire to bathe her mistress. Their mutual states of undress never proceeded beyond bra and panties, the style of clothing Ms. Sheena favoured keeping all the erogenous zones between neck and ribs and between waist and thighs comprehensively concealed. Lesley frequently chose her most alluring, girlish and sheer styles but these seemed to have no effect, or if they did, Ms. Sheena, always the expert at acting, gave no indication.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * *<br><br>Then, one evening after dinner, this sexless phase of vanilla servitude came to an end. Lesley was cleaning the room, tidying Ms. Sheena’s study things away while the older woman lounged on the bed, amusing herself with a magazine, appearing to not even be interested in Lesley’s flirtatious show of stocking tops and décolletage.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“You seem to be learning much faster than I would have guessed, cow. Most people with any sense of self-satisfaction would have demanded a bed days ago, or at least started dropping subtle complaints. You haven’t, which deserves a reward.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> At those last words <em>‘deserves a reward’</em> the young girl’s ears pricked up. In Ms. Sheena’s scheme of things a reward might be anything from a peck on the cheek to being allowed to disrobe her, to being made wet and needy by her teasing burrowing fingers, to a black eye. The range of potential was as wide as the older woman’s imagination. Lesley turned and looked at the person addressing her, as long as she tilted her torso forwards, eye contact had become the norm now.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Plus, I’m getting tired of you staring at my ass all day.” <em>I’m not.</em> “I was trying to let you concentrate on those maddeningly dull classes of yours, but I’m beginning to think that if I don’t start putting you in your place again, you’ll end up going insane of sheer frustration.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> This commentary still did not reveal her purpose: pain or pleasure could equally be the end result of this monologue.<br><br>Ms. Sheena got up, made her way over to her maid and wore a sultry look (whether real or put on wasn’t clear) that made Lesley’s head spin. The next words, delivered in a gentle murmur made a prickle of heat bloom in Lesley’s mid-section.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Undress me for bed, and if you don’t want to spend another night on the floor, remove your own clothing, too. If you’re going to share a bed, your outfit has to match mine.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Hardly able to believe her ears (or luck) Lesley put down the books and bobbed a small curtsey, her voice quavering with uncertainty <strong>“Yes, Ma’am.”</strong><br><br>Her fingers jittering this time not from raw fear but from almost uncontained glee, Lesley reached up at once (delaying was a sure way to get slapped or bore her roommate – which usually resulted in the same ending) and began to unbutton Ms. Sheena’s blouse. Working quickly at buttons and cuffs and pushing the garment off and away she bent a little, reached around to get at the catch and zip of the skirt (an action that brought her face into close and heady contact with the warm valley of Ms. Sheena’s expansive and pillow-like bust), before this second outer garment soon joined it’s partner on the floor.<br><br>Ms. Sheena had previously divested herself of shoes and socks while lounging on the bed so now Lesley’s eager hands reached back around the older woman, enjoying the feel of her sensuous soft flesh, to unclasp her enormous and firmly underwired brassiere.<br><br>The garment dropped away and still revelling in the wearer’s body heat from the cloth as she let it fall, Lesley allowed her gaze to rest on that which, for a week, she had so often thought about. She drew in an audible breath at the magnificent sight.<br><br>Ms. Sheena was not fat, nor even chubby, and she was only twenty; her body showed no signs of sag or flab. She was firm; she was just – big. Like many red-heads she was big-boned and fleshy. She was, Lesley thought, an absolute vision. Her skin, though white from lack of exposure to sunshine and bearing a pleasing crop of freckles across her shoulders as many red-heads do, was, Lesley (with a silent gurgle of delight in her throat) admitted, quite, quite stunning. Her breasts were large and firm, the heavy duty underwear clearly doing it’s proper job of preventing future sag rather than coping with it now. The older woman’s nipples were pale and thick, veritable thimbles standing up from wide pale pink aureoles.<br><br>For a crazy hot few seconds Lesley was angry, <em>why didn’t you let me see you before?! I could have soaped you, dressed you, kissed you, worshipped you all week! What a waste!</em><br><br>Swallowing dryly Lesley suddenly broke out of her frowning reverie and remembered she had been given a task to do. Kneeling smartly before the taller woman she hooked her fingers into the waist elastic of the huge cotton drawers and pulled swiftly down, her mistress raising first one ankle, then the other while maintaining balance by the simple expedient of pushing the fingers of her hands into Lesley’s hair and painfully gripping.<br><br>Today had been a normal school day without any special extra exertions, the weather warm but not hot. Though Ms. Sheena wore no man-made scents she was not sweaty today and the odour from her skin was merely that of woman; warm, a slight fruity musk, a little tangy perhaps but delightful in Lesley’s nostrils. The intense aroma of their first encounter a week ago was today mostly absent.<br><br>Hardly even daring to look at the place she so wanted to, registering only an expansive mat of close-cropped hair the same colour as on her head, Lesley rose back up and stepping back two paces so as to give a better display, reached up and behind her neck to undo the catch of her maid’s dress. Pulling down the cap sleeves and shimmying out of the heavy satin-product material she let it fall, stepping daintily out of it and laying it over a chair. With fumbling hands and eyes that could not tear themselves away from the beauty before her, she divested herself quickly of everything else, the white fluffy crinoline, black bra, panties, shoes, suspender belt and stockings all being rapidly cast aside in almost indecent haste.<br><br>Finally she was done, and not having had one second to stop and consider that for the first time in her life she was nude in the presence of another person, and alone, <em>and in a bedroom</em>, and she <em>was naked too</em>, Lesley stood awaiting her mistress’ next instruction, her rapid breaths coming in audible breathy rasps as her bare breasts, the small dark nipples already stiffening, rose and fell. Rather cutely, and evidently forgotten, a little white froth of lace that was attached to a hair band and apologised as a maid’s cap still sat in her hair. <br><br>She didn’t know where to look. Eye contact seemed rude, looking at the carpet between them reminded her of the proximity of that lush and tantalizing triangular lawn of red yet raising her gaze higher brought into view the most awesome parts of her mistress’ body; she dare not look uninvited there either.<br><br>Casting her gaze down and aside, a slight bloom of pink fetchingly growing on her cheekbones, and standing with hands held neatly behind her, Lesley waited for whatever might happen next.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>14-07-2008, 22:26:41</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well aren't we enthusiastic," Maree observes with some amusement, laying both hands on her hips and subtly twisting her torso as if seeking the best light in which to show off her figure. She opens her mouth as if to lay her accustomed string of abuses on the smaller girl but apparently thinks better of it, choosing instead to slowly saunter towards the surprisingly enthusiastic Lesley, forcing the girl to anticipate her approach.<br><br>The maid hat and hairband fall victim to Maree’s irritated attention as soon as she draws close, the busty woman snatching the garment, tossing it to the floor, and leaning forward to angrily nip at Lesley’s right ear. “We’re going to have a very long, very thorough lesson about attentiveness,” she murmurs, mercilessly abusing the flesh with her teeth as she continues “But if I were to properly heel you every time you fucked up, I wouldn’t have time to do anything else”.<br><br>“In any case,” she continues, releasing the flesh of Lesley’s ear and pressing her hands into the other girl’s, in a repeat of the first day’s gesture, “I don’t see any reason why I should do all of the work for you. I want you to show me exactly where you like to be touched, and perhaps if I’m feeling generous I’ll show you where you will learn to enjoy touching me.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>14-07-2008, 23:21:37</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The small girl quaked in fear as her D drew close, she wanted to look, she wanted to stare and touch and sigh but she didn’t know if any of these things needed permission first. She smiled as the flounce of white lace attached to the hair band was sent skimming across the room, accompanied by the expected threat.<br><br><em>You thought I forgot that, didn’t you…?</em><br><br>Lesley gasped in pain as the taller woman bent and bit her earlobe, but she made herself stand still.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“We’re going to have a very long, very thorough lesson about attentiveness.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <em>Thank you!</em><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“But if I were to properly heel you every time you fucked up, I wouldn’t have time to do anything else.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley had always enjoyed reading and writing and playing with words, doing word games in her head, one of the weird fun things she did was reverse things to feel the humour in them, now quite unwittingly her mind played a trick on her: <em>“If I were to properly fuck you every time you heeled, I wouldn’t have time to do anything else.”</em> Despite the sharp nipping pain in her ear, that irreverent thought made Lesley smile and she wiggled her chest a little so that, quite wonderfully, her front dragged across Maree’s, the two women’s breasts skating softly and deliciously together a couple of times. The height difference prevented their nipples touching but Lesley was beyond worrying about details now.<br><br>She was touching Ms. Sheena! Her bare body was against hers! Heaven!<br><br>Ms. Sheena then let her ear go and her warm breath breezed against her neck and suddenly finding her hands holding her mistress’ again in a repeat of last weeks abortive incident Lesley suddenly had an idea.<br><br>Stepping back and with a frightful deep blush crimsoning her innocent face and still so obviously shaking with nerves, she took her mistress’ hands in hers and moved to the bed, putting one knee up, then the other and shuffling sideways on, encouraging the older woman to follow. Wordlessly she knelt up, her knees parted and waited for Ms. Sheena to do the same. Once she was settled Lesley pushed one knee between the open knees of her lover, shuffling forward so they were interlaced (though not fully pressed home against their obvious respective targets). Then placing Ms. Sheena’s left hand on her right hip, she drew the other woman’s right hand onto her own thigh, skating it slowly up, held in her hand, to her hip, around the curve of her bottom, then to her waist and up her side. Still silent and biting her lip in trepidation she drew Ms. Sheena’s hand over the curve of her breast, her own stiff nipple indicating to her how excited she was before drawing it up to her own neck, and jaw-line where she lay her face on its side into the cupping palm. Nuzzling there a moment and sighing, she turned her head a little and kissed Maree’s wrist, her lips closed and chaste, before repeating the kiss and moving her head forwards kissing tenderly and slowly down the inside of the held-out forearm until she reached the hollow of her elbow where she kissed more deeply and her tongue darted out to lick the flavoursome recess.<br><br>This forward move had allowed Ms. Sheena’s hand to rise up the back of Lesley’s neck and into her hair and she twisted her head a little to encourage that caress, tilting her head away and showing the other woman the side of her neck.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>14-07-2008, 23:45:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				As she indulges Lesley and follows her onto the bed Maree's slow, languid movements resemble nothing so much as a predator toying with its prey, the redhead indulging herself by allowing her dark-haired roommate to try and choreograph the encounter.<br><br>Maree's hands do not appear to have inherited the rest of her body’s patience, however and as Lesley makes a show at trying to guide them over her form she finds the process frequently interrupted as the larger girl indulges herself in pinching or roughly squeezing whatever surface her hands happen to be coasting over, the girl paying a particular amount of attention to Lesley’s hips and maddeningly little to her breasts.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>As the process continues, however, Maree’s active participation begins to give way to Lesley’s initiatives, her interest in watching her roommate guide the encounter trumping the many, many sadistic impulses that occur to her as she watches the girl work. An attentive observer might even notice the way in which her breathing quickens, and by the time her hand reaches the back of Lesley’s head she doesn’t even bother to caress the girl’s hair, seemingly content to let her hand sit idly in Lesley’s, her pale chest heaving in a markedly undignified manner.<br><br>The touch of the tiny pink tongue to her forearm seems to be the last resort for Maree, and as Lesley begins to coat the hollow of her elbow she bites off a pleased whimper. “You don’t have to be so gentle,” she murmurs in a barely audible growl, the girl almost swooning as she begins to descend towards the bed before straightening up again, insistently pressing toward Lesley’s tongue as she urges her “Do what you can to make me feel good, if you think you’re capable”.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>15-07-2008, 22:03:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The tone of voice Ms. Sheena used was alien to Lesley, even though she understood it perfectly: the woman was aroused. Lesley paused, stunned a moment, before pushing on, knowing that to pause was to invite disaster, to show hesitation was to show weakness, to stop would mean pain.<br><br>The noise of the older woman's breathing filled her ears, the heavy laboured drifting sound, each indrawn and heavily exhaled breath something so unnervingly beautiful Lesley could hardly bear it. <em>She</em> was arousing this woman, innocence was leading experience…<br><br><em>I can’t believe it’s happening… this isn’t happening… how can I interest her…? Unless she likes it clumsy? Likes the idea of innocence…?</em> Lesley at this point merely ceased to think and to analyse, it had become clear that her taking the red-head’s hands and guiding them over her body had been forgotten and it was now a case of feeding the lusts consuming her mistress.<br><br>Her brain in a whirl, unable to quite believe what she was doing or that Ma’am was letting her do it, Lesley continued to kiss and lick up the inside of Maree’s right arm, knowing full well that her mistress would have worked out the obvious destination for those kisses.<br><br>Experimentally, and in effect having been ordered to do so, she nipped a little with her teeth, pulling the soft skin between her incisors and squeezing, leaving tiny red and white pinched marks. She carried on and leaning forwards this brought the two women into close contact, Lesley in order to get at her goal shuffled forward, her knee pressed against her domme’s warm furred crotch and simultaneously her own core squeezed against the older woman’s knee… <em>hm…</em> pressing closer Lesley almost <em>rubbed</em> her groin up and along the woman’s thigh. Soon her biting teeth reached their target and she pushed her head under the arm, with her left hand lifting it. No sooner did her mouth descend down to that most wondrous warm fragrant hollow than with a heavy sigh and a half encouraging <strong><em>“Yes, that’s it,”</em></strong> Maree Sheena folded gracelessly backwards and onto one side, her legs half straightening and her right, and now upper, arm thrown up.<br><br>Lesley fell forwards but braced herself in time on her outstretched hands, palms flat on the coverlet, her right by Ms. Sheena’s head, at which opportunity the red-head shifted her face and bit at Lesley’s wrist quite hard.<br><br><strong><em>“I don’t recall telling you to stop,”</em></strong> the stiff reprimand came, the sultry heated tones at once replaced by colder ones.<br><br><em>I don’t get you! I just don’t! One second you sound pleased, even excited… then next you’re impatient and cross! Do you like this or not? Do you want me or not? How can I…? How can I know to please you when it all feels like an act?</em> Getting no answer but her mistress remaining prone, Lesley decided to press on, or at least try to…<br><br>She was however struck by how truly beautiful Ma’am was, in repose, her sumptuous curves lost nothing of their wonder, laying on her side even emphasized that she did, indeed have something of a waist, less hour-glass shaped than Lesley’s thinner form but still magnificent, especially when she lay this way, the splendid mountain of her hip uppermost and with her arm thrown up that sacred armpit and the side of one gorgeous large creamy breast exposed. She looked like a lady Reubens would have killed in order to paint.<br><br>With a barely suppressed whimper Lesley pushed on, one of her knees still between Maree’s legs, her slim thigh pressing against the warm crotch and her own burning core straddling the magnificent hip, <em>like a young girl rider on a unpredictable mare</em> Lesley found the irreverent thought bubbling up into her mind quite unbidden. Then kissing and biting at the proffered under arm she got back to work, now moving her nose and tongue deep into the scented lightly furred hollow. <em>She shaves</em> Lesley thought, though it was clear that Ms. Sheena had not done so for some time, several weeks at least. Not understanding why, the tickly stubble was the least of Lesley's concerns though, emanating from the hot secret place was the most heavenly scent, lacking only that special pungency Lesley had enjoyed only a week ago, when blindfolded, she had been forestalled as she’d licked down towards her mistress' pantyline. This scent nonetheless was overpoweringly exotic and snuffling away happily the virgin girl licked, kissed and bit at the womanly crease, her clumsy efforts being rewarded with low incoherent grunts and gasps of what surely were delight.<br><br>Finally she moved on, in a direction she knew she wanted to but which she wasn’t sure the person she was serving did. Quitting the armpit she kissed over that magical curve, the upper side of the breast where the muscles form up into the armpit and side of the ribcage just as flesh and muscle become actual mammary, a special curve and one Lesley found especially entrancing on her mistress since unlike her own it was so bountiful. She kissed and bit across here then let her mouth descend to that place she needed to taste.<br><br>With an almost childlike gurgle, Maree Sheena rolled onto her back and as Lesley’s face and mouth curved across her soft body and the hot eager little mouth found her warm stiff peak and settled there to suckle like a baby Ms. Sheena put a hand in the long black hair and gripped it painfully pulling at the scalp and making Lesley’s eyes water, pressing her down harder.<br><br><strong><em>“Bite,”</em></strong> came the unequivocal order. Lesley nibbled tentatively, drowning in joy at being given this heady prize to taste and drowning in pain as her scalp was harshly pulled. <strong><em>“I said bite, cow!”</em></strong> The hand yanked the head up so quickly that Lesley’s teeth were still gripping the nipple as she moved, the tender teat being pulled up like the point of a tent. <strong><em>“When I invite you into my bed it’s to fuck me, cow, not to wash me, that’s for bathtime. Now bite!”</em><br><br>“I’m trying! Really I am, I want to please you, I…I… I’ve never done this before, I’m trying to learn, let me…”<br><br><em>“You are trying, you cunt. Very. And you <span class="bbc_u">will</span> please me…”</em></strong><br><br>Pushing her away and shoving her hard so the smaller girl rolled off the bed and thumped onto the red deep pile, Ms. Sheena got languorously up and went towards her, her erstwhile expression of uncontrolled lust now replaced by another much more fierce look that Lesley, crumpled on the floor, was fortunate not to see.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>16-07-2008, 00:14:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Your duties are not that difficult," Maree lectures, her voice taking on a bored, almost detached quality as she rumages through her drawers, pointedly ignoring the crumpled figure next to her bed as she searches for something in particular. She spins around after several seconds and quickly returns to the side of the bed, apparently having found what she was looking for.<br><br>Maree, apparently in no mood for subtlety, wastes no time in revealing the object of her search, and with a quick snap of her wrist she uncoils a newly acquired length of long leather cord, allowing the twisted implement to briefly coast over Lesley's shoulders before she pulls it back and angrily snaps her arm forward, propelling the tip to collide with the younger girl's fair skin, letting off a sickening snapping noise that seems to echo in spite of the heavy carpet and drapes.<br><br>"I spend so much time thinking about what would turn you on," she comments lightly, her cold voice betraying neither cruelty nor arousal as she begins to casually flick the length of leather against Lesley's thighs and waist, spacing the blows at odd intervals in order to prevent the girl from predicting when each abusive stroke would land. "I tried pampering you, and even when it was obvious that you sought out punishment, I treated you as gently as I thought you could handle." Although each individual blow with the improvised whip is fairly light, apparently regular use has caused the tip to fray, lending the implement a decidedly uncomfortable sting each time it bites into the pale flesh of the still-prone girl. "But what happens when I try to reward you with the tiniest bit of responsibility? You manage to screw it up, just like the stupid cow you are."<br><br><br>Having apparently finished her tirade, Maree lets her whipping arm drop to her side, the sudden absence of leather striking flesh making the room sound strangely quiet. Only a few seconds pass before Maree speaks again, her cold voice having been replaced with the chillingly seductive tones that often accompanied her play. "Who said you were allowed off of the bed, hmm?" she inquires, her soft voice frighteningly mild as she takes hold of Lesley's hair and forcefully pulls the girl toward the bedspread. "I gave you such simple instructions," she repeats, lightly propelling Lesley onto the bedspread and testily ordering her "Lay on your back, and lower your head over the edge of the bed to look at me.”<br><br>Maree, apparently unaware of how perfectly Lesley’s new posture allows her to stare at her bare, if painfully untended (and now upside-down) netherquarters, spends a long moment gleefully staring down at the supine figure, taking her time and enjoying the other girl’s exposed position. After a moment she leans forward, her still-bare breasts succumbing to gravity’s pull several scant inches from Lesley’s face as she reaches down and tugs at the bedsheets under the thin woman’s head, revealing several thick D-rings that have been anchored into the bed frame. With a polished hand that speaks of substantial practice she snakes the leather cord through the ring closest to Lesley’s left ear and, after letting off some slack, threads the other end through the ring closest to her right. Having fashioned something of a half-noose she roughly takes a handful of the slim girl’s hair and presses her head through the U-shaped loop of leather, tightening both ends until the taught cord rests snugly against the younger woman’s throat, securing her head against the side of the bed.<br><br>Maree quickly repeats the procedure with her wrists, binding each thin limb to the side of the bed with a short length of leather cord. Sitting back on the bed to admire her handiwork she lets out a soft, disapproving sigh, leaning forward and experimentally running her hands over Lesley’s small chest as she murmurs “Honestly, this is much more fun when I do it to another D. Cow looks helpless and useless no matter what she is doing, and especially after that horrific performance, I can’t imagine she needs to be taught that.”<br><br>In spite of her words Maree’s strokes quickly turn to pinches and painful squeezes, and after briefly amusing herself by brutally pinching and twisting the small nipples that had for days practically cried out for attention, she proceeds to climb on top of the slighter girl’s torso, settling her weight uncomfortably high on Lesley’s torso. “I think you know this routine,” she murmurs, her body tensing as she begins to slowly, methodically slap the sides of Lesley’s breasts, changing sides every few strokes, “But that doesn’t mean you deserve it any less.” Indeed, the torso is capable of absorbing significantly more punishment than the delicate face, and the redhead is not shy to exert her strength, each lazily applied blow raising a resounding noise as her open hand collides with slight flesh.<br><br>“Cow needs to practice following instructions in public,” she hisses, “So that we don’t need to go through this every time I give her a simple command in private.” While her voice never approaches “threatening”, the speed and manner with which her performance has quickly developed from “angry” to “seductive” to now “theatrical” would be enough to unsettle many who knew her.<br><br>As Lesley’s flesh begins to darken under the blows Maree resumes her tirade, pointedly instructing the girl “From now on, we will arrive in class ten minutes early each day. Before class begins you will move your chair to the front of the room, and inform the class that you would like them to watch you masturbate.” The punishing blows cease as she makes her announcement, the clinical language in which she has phrased it making the command somewhat more menacing than Maree’s casual use of profanity could ever have aspired to do.<br><br>After spending a brief moment inspecting her handiwork she crawls off of Lesley’s form and slaps at her thigh, impatiently chiding the girl “Lift your knees to your chest, as if I were taking your temperature for your physical”. The random reference stands a good chance at being lost on Lesley, particularly as most doctors, having been trained somewhere other than Hartley Hall, failed to include fetishistic roleplay as an element of their basic clinical practices. Regardless of this Maree wastes no time in making her reference clear, the girl’s fingers pushing downwards to probe insistently at Lesley’s puckered anus, pressing against it threateningly before drawing away.<br><br>Several heart-stopping seconds of searching follow this exchange, Lesley going apparently unnoticed as Maree crawls to the side of the bed and searches for yet another implement. This search goes much more quickly than the last, however, and her roommate only has several moments of reprieve before Maree’s voice calls “Here it is!” from the side of the bed, the announcement quickly being followed by the sound of something firm colliding with the flesh of her hand. While she doesn’t bother showing the tool to Lesley, Maree has in fact retrieved a wide paddle fashioned out of thick plastic and covered in small holes apparently intended to make the implement easier to wield. The domme wastes no time in turning her new tool to Lesley’s upturned rearquarters, the unmistakable sound of a hard, flat surface colliding with a curved, significantly softer surface filling the room. “Now where was I?” Maree wonders from her perch on the side of the bed, the girl having obviously relaxed a bit as she gleefully paddles Lesley’s upturned bottom. “Oh yes, the masturbation. After getting the class’s attention you will remove your knickers, and you will make yourself come in front of them.” Her voice takes on a warning edge, although at this point the ability to discriminate her moods, or, for that matter, to make sense of her words, is likely a luxury that Lesley does not have.<br><br>This is obviously no concern of Maree’s, however, and she happily continues her explanation even as she tends to pinking the smaller girl’s raised bum, gleefully applying her paddle in a fast, steady rhythm as she studiously attempts to leave no section of the Lesley’s bottom untouched. “You will make yourself come,” she repeats, her voice growing louder to ensure that she is heard over the slow smacking of the paddle, “And if you do not finish in the ten minutes I give you, I will allow one of your classmates to finish for you.” Maree seems to delight in the harsh announcement, the woman now gleefully swinging her arm with each stroke, each impact harsher than the last. “I can’t be bothered to remember who your professors are,” she muses, her nude flesh beginning to glisten from exertion as she begins to draw the spanking to a close, “But if any of your classes are taught by a reasonably attractive woman, I think they would be delighted to help finish your task for you.” With that, Maree finishes her own task, bringing the paddle forward to cruelly collide with the S’s practically glowing bottom.<br><br>“Hmm, what do you think,” she murmurs in the sudden silence, leaning forward to run her hands across the recently abused flesh, “Should we go to the gym before class tomorrow? Goodness knows cow needs the exercise, and I think she would enjoy half an hour on one of the rowing machines.”<br><br>Apparently bored with the physical abuse Maree finally crawls across the bed and loosens the cords binding Lesley’s wrists and neck, smug in the knowledge that although the physical restraint was in place for less than ten minutes, claustrophobia, confusion, and pain would’ve likely made the experience seem much longer.<br><br>“Bring a chair over here and sit your ass down in front of the mirror,” she bids the girl, standing as she impatiently, and perhaps a bit demurely, crosses her arms over her chest. “Get a magazine if you need it,” she taunts, “Or find something else that excites you. Either way, I just realized that I’ve never actually seen you please yourself, and I’d very much like to get a sneak preview before I show you off to an entire room.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>18-07-2008, 22:45:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lesley cowered in fear and shame at the foot of the bed, she’d tried to arouse her mistress, she really had, tried her best, but she just was not used to this, she’d never done this before. Didn’t Ms. Sheena realise?<br><br>Suddenly there was a sharp snap of pain on her skin and Lesley yelped, not so much because it hurt (though it did) but from surprise. Then, kneeling in place because she’d not been told to move, the black-haired girl stayed, head down in a foetal position as her mistress berated her and flicked the maddening little thong to and fro across her thighs, hips and waist, each blow being like a burning little insect sting, not that painful but enough to draw from the inexperienced girl sharp whimpers and gasps.<br><br>After a few minutes the beating ended and Lesley thought she might receive instructions to continue where she’d left off.<br><br>She was to be sorely disappointed. The abuse she’d witnessed and received her first day had been followed by a week or more of nothing very much other than onerous but simple servitude and varying levels of humiliation, the enforced exposure in the maids dress being the worst she’d had to endure. Lesley had thought (the silly girl) that this was to be her lot, that this is what life as the sub of Ms. Sheena would amount to – other than hoping she’d be allowed into her bathroom and bed and to pleasure her which she’d hoped would come soon. If she just did as she was told, what could go wrong?<br><br>Lesley simply had no idea what she was embarking on, though she had learned a lot in a week, now Ms. Sheena began a tougher phase of their relationship the purpose of which was to simply heap degradation and humiliation and shame on Lesley until she broke, or accepted these things and dealt with them. If she broke, Ms. Sheena would disgustedly dump her on some lesser domme and Lesley’s life therewith would no doubt be even worse. In order for her to accept and deal with what was coming over the next few days, the Wingate girl would <em>have</em> to undergo a paradigm shift in her understanding of what it meant to be a submissive and come to terms with a complete reversal of the meaning of human privacy and shame and those acts usually done behind closed doors. But right now, she was unwittingly entering upon the last few hours and minutes of her former life; that which had occurred so far at Belamward would, it transpired, bear more relation to her old life than the new. The new, was to be a lot different; and Lesley had no conception whatsoever of <em>how</em> different. <br><br>A chillingly sensual and playful series of comments followed the mild whipping.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Who said you were allowed off of the bed, hmm?"<br><br>"I gave you such simple instructions."<br><br>"Lay on your back, and lower your head over the edge of the bed to look at me."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Being pulled up roughly by her hair, Lesley had no option, but already her conditioning made her obey, and obey quickly and meekly, she didn’t want to annoy her mistress any more than she already had. Despite her nudity she quickly lay down, her head dangling off the foot of the bed, her white throat exposed. She looked at Ms. Sheena, all the more impressive upside down, as the older woman stood looking down at her, her legs a little parted, Lesley’s gaze drawn helplessly to this enticing new angle on her domme’s wonderful body.<br><br>For a time the two naked women regarded each other, it not being clear which was enjoying the view more, although as Lesley still involuntarily jerked from time to time as her body coped with the stinging little bites from the leather cord, in response to which twitches, her chest gently moved, perhaps Ms. Sheena enjoyed the better entertainment. <br><br>Then Lesley’s eyes opened wide as a pair of magnificent breasts dangled over her face only to gasp in alarm and then cough as the erstwhile weapon was converted into an uncomfortable device of restraint. Her eyes opened wide and she whimpered as Maree busied herself tying off her wrists to other rings at the lower end of the sides of the bed, placing her in something like a crucifix posture but with her head bent awkwardly back and down, the taut leather thong across her windpipe.<br><br>Lesley gurgled in fear at being trapped in place quite aware her body was so exposed, although bubbling underneath that fear was a new and powerful sensation, made all the stronger as she wiggled her wrists which merely reinforced the whirling new emotion.<br><br><strong>“Ma’am?”</strong> she gasped, unsure what was happening. Her poorly articulated appeal was barely out when Ms. Sheena, sighing unhappily, languidly reached out a hand and caressed her bare and terribly exposed chest. <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Honestly, this is much more fun when I do it to another D. Cow looks helpless and useless no matter what she is doing, and especially after that horrific performance, I can’t imagine she needs to be taught that.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley frowned, failing to understand, her thinking that some kind of sex act would follow her being put into bondage was sharply disabused when Maree climbed onto the bed and painfully straddled her middle, sitting high up just below her ribcage, squashing her.<br><br><strong>“Uhnnn, please… heavy…”</strong> Lesley might be useless at lots of things but one thing she excelled at was stating the bleeding obvious. Her comment was ignored.<br><br>Maree then set to work, her caresses becoming painful pinches, while Lesley, her head bent uncomfortably back and unable to lift it without cutting off her air supply, coughed and gagged and moaned and yipped like a kicked puppy at the painful nips, seconds later as her tender and still stiff nipples were painfully twisted and abused she yelped in pain and cried out, or rather, she did so as much as the leather thong across her throat permitted, the light punishment taking on a more sinister aspect since she was unable to see it, staring upside down at the far wall and it’s low coffee table and sofa, the mirror above it offering no help in seeing what was going on, on the bed. At one point Lesley cried out loudly as both her nipples were gripped between her tormentor’s knuckles and painfully hauled out taut and twisted round.<br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Hartley_Room10.jpg)<br><br><strong>“No, please!”</strong> This was the worst, not being able to see the pain being inflicted. Having no idea what was coming next.<br><br>What did come next was potentially worse still as Ms. Sheena began to slap Lesley’s soft, pretty breasts, their liquid form bouncing attractively about and pinking under a veritable storm of moderate to heavy blows. To Lesley however this discomfort was more bearable than the twisting and pinching, since the pain was less sharp and was more predictable. She lay there, struggling for breath under the pinning weight of her torturer, gagging against the taut leather and mentally drowning in the conflicting sensations of her very first experience (apart from the merely confusing and scary first day in Agnetha’s lap) of being tied up. It went on for a long while and eventually Maree smiled a wicked smile… the soft breasts turned a darker and very pretty red but most significantly their nipples remained turgid, seemingly more so the longer the beating continued and Lesley’s cries of pain slowly changed; her initial shocked calls of <strong>“No! Hurtssss… please…”</strong> giving way over time to something that can only be written as: <strong>“Nnn, hurrnnn, uhmm, no, nnnn…”</strong> and finally among the low cries it became evident that the sharp calls of pain and begging to stop faded away and these sorts of noises predominated: <strong>“Nnn… ohh, oooh, oh yeah… yeah…. Uhn!”</strong><br><br>Maree’s smile at that was particularly evil, she became of the mind that had she not been sitting on her victim, those abused and deep reddened breasts would by now be being thrust up to all the better offer themselves as targets to the pain that struck them.<br><br><em>Her very first beating,</em> the older woman thought, <em>she might one day make a passable painslut yet...</em><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Cow needs to practice following instructions in public, so that we don’t need to go through this every time I give her a simple command in private.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Yeah…. Uhn, yes, yes, Ma’am… Mmmm…Oooh.”</strong> It was difficult to tell whether the slender struggling girl was agreeing to the monologue or stating her approval of her beating but the fact was neither mattered in the least, both would continue for as long as, and only so long as Ms. Sheena wished them to.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“From now on, we will arrive in class ten minutes early each day. Before class begins you will move your chair to the front of the room, and inform the class that you would like them to watch you masturbate.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Uh! Yur! Hm… Ysss… please…”</strong><br><br>Nope, there was no way to know what Lesley wanted that time, it might be a wish for a longer or harder breast beating or it might be an unlikely and previously hidden desire to wank herself off in front of an audience. Neither seemed likely, however. The way to resolve the dichotomy was probably to continue with the slapping <em>and</em> order the self-pleasuring to find out which it was she wanted.<br><br><strong>“M- Ma- Masturbate?”</strong> Lesley’s mind struggled to articulate the unthinkable, <strong>“In fr-uhn! Front of class…? Please, Ma’am… nnn.”</strong><br><br>She nearly said ‘no’ and thought better of it (or rather that fragment of her mind still capable of thinking did). James Tockstowe had written that it was always easier if you never said ‘no’ to Maree Sheena. Lesley didn’t doubt he was right. Her half formed thought therefore ended in a ‘please Ma’am’ which was easily interpretable either way.<br><br>Then the beating ended, Ms. Sheena got off and the bound girl’s chest stung and glowed and deep in her core that wicked tingle was back, being mostly fuelled by a needy spike in each nipple. Lesley lay helpless, breathing fast, her chest a wonderful colour, her fingers wiggling helplessly in their bonds, <strong>“Thank you Ma’am, I’m sorry Ma’am,”</strong> the gratitude was almost pathetic in it’s intensity, but Lesley still had no idea what pain really was, though things were about to take a much more interesting turn.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Lift your knees to your chest, as if I were taking your temperature for your physical”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley responded at once, no matter what the instruction, nor how confusing, she’d grown accustomed already to instant obedience; ‘no’ was unthinkable, even a delayed response, no matter how small was already becoming alien to the young woman. She folded herself in half at once, her knees drawn up to her abused chest, the exposure of her sex in this position not being lost on her.<br><br><em>Oh, please, yes, touch me!</em> Lesley’s request was granted though not in quite the way she anticipated and the prolonged questing pressure of Ms. Sheena’s digits against the sensitive and wholly-virgin pucker of her anus drew an immediate and very cute <strong>“Oh!”</strong> of girlish surprise, more so because Lesley, other than at her ablutions had never touched herself there.<br><br>Lesley’s eyes flew open in shock and sheer alarm that one person could touch another there, she jerked her head up, or tried to, the leather cord causing her to let it drop at once with a dismayed gagging noise.<br><br>She listened in apprehension as her mistress conducted a search for something else. Chains and padlocks, leather cords… what else was hidden in that hateful bedside cabinet?<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Here it is!”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <em>What? Here’s what?</em> Lesley was about to find out, and despite Ms. Sheena’s happy exclamation, the bound exposed girl didn’t think for one second that her mistress had located a long lost and much loved champion conker. No, the subsequent smacking sound that reminded Lesley quite a lot of leather belts across flesh made her blood chill.<br><br>A sharp flash of pain across her bottom made Lesley squeak and wriggle her rear, her throat again being painfully reminded that she couldn’t move nor look up to see what Ms. Sheena held. It wasn’t her hand, she knew that much, but she had no idea what it was. It damn well hurt though.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Now where was I?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> ‘Smack!’ <strong>“Oh!”</strong> ‘Whack!’ <strong>“Ow! Please!”</strong><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Oh yes, the masturbation. After getting the class’s attention you will remove your knickers, and you will make yourself come in front of them.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> A further two or three blows followed and Lesley yelped at each, the pain was sharp and had a spiky edge to it, not the dull soft hot feel of a palm slap on a breast, nor even a slap to her thigh or rear, no, whatever implement her tormentor was using it was hard and covered a large area.<br><br>More blows followed and they began to increase in intensity. It was too much, had Lesley been perhaps bound upright, her arms raised, or bent over a chair back it might have been bearable but the girl was just not used to this, simply not capable of taking it, the weird combination of having her lower limbs free and her throat almost choked proved too much and eventually, after an especially loud and cruel stroke she heaved her bottom reflexively right up, her spine coming almost completely off the bed and her piteous cry of pain showing to the experienced older woman that she was close to breaking. Not that that ever bothered Maree Sheena, breaking the sub into helpless wails of crying and screaming denial was one of the nicer facets of being a domme, but here, with this arrangement of bondage, the danger of choking should Lesley flip right off the bed in pain was very real.<br><br>She got off the bed again and fished around in her box of delights for something else, eventually settling on a long length of soft cotton rope. Tying one end to a D ring on the bed frame midway up the side of the bed and walking the rope across Lesley’s stomach she fed the other end through the opposite D ring and doubling the rope back across the bed tying it off on the first ring.<br><br>It wasn’t the best method of restraint but lacking more subtle equipment it would do. Maree sat back on the bed, put one arm over Lesley’s uplifted and folded back legs and resumed, without further ado, the merciless paddling. Lesley could now do very little except wiggle and cry out and though the stomach rope was crude it did prevent Lesley hurting herself.<br><br>That, it transpired, was Ms. Sheena’s job, along with handing out the remainder of her instructions.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“You will make yourself come and if you do not finish in the ten minutes I give you, I will allow one of your classmates to finish for you. I can’t be bothered to remember who your professors are, but if any of your classes are taught by a reasonably attractive woman, I think they would be delighted to help finish your task for you.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> The instructions were punctuated with a rain of blows increasing in pace and weight until the poor victim was crying out aloud with each blow, helplessly jerking even against her throat cord and gurgling and coughing pathetically.<br><br>Ms. Sheena concluded with a final heavy SMACK! And Lesley screeched in agony, her legs jerking in the stronger dommes grasp.<br><br>Silence followed.. a silence punctuated by sniffles and moans and sounds that we very close indeed to weeping.<br><br><em>I’m not going to cry, I’m not…!</em><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Hmm, what do you think, should we go to the gym before class tomorrow? Goodness knows cow needs the exercise, and I think she would enjoy half an hour on one of the rowing machines.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Ma’am! Ma’am, I’m s-sorry!”</strong> The tone of voice was truly repentant, <strong>“I am, I tried to please you in b- buh -bed, I did try, I’m sorry I didn’t. I want to try a-again… Please let me. And if… and if you want me t-to do those things, I’ll try to as well. If it pleases you, I’ll d- duh -do it.”</strong><br><br>At last it seemed to Lesley that Ms. Sheena had heard her pleas as she was finally untied. Whimpering and moaning the girl curled up on the bed on her side, one hand rubbing her throat across which there was a red line and the other her burning rear, which was entirely red. <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Bring a chair over here and sit your ass down in front of the mirror.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Groaning with pain Lesley struggled to comply, after a minute or so she seated herself uncertainly at the foot of the bed and faced the door to the room, in front of which one of the large mirrored wardrobe doors had been positioned. The whimpering, shaking sub looked up uncertainly at her reflection.<br><br>Ms. Sheena stood beside her looking with her at her reflection, still nude, feet planted apart, arms folded mockingly.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Get a magazine if you need it, or find something else that excites you. Either way, I just realized that I’ve never actually seen you please yourself, and I’d very much like to get a sneak preview before I show you off to an entire room.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“M- Muh- Ma’am? M- M- Mast…? Now? Uh, no, don’t hit me! I’ll… I’ll try, I will… uhm…”</strong><br><br>Lesley found she didn’t need a magazine, all she needed to excite her was stood right beside her. She sat for a few moments and did nothing except gather her wits about her and bring her breathing under control.<br><br>After a minute she looked at Ms. Sheena, via her reflection, <strong>“Please Ma’am, if you would unfold your arms.”</strong><br><br>Seeming to be bored and to not care either way, the domme dropped her arms, placing her weight on one leg and a hand on the raised hip, turning a little at an angle which showed off her curves better, she rested the other on Lesley’s shoulder, stroking it gently.<br><br><strong><em>“Get on with it.”</em></strong><br><br>Breathing heavily, Lesley shut her eyes and thought a moment, her train of feelings being broken by a sharp slap, <strong><em>“Keep your eyes open, I want to watch them,”</em></strong> came the instruction, low and gentle yet all the more menacing for it. This additional pressure just set Lesley back to the beginning…<br><br>For a minute or so she merely sat, sliding her hands over her thighs and stomach, then, more adventurously, up onto her chest where she began to caress and then squeeze her own curves, squashing her breasts and rubbing and pinching her nipples alternately. All the time she kept her eyes fixed on the woman stood beside her. It wasn’t so much the naked form that excited her, although it did, it was the person, she realised that the presence of Ms. Sheena was a sexual focus for her, everything she did - and did to her – represented something she wanted, some release, some gateway out of her ordered boring life into a new place, a destination of joy, freedom, pleasure and submission. The mere thought of Ma’am was erotic, intoxicating, arousing. The added bonus on top of her simple presence and commanding personality was that she was so physically different to Lesley; bigger, stronger, heavier, curvier, and she smelled so wonderful. Lesley’s eyelids flickered but she consciously kept her eyes open, she could feel her breath coming in stronger gasps.<br><br>While one hand continued to roam slowly between one breast and the other, her right hand descended down her flat stomach to the junction of her thighs which she shifted apart.<br><br>More time passed… Lesley continued to knead her breasts. Maree noted with interest that the girl from time to time lifted that hand to her throat and neck, squeezing and pinching, mirroring what Maree herself so liked to do. Did Lesley like that anyway or did she just like it because Maree liked it? Was she doing it because her mistress did it to her?<br><br>Then the slimmer girl parted her legs. She lifted one and dropped the knee over the arm of the chair, spreading herself. Her lower hand went to work, one or two fingers dipping down between her folds, from time to time pushing in and at other times pulling up to caress her clitoris, pulling the hood tautly up with two fingers, one either side, and tapping it with the central one.<br><br>Lesley put her head back and whimpered, Ms. Sheena could just glimpse a coating of glistening fluid on the girl’s busy digits.<br><br>It went on… it went on a long time…<br><br>Eventually the hand caressing her neck and breasts descended and went to work with it’s companion, one forming a pair of hooked fingers that darted in and out, the second concentrating just on the small shiny nub of sensitive nerve endings and flickering over it, tapping and rubbing, from time to time the wetter lower fingers scooped up over the sweet red berry, coating it with a fresh supply of lubricant.<br><br>The submissive was now clearly and loudly moaning, the sound making even Ms. Sheena tingle with an unnecessary heat.<br><br>More time… more noise…. busy fingers…<br><br>The young woman shifted her other thigh to the opposite arm of the chair, and slid her bottom forwards to gain more entry, spreading herself obscenely and beginning to work with something approaching a frenzy of concentration, her head now thrown back, no longer making any attempt to watch the mirror but instead through hooded lids she looked up at the gorgeous woman stood beside her, and for whom she discovered she truly lusted.<br><br>The sound of her laboured breaths and moans was accompanied by something more primal, a light repetitive squelching sound…<br><br>With a loud whimper of frustration Lesley moaned at last, <strong>“I can’t. I can’t do it! Not on my own! I need… oh, God, I can’t… help me… p-please help… I need you, Ma’am, kiss me!”</strong><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>19-07-2008, 01:52:50</strong>
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				Far from being upset the hostile woman seems almost please by the moaned admission, leaning forward to harshly whisper into Lesley’s ear. “Damn right you need me,” she mutters, reaching down past the girl’s thin shoulders to sharply pinch a much-abused nipple. She gives the captured flesh a sharp twist as she leans forward and plants a harsh kiss over the smaller girl’s mouth, maintaining the contact for several seconds before she abruptly bites Lesley’s lower lip and pulls away. “I hope that did the trick,” she murmurs, her voice suddenly soft and seductive as she continues “Because I think that you need me so much that you aren’t going to come anymore unless given permission. Every time you come without being ordered, you will be punished.”<br><br>With that she stands and paces back toward her bed, climbing atop it and stretching out on the large surface as she boredly tells Lesley “Go chain your wrists to the bed, as usual.” Having apparently taken care of everything she lays back, apparently going to sleep without bothering to ensure Lesley’s compliance with her commands.<br><br>Regardless of the girl’s obedience Maree leaves her alone until morning, the abusive woman rising early and leaning over the bed to rudely slap Lesley awake, regardless of whether or not her roommate is actually asleep. “Cow is awake?” she asks curiously, her form splayed clumsily over the edge of the bed as she gives Lesley another halfhearted swat before repeating “Cow is awake” and moving to unlock the chains, harshly dragging the slight girl to her feet and dragging her to the mirror again. “Does cow like what I’ve done to her skin?” she wonders mildly, handing Lesley a small hand-mirror in case she wishes to inspect the state of her bum.<br><br>Regardless of the woman’s reaction Maree indulges herself with the small girl’s body, leaning against Lesley’s back and tenderly passing both hands across her recently-abused breasts. “I should really be nicer to these,” she muses, giving the girl an unpleasantly firm squeeze before she draws back, “I think they look better when they’re pale.” Glancing curiously at the target of her inspection she draws her hands back, dusting them off as she inquires “Where do you prefer being beaten, anyway?”<br><br>Before the girl can get off much of a reply Maree walks back toward her cabinet, again rummaging around for a brief moment before she lets off a pleased exclamation and, quickly concealing whatever she found, turns to recover her clothes from the prior evening. “I bought you a bikini,” she informs Lesley idly, “And I think you’re going to get your exercise in the pool this morning, so go get it and pick which half you’d like to wear to the pool.”<br><br>Apparently more impatient than usual, Maree only allows the slighter girl a few moments to locate the garment before she turns and moves to the door, calling Lesley to follow her to the indoor pool. “It takes a couple of minutes to get there,” she comments, “And when we arrive I’m going to ask you to describe the two most humiliating punishments you can think of. I suggest you consider what you’re going to tell me.”<br><br>Her thorough familiarity with the school grounds fail to make the brief walk noticeable in any way to the girl, but Maree’s sadistic smirk quickly re-asserts itself once she’s brought Lesley into the building. “A lot of people like to practice this early in the morning,” she offers as explanation for the large number of students swimming or stretching in the immediate area, “So I thought this would be a nice place for a warmup.”<br><br>Having said that she unflinchingly produces the object she took from her cabinet, a mid-sized hard plastic dildo whose makers spent an abnormal amount of time ensuring that the object bore a striking resemblance to the real thing. “Aren’t these things great?” she wonders aloud, gesturing with the flesh-colored toy as she considers “They must’ve made a cast of a real one, to get this much detail. They even have some of the veins engraved on the surface!”<br><br>Her fascination fades as quickly as it began, however, and Maree’s observations only occupy her for several seconds. Having finished her rant on sex toys she presses the dildo on Lesley, bluntly instructing her “Lay down on the tiles here and choke yourself. Once I am satisfied at your performance, you will find a student in here of your choice, ask that she come over here, tell her, in as much detail as you would tell me, about the punishments you have come up with, and then beg her to inflict them on you while I watch.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>21-07-2008, 15:44:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Damn right you need me.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Yes.”</strong> That one small word was the final admission, to Ms. Sheena and to Lesley herself. The girl finally understood, she needed this, without this in her life she was incomplete. As Maree bent down and roughly pinched and twisted a nipple Lesley jerked, jerked in pain, cried out and gurgled as the taller woman’s mouth crushed down aggressively on hers.<br><br><em>Our first kiss! She kissed me! Kisses so well, so….! Uh! Oh… <span class="bbc_u">YES!</span></em> With a spark of pain through her nipple and a raw hot gushing fire in her belly Lesley jerked and jerked in her chair, her rear stung and irritated her but she didn’t care, all she cared about was the wonderful pleasure at her groin and more than that, the fact that when she’d begged Ma’am to help her come, Ma’am had said ‘yes’, Ma’am had fulfilled her request, Ma’am had done what Lesley needed to be done, and it was that thought, a twisted and misunderstood appraisal of their relationship as it was that turned into the final spark that sent Lesley squealing over the cliff edge. Not the kiss, not the burning caress of her breast, but that simple idea that when she begged for her, Ma’am had answered with a ‘yes’.<br><br>Lesley threw her head back, her neck as taut and exposed as if bent back over a bed edge and half throttled. She didn’t make much noise as she came, she wasn’t a squealer, but she jerked like crazy, her hips, thighs and shoulders vibrated in a series of powerful spasms and a deep rich blush spread over her face and down onto her breasts where it was lost in the already reddened skin.<br><br>Finally it was over and the black-haired girls head sank down onto her heaving chest and her fingers became still, the pair embedded deep within herself were drawn out, glistening. The blush remained however, deep not from her excitement but from shame, even though she wanted to come for her mistress, the act of coming, especially on her own fingers was shameful.<br><br>A voice broke into her shamed darkness.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I think that you need me so much that you aren’t going to come anymore unless given permission. Every time you come without being ordered, you will be punished.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Yes, Ma’am, I understand, Ma’am.”</strong> Already, obedience, so soon. It had taken only ten days, for obedience to begin.<br><br>Maree got into bed.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Go chain your wrists to the bed, as usual.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <em>I don’t sleep with you? You don’t want me?</em> Then Lesley, her minded clouded by her recent pleasuring, recalled that she’d failed to please her mistress. So, resigned to another night on the floor and glancing at the already apparently unconscious figure that she craved to cuddle up to and hug, she padded to the cabinet, retrieved the length of chain and bound one end round her own wrists. She paused a moment then looped it a little tighter than Ms. Sheena usually did, clicking the padlock through a link before she could change her mind. Then squatting down by the foot of the bed she locked the other end, looped over to a ring in the bed frame, clicking the second padlock closed.<br><br>She also made this much shorter than Ms. Sheena usually did. If, in the night she was uncomfortable she could not even now roll over and lie on the rug behind her. Satisfied at her own self-inflicted suffering she lay on her side, knees drawn up the feeling of the cold clammy moisture at the junction of her thighs and the scent on her fingers reminding her not of victory but of defeat.<br><br>Sleep was a long time coming.<br><br>* * * * * * * * * * *<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Cow is awake?”<br><br>“Cow is awake.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Uhn.”</strong> Cow was. At least she was now she’d been slapped.<br><br>She was unbound and dragged upright and led to the mirror.<br><br>It was morning, she hadn’t slept much. She ached everywhere.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Does cow like what I’ve done to her skin?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley managed a small smile at the gentleness of the enquiry. <strong>“Yes, Ma’am,”</strong> came the equally timid reply, directed down at the carpet. Lesley deferred the hand mirror but turned her back on the wardrobe mirror and inspected herself, twisting to look over her shoulder. Her rear was blotchy, parts of it white again, parts still discoloured a pinkish hue and in several places greenish bruises showed.<br><br>She had deserved them. Therefore they were pretty. She was proud of the marks. <strong>“Thank you, Ma’am,”</strong> she said unnecessarily, though still grateful.<br><br>Turning to face the mirror again and lowering her hands she regarded her front, and beside her she stole a shy glance at the taller buxom girl, her eyes drawn inexorably to the luscious curves. Maree leaned in close against her, Lesley melted a little as the taller woman’s chest pressed against her back, the younger girl leaned back and dropped her arms away as her mistress reached around and tenderly cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples. Lesley closed her eyes.<br><br><em>So easily, so easily she sends me, takes me away to such lovely places…</em> Her romantic thoughts were interrupted by a sudden crushing of her soft places the white finger marks overlying the abused markings from last night.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Where do you prefer being beaten, anyway?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“Where Ma’am chooses to is the best. Any place Ma’am thinks fit to beat me is enough.”</strong> The reply came out instantly and had a ring of pathetic honesty about it.<br><br>Then Ms. Sheena broke away and went to her cabinet of delights again, rummaging for some new toy or implement of torture. Lesley watched her but did not see what she retrieved. The submissive woman decided she would love to open that cabinet and look in, yet part of her dreaded to as well. That thought was a mirror of her current life, she wanted to embrace this new servitude, yet to do so, to accept it and dive in, to look at it plainly filled her with fear also.<br><br>As Ms. Sheena got dressed she spoke again,<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“I bought you a bikini. And I think you’re going to get your exercise in the pool this morning, so go get it and pick which half you’d like to wear to the pool.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley went to her bureau and found the black swimsuit in her knicker drawer. Without hesitation she drew on the tiny bottoms quickly tying the string sides, if this was to be her only covering, bare breasts were preferable to an exposed sex. She had not had time to even wash this morning and she knew she was not fresh. That bothered her but there was no time to discuss the issue. Seconds later she found herself embarrassed and walking in her customary position a metre and a half behind her owner. She had been displayed around the school in her revealing maids outfit all week and before that in bra and panties but this… this was a whole new order of awkwardness. If she chose a swimsuit at home it would be a one-piece with sensibly low cut legs. This tiny item, just two small triangles of lycra and two tie strings, even if she’d worn the top as well, was far, far more revealing than anything she’d have chosen for herself a month ago. She walked with eyes cast down, not looking at those they passed in the corridors, though she felt their looks on her skin. They reached the end of the hallway and descended the spiral stair. At first Lesley held her hands in front of herself fretfully but had you been an observer walking behind this peculiarly mismatched couple, after a short while you would have seen the near-naked slim girl, after a while, quietly put her hands behind her and rest them, wrists crossed over, palms open on the upper curve of her bottom.<br><br>Ms. Sheena strode quickly, Lesley had to scurry at one or two points to keep up, her small unsupported breasts bouncing prettily.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“When we arrive I’m going to ask you to describe the two most humiliating punishments you can think of. I suggest you consider what you’re going to tell me.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> That was not difficult, Lesley knew which two at once. But should she say those two or pick two others? It was the scary game of double bluff again, if she picked them would Ms. Sheena inflict them on her, which would be dreadful, but if she picked lesser ones would her domme see through her lies and punish her in different, more terrible ways? Lesley thought hard.<br><br>The pool was located in a modern complex with the gym at the north end of the college. It was reached from Hartley by descending to the ground floor at the north end of the west range and then proceeding north along a colonnade that ran alongside the west wall of the main hall. At a certain point the colonnade ended and the pathway continued out in the open air for some two hundred metres past the professors lodgings to the pool. The late summer day was cool at this early hour and there was a light breeze. Lesley shivered in the colder air and her body reacted in the expected way. Two lady professors, no doubt on their way to breakfast paused at the side of the path to let Ms. Sheena pass. Lesley felt their intrusive gazes slide over her bouncing stiff-peaked chest as she trotted along behind her mistress.&nbsp; <br><br>They reached the pool and passed through the admin area of office, stores, changing rooms and showers into the pool itself, a big warm airy room with high glass windows, raised bench seating and two diving boards. Lesley was at least a good swimmer. A number of students were already swimming, others were in the bleachers watching while more were warming up in gym area adjacent to where they had come in. Glancing around Lesley saw at once that for both males and females, swimming costumes seemed to be optional. There were two professors present, one male and one female in tracksuits but they stood to one side chatting and made no comment on the various things going on in the room. <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“A lot of people like to practice this early in the morning, so I thought this would be a nice place for a warm-up.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley lifted her gaze and looked around. There might be thirty students in the place, about half swimming, half exercising. Several were clearly dom-sub pairs. Not wanting to see what they were doing she looked away.<br><br>Her train of thought was broken by a (to her) large pink silicon dildo being held up in front of her face by a grinning Ms. Sheena. Lesley’s eyes bugged out.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Aren’t these things great? They must’ve made a cast of a real one, to get this much detail. They even have some of the veins engraved on the surface!”<br><br>“Lay down on the tiles here and choke yourself. Once I am satisfied at your performance, you will find a student in here of your choice, ask that she come over here, tell her, in as much detail as you would tell me, about the punishments you have come up with, and then beg her to inflict them on you while I watch.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley stared at her wide eyed. <em>Choke? On that? In my mouth?</em> She’d learned that disobedience was punished, and even delay in obeying was punished too. With a shaking hand she took the object, it was firm but she could press her fingers into it a little and it flexed slightly along it’s length, it wasn’t fully rigid. But to her it was big, at least as big as a big banana.<br><br>Trying to shut out of her mind the second part of her mistress’ order <em>that’s not what I thought you meant!</em> Lesley squatted and lay on her back on an exercise mat. She lifted the thing in both hands and stared at the business end, her mouth dry with fear. She wasn’t innocent, even though her body was innocent of penetration, she knew of these things and of videos where women sucked men, but she had no idea what it was like. She put the object to her lips and some primal reaction made her dart out her tongue to lick it. Instinct had made her place it the right way up too… all these would be little signs to Maree of her knowledge of the world, though such thoughts were a million miles from her right now. She opened her mouth… and laying her tongue flat on it’s underside <em>um, neutral taste, a little rubbery…urgh…</em> she slid it in.<br><br>It was easy at first, two or three inches no problem, then she felt it curve down the very base of her tongue and she stopped, letting it rest there a moment, the urge to bite on it was strong, she willed her jaws apart. She pushed a little more and felt it bump against the roof of her mouth at the very back. She felt stinging tears form in her eyes and a tight hot sensation back there. She tried to relax and accept the object. She waited, her breathing coming raspingly through her mouth and nose… Then she felt something new and Ms. Sheen would have seen it, Lelsey became aroused, that familiar hot tickling at her core and in her nipples, despite a few people wandering past and some stopping to watch (it was Ms. Sheena and her S: of course it would be a show worth watching), Lesley felt excitement bloom in her belly. Trying to see how she could get the object deeper she rolled a little onto one hip and shoulder, making sure it was towards the person who, even though she was not touching her was still the one doing the torturing… tilting her head back made it a little easier and Lesley eased the object back a bit more. Something like four inches was now past her lips and tears formed in her eyes. The sensation of it touching her throat made her cough. She eased it out a little and tried to slow her breathing. It was the sensation of having something so far back you couldn’t bite off that was so alarming. It might only be as big as a big banana but fruit you bit; fruit you took in, in no more than inch long bites… this was, at four inches of penetration, nothing like anything she’d experienced before. She pushed again, quite hard another half inch and gagged and coughed, jerking involuntarily she pulled it out, coughing, a long string of thick saliva hanging off it. She took deep breaths and put it back. By now a fair sized crowd had gathered, a dozen people. Comments were made.<br><br><strong><em>“Her first time?”<br><br>“Looks like it.”<br><br>“It’s tiny though, may as well gobble a pencil!”<br><br>“She’s trying though, bless her.”<br><br>“Nice tits.”<br><br>“Hm.”<br><br>“She’s turned on, look at her nips.”<br><br>“Aw, bless, look! Poor little bitch choked!”<br><br>“Hahaha!”</em></strong><br><br>With laughter circling her, and her eyes scalding with tears and coughing, the prone girl pushed again, and again she coughed. She had wanted to get the whole object in but at about five inches it was impossible. Now knowing what a gag reflex was, each time she pushed towards that point her mind told her what the reaction would be so she began to feel it sooner, her skill at relaxing her mind and thus relaxing her body’s reaction was lacking. She pushed again, harder so wanting to please Ma’am, to do her best, a great fit of coughing wracked her frame and she sat up, spitting out saliva. Five to five and a half inches but that wasn’t much use since she was unable at that depth to keep it in. Keeping it in was what counted, as she knew from the videos. How did those girls do it, their noses buried hard up against men’s stomachs, seven inches of something even wider than this down their throats for ten and twenty seconds…? Or having something that big rammed in and out hard for two or three minutes, as though it was their sex? She couldn’t imagine it.<br><br>She sat there and lay the object aside. Her belly burned.<br><br><strong>“That is all I can do Ma’am, but please may I keep it? I want to do it again for you and learn.”</strong><br><br>She sat with downcast eyes and then breathing in deep to keep herself calm realised she had to do the next task. This thing had been weighing on her mind – it was going to be impossible for her, but the act of choosing it when she hadn’t understood the context, didn’t that make her more submissive yet? Surely she knew this might happen. So that, proving herself submissive in choosing it knowing it disgusted her and that she might fail in public (to be honest when Ms. Sheena had suggested humiliating things it had not entered her head that they would be done in any situation other than privately for Ms. Sheena. But of course, Lesley thought, how can it be humiliating in private? It has to be done publicly, that’s the point of humiliation). So not only was she submissive in choosing it; she was choosing to fail… and given the certain punishment to follow, that made her both more deeply committed now to this life, and, she confessed, more excited.<br><br>And that was Lesley’s discovery for today. She’d been on a steep learning curve since that conversation with James Tockstowe and had made many powerful personal discoveries in the last week and a half or so. Today she discovered that being submissive and forcing yourself to do things you hated was actually <em>good</em>, the thought of what she was to do now made her excited. That was masochism, fearing the thought of doing certain acts but at the same time wanting them because the fear itself was arousing, the fear of failure and further punishment was arousing. For the masochist it was a lose-lose situation. The act was humiliating, which she secretly wanted. Humiliation excited her, yet if it was so bad she failed, failure would be punished. And she confessed quietly to herself that punishment exited her, especially if Ma’am administered it, or she administered it upon herself at her instruction.<br><br>Between her legs she glowed with wanting. She probably surprised Ms. Sheena now and some of the onlookers by standing up and lifting her gaze. Her small thin uncertain voice cut through the general hubbub around the big room, so that even people exercising further away turned to look at the group gathered around the slim pretty almost naked girl.<br><br><strong>“I… I want one of you to help me. I- I’ve been told to do something. Uh, and I’ve been told to ask one of you to do it to me. I need to…m-“</strong> She broke off and swallowed. It was that word again. <strong>“No, I mean I <em>want</em> to m- to masturbate,”</strong> she got that horrid word out somehow. She looked up around the gathered faces. A hard faced brunette woman in a one piece yellow swimsuit came into view. Her long hair was up in clips with small trails of it hanging down at her temples. She was tall, an inch or two taller than Maree, though slimmer. There was something in her brown eyes that made Lesley choose her. Cruelty.<br><br><strong>“Please? Would you masturbate me? Until I come?”</strong> Saying the words was shocking, dirty, Lesley had another wave of pleasure course through her.<br><br><strong><em>“Sure bitch. Strip.”</em></strong> The brunette looked at Maree, asking with her eyes to make sure this was fine. Lesley’s domme nodded once though something in that look seemed to make the brunette draw back. There were limits here, she needed to observe them. Putting a foot wrong with Maree Sheena’s property was the same as putting a foot wrong with the woman herself. That was why a number of dormitory dommes enjoyed these games, a chance to play with Ms. Sheena’s toys meant a chance to be played with by their owner and that was always an experience.<br><br>Good or bad, it was impossible to tell, but always an experience.<br><br>Lesley hooked her fingers in her bikini bottoms and hauled them down, kicking them off. The small string of clear moisture that connected her groin to the cloth as it came away was carefully noted by everyone around her.<br><br><strong><em>“Let’s do this properly. Now me.”</em></strong> Lesley went forwards and pulled the shoulder straps of the swimsuit down and dragged the garment off her. The brunette casually held a hand up to cup and squeeze one of Lesley’s breasts as she undressed her, she used her as a clothes horse by leaning her hand on her shoulder as she lifted one leg, then the other and kicked away the costume. Lesley stared, the woman was in good shape, slender with wide hips. Her gaze was drawn straight to her nipples which were thick and dark and pierced by rings.<br><br><strong><em>“My name’s Evelyn Cottrell, though you can just call me Sir.”</em><br><br>“Yes, Sir.”<br><br><em>“Now I’m not going to do this cold, that’s your job, so warm me up, bitch. Any way you like.”</em></strong><br><br>Lesley began to caress the other woman, putting her hands on her flanks and sliding them up her sides to her breasts, cupping, lifting, caressing. She skated her fingertips across Evelyn’s nipples, gently pinching and rolling them, enjoying the thrill of feeling them stiffen, though the woman showed no sign in her face. Fascinated she gripped the rings and flipped them up and down a few times and pulled on them a little, twisting to see what effect that had. Evelyn’s eyelashes flickered.<br><br><strong><em>“Finger me. I can’t get a stupid bitch worked up if I’m as dry as a bone.”</em><br><br>“Yes, Sir.”</strong><br><br>Lesley ran a palm down the brunette’s warm smooth ribs and stomach and onto her lower belly. Checking the woman’s eyes for reaction she saw her glance at Ms. Sheena, there was a look of apprehension in her eyes.<br><br><em>She’s as afraid of her as I am.</em> That thought was deeply comforting. She knew if anything went wrong, Ma’am would put a stop to it and Evelyn would suffer. Her heart filled with happiness, having Ms. Sheena as her domme wasn’t all bad, in fact there was a lot of good in being the property of one of the most powerful personalities in school. It was like having a guardian angel watching over her all the time. Or rather, a guardian demon. Smiling and relaxing more she ran her fingers onto the brunette's smoothly shaven sex. Evelyn parted her legs, planting her feet eighteen inches apart and put hands on hips.<br><br>Lesley touched her, her hairless sex was fascinating and looked very pretty. She investigated the folds and quested in, dipping and sliding, applying pressure. Her other hand she pressed flat to the woman’s belly and pressed, pulling up a little and exposing the secret nub which she brought her working hand up and over a few times. She heard Evelyn’s breathing quicken and grow urgent and right before her face her pierced nipples stiffened further.<br><br><em>I can do it! I can arouse another woman!</em> Lesley was happy, she wanted nothing more now than to do this to Ma’am, to pleasure her, it was her main short term aim, to give Ms. Sheena pleasure, see her eyes close and head roll back due to her touch.<br><br>Her finger dipped in and gathering hot slickness spread it up and over the woman’s clitoris, Evelyn’s hips jerking a little at this touch.<br><br><strong><em>“Enough. Now get up there.”</em></strong><br><br>‘There’ was a wooden vaulting horse, tall and with a padded bench eighteen inches wide.<br><br><strong><em>“Straddle one end of it facing the end. And fucking hurry up!”</em></strong><br><br>Lesley vaulted up and swung around facing the edge, she’d chosen the end facing Ms. Sheena so her domme would not have the inconvenience of walking around to keep her in view. Evelyn vaulted up on the other end and bounced herself along until she sat tight up behind Lesley, wiggled in close.<br><br><strong><em>“Right on the edge, get that hot little cunt hanging over so I can get at it.”</em><br><br>“Yes, Sir.”<br><br><em>“Now, arms behind me, reach round and grip your hands together. And <span class="bbc_u">do not</span> let go.”</em></strong><br><br>Lesley did as she was told, all the time looking down at the person who was really doing this. Evelyn was irrelevant, Lesley was being used by Ms. Sheena, that was the truth of it. She had a crazy urge to smile at her roommate, but decided against it.<br><br>Evelyn wrapped her ankles over Lesley’s, drawing them back and trapping them against the sides of the vaulting horse, then it began. The brunette did not worry with details like foreplay, her hands went straight between Lesley’s widespread thighs and dug painfully at her sex, pushing in against the small amount of moisture already there. Lesley whimpered with pain. Evelyn’s fingers were bigger than her own and while last night she had been able to push two of her own slim digits past her hymen, Evelyn hurt her. Lesley whined in discomfort.<br><br><strong><em>“Oh, you don’t like that? Too bad. Evie’s gonna make you come. Her way.”</em></strong> Lesley cried out in pain again as the brunette dug her fingers in deep, stretching her painfully, her other hand skating down to her clitoris, pulling the folds up and grazing over it. Lesley whined and bucked her hips, throwing her head back. Her sensitive little place burned her, the combination of pain and pleasure burned her but the pain at her opening was too much.<br><br><strong>“Please! I’ve never done this before!”<br><br><em>“Oh, really? You’re a virgin? Good. I am going to enjoy this. You!”</em></strong> Evelyn called out to someone, <strong><em>“Pass me that.”</em></strong> A woman picked up the plastic dildo Lesley had been sucking and gave it to Evelyn.<br><br><strong><em>“Now bitch you <span class="bbc_u">are</span> going to come. Madam Sheena wants it and really, deep down inside I know you want it too. You’re going to lose your cherry one day soon so it might as well be now while your D can relax and enjoy seeing it happen. Now you can suck on this and make it wet like I saw you doing a minute ago you slut, or I can stick it in you dry, it’s all the same to me.”</em><br><br>“Uh, ummm, please.”</strong> Knowing it was pointless to resist, because if Evelyn didn’t hurt her Ms. Sheena would, and knowing a wet penetration was infinitely better than having herself used dry, Lesley whimpered and opened her mouth. The dildo was thrust in, deep and the slim girl gagged, coughing. Evelyn rammed it in hard making Lesley choke then she withdrew it, the revolting object coated with spit. Wasting no time and holding Lesley’s ankles back tight, the brunette domme pressed the plastic phallus against Lesley’s opening, wiggling it until she found the right place and then thrust hard.<br><br>Lesley screamed in pain and put her head back, howling at the ceiling, bright stabbing darts of pain shot through her. Her head fell forward and she gasped and shuddered as the dildo was pushed home. Her eyes popped wide open in shock and surprise at the feeling and she managed to keep her hands linked behind her tormentor’s back. Groaning and trying to overcome the hurt she convulsed against Evelyn as the dildo was drawn out then thrust in again, out again and in, again, again. Lesley groaned anew and groaned and gasped at each thrust. With her other hand Evelyn exposed and rubbed the smaller girls nub, teasing her mercilessly.<br><br><strong>“Oh, oh! Uh, ooh, umm… uhr...”</strong> Evelyn settled down into a comfortable pace of ramming the dildo in hard and drawing it out slow. The crowd gathered around to watch the spectacle and after a few minutes Lesley put the pain and shame behind her and began to respond. It was inevitable. Being here in front of Maree made it inevitable. Lesley lifted her head and looked at the person she realised she wanted. She wanted to make love to Ms. Sheena, she wanted to do anything to please her, even suffer for her, if it made her happy. As her body jerked against the brunette’s hands and her panting breath grew more ragged and uncontrolled she found herself becoming lost in Maree’s face and eyes. Lesley put aside the thoughts of who was doing this to her and fixed on the red-head.<br><br>Five minutes went by, ten, and soon Lesley was gasping and moaning and crying out, her crotch sticky with her emissions and mingled blood. She felt her peak approaching, she grasped out in her mind and reached for it, needing it, needing to spend where Ma’am could see her.<br><br><em>Ma’am! I need her permission! I can’t come with out it!</em><br><br>She looked up, <strong>“Please Ma’am, please may I have your permission… uhm… please… to reach orgasm…?”</strong>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>21-07-2008, 16:34:22</strong>
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				Maree's usual one-sided commentary has been strangely absent from this particular spectacle, and anyone paying attention to her would notice that while Lesley and Evelyn had made their introductions, Maree had quickly and efficiently pulled a short, brown-haired woman from the crowd, apparently having selected the crowd member who bore closest resemblance to Lesley. She leans forward forward to roughly kiss the woman’s lips, holding the intimate gesture for an abnormally long period before she pulls away and harshly slaps her cheek. “Don’t get in the way of my show, cunt,” she murmurs huskily, settling herself on a nearby folding chair and gesturing for the woman to sit on her lap.<br><br>As Evelyn’s show begins to pick up steam Maree’s brown-haired acquisition finds herself the (probably) unwitting recipient of the domme’s intimate attention, the curvaceous redhead gleefully rubbing her hands down the pale woman’s sides and up her torso, occasionally leaning forward in order to passionately kiss the girl. With the exception of the initial slap the entire performance seems to be choreographed to taunt Lesley during her punishment, demonstrating a storybook romance of kisses and light caresses the like of which the smaller girl has probably yet to experience herself.<br><br>Maree is not nearly as focused on her new acquisition as their performance might lead a person to believe, however, and in spite of their foreplay her attention stays focused on the pale S that she has put on display for the room, the domme looking up and shooting Lesley a dispassionately critical look as she asks for permission. “Of course you don’t have my permission, you stupid whore,” she replies, offhandedly reaching down and playfully tugging her own companion’s hands up to caress her chest. She lets out a playful moan as the smaller woman makes contact with her curves, closing her eyes and leaning insistently into the girl’s hands. She remains in that state for several long, heart-rending moments, her breathing reduced to panting as she subtly twists and pushes herself into the other woman’s hands, urging the attention on.<br><br>After a torturous interval she opens her eyes and glances toward Lesley again, clarifying “Your new friend seems to be having such fun with you, I would look like a downright spiteful bitch if I was to let you finish while she was still enjoying you. I don’t particularly want to look like a spiteful bitch, so you can be a nice cunt and let her touch you until she’s satisfied.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 01:24:08</strong>
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				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Of course you don’t have my permission, you stupid whore.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>“UuhhhHHHUUrrrRR…p- puh-…”</strong><br><br>Lesley let her head sag onto her chest, the fact that her mistress was sat there allowing herself to be pleasured by that other girl when Lesley herself couldn’t or hadn’t been allowed to… of course it made it worse, and Lesley knew full well it was a deliberate attempt to mess with her head.<br><br><em>I so want to do that… let me do that, next time, I promise, I’ll be good…</em><br><br>Shutting her eyes she gritted her teeth.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“Your new friend seems to be having such fun with you, I would look like a downright spiteful bitch if I was to let you finish while she was still enjoying you. I don’t particularly want to look like a spiteful bitch, so you can be a nice cunt and let her touch you until she’s satisfied.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Lesley surprised herself by managing to gurgle out as though drowning: <strong>“Th- Th- Thank youuu-uuu, Ma’am…”</strong><br><br>There was nothing for it, all she could do was try to think of things she hated. She thought of being freezing cold, she thought of missing the train or of eating platefuls of sprouts… of doing cross country runs, not handing in homework or her nasty neighbour Andrew. Anything, anything at all to take herself off the boil. Her arms she squeezed tight around Evelyn and made herself stab her own palm with the nails of the opposite hand.<br><br>But the pleasure-pain at her groin just would not go away, Evelyn was good at what she did and knowing now that her job was to make this girl come buckets as soon as she could, she redoubled her efforts, punching the dildo in and out rapidly and with the fingers of the other hand rubbing frantically at Lesley’s over sensitised clitoris. Lesley put her head back on the other girls shoulder and cried out, issuing almost inhuman cries and gasps so as to not come, her whole body shook, her pretty chest heaved and it seemed like her clit might explode, the pleasure went beyond what she could bear into pain, she was getting sore and she began to try to close her legs but the stronger Evelyn held them open.<br><br><strong><em>“Come for me, come on, I want you too, pretty bitch, you’ve <em>my</em> permission…”</em></strong> she stage whispered in Lesley’s ear.<br><br>Still looking at the roof and gritting her teeth she gave up, <strong> “Ma’am, <em>please, please</em>, let me! Let me finish! I’ll do anything, anything, I’ll beg! I’m begging you! Let me come! Urgh!”</strong>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 01:32:26</strong>
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				The gleeful expression that grips Maree's features as she hears the other woman begging is somewhat worrisome, the room as a whole growing tense as she regards Lesley with a sadistic smirk. "Mmm, you're going to regret saying that later," she murmurs, absently shoving her recently acquired companion off of her lap to get a better view.<br><br>Free from distraction, Maree appears to take her time deciding, the woman's bored gaze sweeping over Lesley and Evelyn's nude bodies as she casually watches the S's desperate struggles. When it seems obvious that Lesley is nearing her limit, however, she acts quickly, the domme slowly standing and approaching the two women to whisper into Lesley's ear "Cow has her handler's permission, so she may have mine."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 02:40:21</strong>
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				<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Cow has her handler's permission, so she may have mine."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> The result was immediate and spectacular as Lesley orgasmed in one huge powerful rush, groaning and gasping, her sweat soaked body twitching and jerking and now even thrusting back and forth a little riding the dildo in her sex to achieve deeper pleasure. Finally after almost a full minute of animal moans and muscular spasms the wretched girl became still, her chest blushed bright red heaving from her exertions, her breath rasping in ragged gusts as she slowly calmed down.<br><br>For her part Evelyn did not stop completely but slowed the pace of her ministrations, sliding the plastic phallus more gently in and out of it's tight sheath gradually slowing it until as Lesley's head once more slumped down, she was sliding it gently in and out just a couple of inches and her fingers tickling elsewhere slowed to a stop but gently held the exposed nub, just applying the gentlest of pressure.<br><br>Lesley raised her face, a weak voice came out, <strong>"Tha- Thank you-ouu, Sir."</strong> Then, her long hair tangled and plastered to her face, a dribble of saliva down her chin, her bare chest still heaving slowly, she looked at Ms. Sheena, <strong>"Thank you, Ma'am, for letting Cow come. Cow is- Cow is grateful... And I.. I have my second humiliation yet, but....uhhh... but I'm sorry it is not much. Please may I remain nude for the rest of the day, Ma'am?"<br><br>"It's not much. I'm sorry."</strong><br><br><em>I think... I think I could fall in love with you...</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 03:09:52</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Maree snickers at the request, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at the saliva and sweat-encrusted girl, noisily tapping her foot on the tilework. Less than a minute passes before she makes her decision, stepping close to Lesley and stage-whispering into her ear, "Cow will remain nude for the rest of the week." she raises her voice as she steps back, the woman going back into her showman's routine as she loudly continues "However, that is not a punishment. Cow enjoys showing herself off, and I wouldn't be a responsible owner if I allowed cow to forget that this morning's exercise is supposed to be a penalty, and not a reward."<br><br>Having said that, she turns and shoots Evelyn an inquisitive glance, her gaze quickly shifting down to unapologetically stare at the woman's nude form. "I have an idea," she informs both women, lowering her voice so that only Lesley and Evelyn may hear her. "I would like to gamble that Cow is so warmed up that she won't be able to properly control herself," she continues in a hushed murmur, "And so I am going to give you exactly two minutes to make her come again." At this she turns to shoot Lesley a significant look, bluntly warning her "This time cow does NOT have my permission. Cow will sit still like a good girl, and no matter what happens, will not come."<br><br>Her sadistic grin is suddenly and chillingly put into context as she turns back to Evelyn, informing her "If you manage to make Cow come against my orders, I will let you take her away for an hour. You will not use her ass or leave any permanent marks, but you may otherwise treat her as your own S during that period. If she manages to withstand your touch, however, not only will she get a reward, but I will personally make your life into a living hell over the next year."<br><br>With that, Maree returns to her seat and watches the two women curiously, arms still crossed as she glances at her watch and casually whispers "Three, two, one, and go."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 10:58:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Lesley’s eyes shot open wide at the injustice of it, but Evelyn knowing that a year at the hands of Maree Sheena was <em>not</em> a prospect she wished to endure, especially since she had her own S, Rose, a deliciously compliant curvaceous blonde to train up, decided at once that no way was she going to be defeated. If for no other reason than she simply hadn’t the time. Her right hand resumed thrusting the dildo at first slowly but within a few thrusts building up to a furious pace and most awful of all her left hand’s fingers returned to teasing Lesley’s already oversensitised clit. Lesley gasped and gurgled in a mixture of pain and joy, she didn’t know which it was; both sensations rushed over her in a hot sudden wave, in some kind of denial she clamped her vaginal muscles but Evelyn was stronger and pushed the plastic penis in hard against the slick tightness, in fact only making things worse for Lesley as the sensation curved up exponentially.<br><br><strong><em>“Keep still my pretty bitch, I do not want a year of the shit you’ll be suffering so you’d better fucking come for me.”<br><br>“Hey you!”</em></strong> She called out to some classmates, <strong><em>“I want you up here behind me. Now! Hold her wrists. And you two. Take a leg each, I need all my strength for this job.”</em></strong><br><br>Three girls hastened to obey and soon Lesley was pinned in place. Everyone in the pool area had now wandered over to enjoy the show. Seeing Maree Sheena play to the crowd was always good fun, providing you didn’t get randomly selected to participate. And having a cute S made to writhe and scream in public was never dull anyway, and this one was worth watching.<br><br>Lesley didn’t stand a chance, still not fully recovered from her first orgasm, her body was floating in the afterglow, her senses heightened and drifting in that state that while most men just convert into slumber, some women can convert from a downward drift back around into a new upward climb. Lesley had played with herself plenty of times but once before sleep or first thing in her morning shower was enough for her, the pleasure and relaxation an orgasm gave her might last her several days or a week depending on what her libido was doing at the time, or where she was in her monthly cycle, but today she made a quite terrible discovery – or a nice one, depending on your viewpoint - her libido was capable of more than one orgasm in rapid succession. Some women can do it, some can’t. Lesley Wingate, it turned out much to her surprise, was a multiple-cummer.<br><br>Having the three girls move to hold her tightly in place was the best thing Evie could have done, she had no idea, but that one move probably saved her a year of purgatory. Like the committed and strong D she was, she got to work, redoubling her efforts and plunging the phallus deeply and hard into her victim while torturing her clitoris with rapid but teasingly gentle strokes. There was no point in abusing that sensitive nerve bundle too hard, that wasn’t the way to get what she wanted. Her other trick was her voice; Lesley lay her head back on her shoulder again, gasping and whimpering so Evie bent her head to her ear and began to spew out a long gentle teasing stream of dirty talk, enhancing exactly, and by complete chance using a line of argument that Lesley had, deep inside admitted to herself was true last night.<br><br><strong><em>“You love this don’t you? Showing yourself off? I know you do, you asked to be nude for your D all day. Secretly your kind always asks for what you really want, hidden down inside you want that. And I know why. Because you want to please her don’t you? You want her to see you nude, don’t you? Your pleasure comes after hers. Of course it does my pretty bitch, we both know that. You’ll suffer repeated agonies if only she enjoys seeing you writhe and hearing your cries. Isn’t that right? Hm… thought so.”<br><br>“So, let her enjoy this. Let her see you come again. She wants you to, then she can punish you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? If you come she’ll punish you. If you don’t, not only do you miss out on another sweet spend, but I’ll be the one Ms. Sheena is punishing, not you. And you wouldn’t want that would you, hm?”<br><br>“So come for me, come. Come now and make it a loud one. Show your D that you can scream, show her how much you love her.”</em></strong><br><br>That last few words hit the final button. Already convinced that most of Evelyn’s logic could not be refuted, Lesley knew that last was true. Ms. Sheena loved to punish her, and Lesley, she knew now, loved to be punished. She also, she had discovered last night and this morning, found that coming was fun. Orgasms were good, she wanted another right now, right this second, not so she could enjoy it, although she would, but so Ma’am could enjoy it.<br><br>The only thing she wanted more in the whole world was to give Ms. Sheena this feeling she was about to fly into. She would love to make her mistress come.<br><br>Pinned helplessly by the three girls, Lesley writhed against their arms, her struggles in bondage reminding her of that hot needy sensation she’d first discovered and enjoyed last night as her throat was so cruelly bent back and exposed. With her body sheened with fresh rivulets of sweat, her thighs, belly and breasts jerking quite uncontrollably and her screams of joy coating the roof of the large pool building Lesley spent again, much more noisily than the first time, her yells of utter joy and shame mingling with her wonder at the discovering of simply how good being made to come while bound felt and knowing that as she jerked and gasped and whimpered, the best person in the world was enjoying both this show and the retribution she would inflict on her in it’s aftermath.<br><br>Lesley slumped down, finished, gasping, her soaked body heaving pathetically.<br><br>The orgasm had arrived after a minute and forty seven seconds, however it had, like the first, lasted almost a minute, so it was touch and go whether it would count.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 11:46:24</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well, that wasn't very exciting" Maree drawls, apparently unimpressed with Evelyn's display, "But at least it got the job done." Having apparently approved of the performance she shifts her attention back to Lesley, rudely pinching the girl's cheek to get her attention. "As for you, cow, you obviously aren't taking the concept of punishment seriously enough. I gave you an order, and you disobeyed it, so that's that."<br><br>The act seems to be something of an afterthought, Maree simply walking through the formal procedure as if to taunt Lesley with her own situation. "Are you so obsessed with your own pleasure," she taunts, her lips hovering inches from Lesley's face as the hot breath of her abuse kisses across the girl's cheeks, "that you forgot whose benefit this was for?" glibly dipping a hand down between her legs she makes a show of rubbing a hand experimentally over the crotch of her swimsuit, retrieving it after a moment and insistently pushing her fingers under Lesley's nostrils. She holds the position for several uncomfortable seconds, waiting for the smaller girl to get the point and giving an annoyed (and rather well-faked) angry snort as Lesley fails to get the point quickly enough for her tastes. "I am bone dry," she hisses, "No thanks to you and your little one-woman peep show." <br><br>As she pointedly lectures her diminutive D Maree retains the uncomfortably close quarters, her musky scent betraying mild arousal despite her cruel words. "All I was looking for," she frowns, "Was for Cow to exert at least a <em>little</em> effort to keep herself from coming. I wasted all night fantasizing about your pale ass writhing uncomfortably, sweat raised on your brow as you tried valiantly to hold back and do what your D commanded. But what did you do?" Oblivious to interruptions and thoroughly enjoying yet another one of her one-woman conversations she plows through any excuse that Lesley cares to offer, blithely continuing "What I got to see, you little bitch, was your skanky cunt splayed for the whole world to see, practically <em>begging</em> for this pierced piece of shit to make you come in front of your classmates."<br><br>Smirking, she reaches down to caress Lesley's cheek before slowly and obviously drawing her hand back, taking careful aim and swinging the digit forward to impact cruelly with her S's cheek. "That," she hisses, "Is for turning a simple lesson in self-control into your own little personal fulfillment session." Eyes lit with mischief she pulls her hand back and lets it swing forward again, this time colliding firmly with the side of Lesley's oft-abusd right breast. "That," she continues, her breath tickling the small woman's nose, "Is for being a rightly disobedient piece of shit who turns the first treat I take her out for into a selfish mess". Her mouth contorts into a thin smile as she pulls her hand back a third time, her eyes darting over Lesley's form dramatically before she quickly darts forward and plants a full, firm kiss against the smaller woman's cheek, hissing into her flesh "And for not even lasting two short minutes without coming, I have something special in mind. You're a fat, stupid, gluttonous little thing, and if you can't remember how to please me, I guess I'm going to have to get something fun out of you myself."<br><br>Curling her lips into a sadistic smirk to conceal her growing excitement she steps into the audience, glancing from girl to girl until she spots a short, slightly doughy brunette whose simpering expression and rather shoddy collar point to a new S. Smirking, she wraps her fingers in the girl's hair and gives her head a sharp tug, bearing her half to the ground and dragging her prone form back to Evelyn and her own sweaty, still-heaving sub. "I wanna come," she tells the girl flatly, "and now that I know that you aren't up to the task, I guess I'm going to have to find another way to get it out of you."<br><br>Shifting her attention for a moment she focuses on the brunette trembling under her hand, towering over the small girl for a moment before dragging her to a nearby bench and plopping herself down with little ceremony, splaying her legs obscenely and steering her captive's head down between her legs. "Little girl is going to lick me until I come," she murmurs, her voice husky as she traces a warning hand over the woman's throat. "If she makes me come too quickly, or takes too long, I'm going to hand her over to Evie and her thugs. Otherwise, I might give she and her mistress a nice 'date' sometime soon. Understood?"<br><br>Judging by the speed with which the other woman plants her mouth between the D"s legs and begins to frantically lick at the crotch of her swimsuit she has already heard the rumors about Ms. Sheena, and even as she begins to service the woman, an attentive observer might note a slight tremble to her arms and a small line of sweat painting her neck and shoulders as she works.<br><br>Sighing happily Ms. Sheena leans into the small tongue, closing her eyes in lazy hedonism for a moment before turning her attention back to Lesley in her dishabille. "Evie has you for as long as it takes me to be satisfied- could be an hour, could be more, sure as shit won't be less than twenty minutes, judging by how incompetent this bitch is. In any case, I don't really care what she does to you: she won't touch the parts I haven't broken in, and won't leave any permanent marks, but otherwise she can have at it- hit you, hurt you, whip you, make you watch old sitcoms, whatever. I just wanna see you crying by the end of this."<br><br>Crossing her arms in a vaguely self-satisfied way she settles back to watch, occasionally reaching down to correct or swat at the girl between her legs.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 11:53:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In her haste to enjoy herself and give her mistress something to enjoy, Lesley had forgotten what would result. In her haze of selfish pleasure she'd quite let go and been dragged in by Evelyn's clever words. She'd been duped. <em>Selfish, I'm so selfish...</em> Of course the brunette would try and get her to peak, all the rewards would be hers, and now... and now Lesley would suffer but not at the hands of the person her heart was rapidly become fixated on.<br><br><strong>"Ma'am... please..."</strong> Then she shut up, she had no idea what she was pleading for anyway and it was already obvious that pleading to Maree Sheena was a waste of time, counterproductive even. She hung her head.<br><br>Hitching in a sob at the way this had turned out <em>even as I was trying to please her,</em> Lesley sat, still obscenely held open waiting to find out what Evelyn and anyone else she decided to involve for the next hour, would do. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Georgina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>22-07-2008, 12:25:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Crazy bitch," Evelyn murmurs, turning to shoot Lesley a bored, almost contemptuous look as she signals her co-conspirators to release the girl. "I don't particularly want to bother with your scrawny ass," she matter-of-factly informs the girl, glancing around the gathered onlookers and curiously asking "Hey, do any of you have some rope handy?"<br><br>As luck would have it Belamward's students were well-prepared to serve as accessories to Evelyn's plans, and several varying types of rope are quickly passed forward, to be tossed at Evie's feet. After inspecting her newfound toys she selects several ropes at random and takes to quickly and efficiently tying Lesley's arms behind her at the wrists and her legs together at the ankles, adding a particularly unkind final touch by impatiently tugging the pale woman into a kneeling position and tying her ankles to her wrists. "How well can you move?" she asks rhetorically, giving Lesley a cruel shove toward the floor to ensure that the rope is sufficient for her intended use.<br><br>No sooner do her knots prove their stability than she adds a final touch, tying a long lead rope to the woman's wrists and anchoring the other end to a handhold located on the edge of the pool.<br><br>Her preperations complete she casually takes hold of the rope lead and drags the relatively immobile Lesley to the pool's edge. "Do you know how to swim?" she inquires, casually motioning for several of the other women to assist her in lifting the bound S and tossing her lightly into the pool.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>25-07-2008, 23:20:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The next twenty minutes changed Lesley’s life. While she had endured all manner of new and powerful and conflicting emotions in the last ten days, had suffered pain and pleasure and shame and the wonders of new discoveries, and might even be teetering on the edge of her first lesbian crush, nothing, none of that was any preparation for what took place in the swimming pool immediately after Ms. Sheena gave Evelyn permission to carry on.<br><br>Lesley should have known by now that Ms. Sheena never made idle threats, if she promised something would happen, then it would happen. Lesley should have known that, yet her naiveté led her to self-delusion; she just did not believe her wonderful mistress really would simply give her to another domme for an hour, leaving her helpless. Lesley in the next few minutes felt so terribly vulnerable. In Ms. Sheena’s clutches she suffered pain and degradation and humiliation every minute of every day and yet… and yet. These sufferings she could bear and was prepared to bear because it was Ms. Sheena who had quickly come to dominate her life – and not in the strictest sense, not in a sexual sense but in the absolute sense; every minute Lesley thought about her wonderful, beautiful mistress, the pain she dealt out she could accept and endure. Lesley was falling into a situation in more ways that one, a strong emotional attachment was forming not only to the woman but to the things she did to the younger girl.<br><br>But now the person she worshipped gave her over to someone else leaving her in the hands of a woman who seemed to just be plain crazy. It did not matter what Evelyn did because Evelyn need only use up Lesley and cast her away in an hours time, there was no aspect of training or planning or any kind of – dare Lesley think this? – <em>consideration.</em><br><br>No, Evelyn merely tortured Lesley for the soul purpose of breaking her and making her fail, collapse and cry. That was her plan. Lesley could not grasp this and the utter waves of fear that tore through her as she endured what happened next changed her life, changed her mind, changed her entire approach to Ms. Sheena.<br><br>Helpless, naked and confused, still overcome with the glowing waves of pleasure from her second orgasm, Lesley meekly stood while Evelyn used cotton ropes to bind her wrists behind her back, then her elbows too, trussing her arms tight, pulling back her shoulders and making her breasts thrust lewdly out. Lesley whimpered at the tight bindings, then pushed down onto her knees, suffered her ankles to be bound too. Finally and fear and confusion beginning to rise up in a red wave, Lesley found herself pushed face down and her ankles and wrists drawn together behind her and bound also so she was quite unable to move except to roll over from side to side.<br><br>Before she was even able to understand the gravity of her predicament Lesley found herself being dragged like a bundle of laundry to the pool edge, two or three girls assisted Evelyn in lifting her up and swung her from side to side, and panic struck.<br><br><strong>“No! No, no, please! Don’t! Don’t do this, do something else, anything, el…!”</strong> she was thrown into the water, it went in her mouth and nose and burned her eyes, she coughed and sank and utter total fear took over. She struggled pathetically and uselessly, writhing underwater and she sank down into fourteen feet of warm chlorinated pool. She struck bottom and weakly turned, her wrists and ankles and neck being the only things that could flex. In her shouted panic she’d not held her breath and her lungs burned in agony. Then the rope was hauled back up. Lesley was only in there maybe thirty seconds but it seemed like hours. She was hauled dripping and coughing back up the side where Evelyn sneered at her and slapped her face.<br><br>The girl said something but Lesley didn’t hear it, complete panic had taken over. Somehow or other she detected on her tormentors faces that she was going to be dropped back in and sucking in deep breaths managed the second time to have enough oxygen in her lungs to survive the second descent and retrieval.<br><br>Gasping she once more broke surface, <strong>“Please! Please stop! I’ll do anything! Anything you ask, please!”<br><br><em>“You’re going back down again bitch, so if you want to do anything just try not to die.”</em></strong><br><br>Lesley sucked in breath trying somehow to prepare for this and then Evelyn laughed cruelly and punched her in the stomach, making her cough and gasp out all her stored air. She was dropped in…<br><br>It went on and on and on… ten minutes, fifteen, twenty. Each dunking was only thirty seconds or a minute but it was the abuse heaped upon her when out of the water that so frightened her. Up and down, each time she was dragged out she was slapped or punched or tickled, towards the end the dildo was skewered back deep into her sex and she was told not to drop it, or she'd be sent back down to retrieve it with her teeth.<br><br>Lesley could not cope. She had no concept of such cruelty, such sadism, such utter disregard for another person. Her fear some time around the fifteenth dunking was so great she peed herself, thereafter descending each time through water polluted with her own waste.<br><br>Finally she was hauled out, coughing, choking and gasping, her mind almost gone.<br><br><strong>“Stop, stop, please stop. Anything, anything, I’ll do… just don’t kill me, please…”</strong><br><br>In her panicked state she saw Ms. Sheena to one side watching and... <em>being pleasured?</em><br><br>That was her job! Lesley should do that! Lesley wanted to do that, ached to do it. She'd do it for hours and more, anything to have this awful time come to an end.<br><br><strong>"Please Ma'am! Please! Make them stop! I'll do as you say, anything you say! ANYTHING! PLEASE!"</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>25-09-2009, 02:49:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Given Maree's flair for the dramatic most Belamward students quickly learn that anything she incites is bound to provide entertainment, albeit at the risk of one getting dragged into the show themself. Many for many of the S ladies and gentlemen, as well as a surprising number of the Ds end up making a memorable experience of their participation, a lucky (or unlucky) few even making a strong enough impression for Ms. Sheena to remember, and perhaps even seek them out at a later date.<br><br>Saddly for the scared young lady perched between Ms. Sheena's legs, her own performance has fallen rather flat. After a few moments spent scrutinizing her new "assistant" Ms. Sheena's attention quickly turns back to her own S, her cheeks flushing pleasanly as she watches Evelyn outright torture Lesley. Her hips seem to shift and jump with each gasp, scream, cry, and whine that emits from the victim, and as the show picks up she begins to warm to her abducted assistant's attention, shifting to place herself more comfortably against the frightened mouth and occasionally reach down to pinch or slap the girl's face. At one point the girl makes the mistake of tending to herself without asking, spreading her knees apart and reaching a leg down to haltingly rub herself, an attempt that Ms. Sheena quickly ends, lazily twisting the girl's wrist away and reaching down to sadistically slap the quickly-moistening patch between her legs, warningly hissing "Next time it'll be a belt" into the girl's ear.<br><br>Every time Lesley comes up for air and finds herself flung under the abuses of Evelyn and her cronies Ms. Sheena's breath catches, the girl occasionally letting off a grunt or a low moan and liberally grinding herself into her captive's tongue. As the abuse escalates Maree's treatment of her assistant grows progressively more sadistic, and when time Evelyn forces the dildo between Lesley's legs Maree gives a downright excited purr, forcefully pushing her captive on her back and resting her weight on the girl's shoulders, insistently riding her mouth as she watches Lesley's treatment grow progressively worse.<br><br>As Lesley begins to weaken to the treatment Maree's breathing picks up speed, the girl's cleavage heaving beneath her swimsuit as she stares fixedly at her S's abuse, the girl trapped between her legs practically forgotten. However fun the abuse is to watch, however, Lesley's reaction is what sells it, and while her mistreatment certainly helped turn her mistress on, her pathetic cries for her life are what push her over the edge: as the thin girl begs her tormentors not to kill her Maree gives a sudden, almost spastic buck and practically smothers the girl beneath her, pressing her hips down insistently against the other girl's tongue as she quietly gasps "Bite it, you fucking bitch, you'd better make it hurt or I'm going to whip you within an inch of your life right here."<br><br>Self-preservation turns a lot of keys, and at the moment a desire to not turn into Mark II Lesley is more than enough motivation for the girl beneath her to get with the program, prompting her to quickly withdraw her probing tongue and laboriously work her hand around to pull the crotch of Ms. Sheena's swimsuit aside, revealing her triangle and sinking her lips down on the damp, musky flesh, laying desperate nip after nip on the sensitive surface.<br><br>Maree herself seems partial to the treatment, bucking liberally against her captive's mouth, her face awash with color as she whimpers quietly, pressing herself into the painful attention. It takes but a moment for the ministrations to have their desired effect, and with a surprisingly plaintive yip Ms. Sheena comes rather noisily, her skin flushed with the attention and her focus fixed solidly on the abused, prone form of her S. Rather than luxuriating in the attention she quickly begins to rise, pausing with surprise in mid-motion as the girl under her, thoroughly terrified, attempts to rise with her, the biting considerably more painful in the hypersensitivity brought on by her post-orgasmic haze. Taken, for a rare moment, by surprise, Ms. Sheena stays still, the sharp nips raising tears at the corners of her eyes. She catches herself before the play extends too long, however, finally tugging her temporary toy's head away and matter-of-factly slapping both cheeks, pleasantly cooing "Bitch did reasonably well- go scamper back to your D, before I think of something else to do with you."<br><br>Positively glowing with satisfaction she takes her time pacing toward Lesley's form, Evelyn having halted the abuse at some point during Maree's rather expressive orgasm. Fixing her lips in their usual smirk she gingerly nudges the prone girl with a foot, finally reaching down to efficiently release the wet ropes and impatiently drag the girl up by her hair. "Did Cow have fun?" she murmurs, reaching down to rudely grope between the girl's legs as if measuring the level of her enjoyment. She brings two fingers to her nostrils, giving them a brief sniff before wrinkling her nose in disgust and holding them in front of Lesley, chiding her "Did you piss yourself or something? I wish you would've told me before I touched you, now I'm going to be walking around with your cooties all day." With a lazy shrug she continues "I guess there's no helping it now- just lick these clean and go find your shit, so we can stop wasting time here."<br><br>Gleefully ignorant of Lesley's recent treatment she wastes no time in parading the girl out, giving her no chance to recover as they make their way back to the dormitory. As they exit the pool she grins and turns to scrutinize Lesley, bidding her "So? Aren't you going to thank me for letting you have such a fun experience?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>25-09-2009, 11:43:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				LESLEY<br><br>When Mistress materialised near me I felt so relieved! She treated me as disdainfully as ever but I didn't care, any treatment she chose to mete out to me was better than what I had just endured. I just hoped Mistress wouldn't allow the dunking to continue.<br><br>When she asked if I had had fun I wasn't sure how to respond. So many of her questions were rhetorical or delivered merely for her own, or her audiences, entertainment that I often didn't know how to answer or even if I <em>should</em> answer. But at other times if I didn't I would be slapped because of it. A part of me came to realise that Mistress slapped me because it gave her pleasure and not necessarily as a punishment for me, but the fact was that she would slap sometimes and not others, on her whim so my answer was - well not quite irrelevant - but giving one could do less harm, because <em>not</em> giving one would more often result in pain.<br><br><strong>"No, Ma'am,"</strong> I said quickly, eyes downcast, the foregoing thought process taking far less time to flow through me than it does to relate it, <strong>"I did not enjoy myself, Ma'am... because you were not punishing me."</strong><br><br>I hoped that was the correct response. Whether it was or not I knew it to be the truth.<br><br>I recoiled in shame when she found out I had been so scared as to reach those levels and licking the mess off her fingers was the least I could do to try and show I had failed.<br><br>All the time as she spoke to me I shuddered and shook with fear at what had happened and could happen again if Mistress chose to make it happen. It was a lesson in obedience I would try never to forget and the desire to please her and please her quickly burned inside me, consuming me and focusing my mind wonderfully.<br><br>She untied me but left me naked and at her curt command I retrieved my things bundling them carefully up but being sure to clasp the bundle in my arms <em>behind</em> my back so that my front was on show for her and available. I didn't want to do anything else wrong today.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"So? Aren't you going to thank me for letting you have such a fun experience?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> As usual, in response to this, I wasn't sure how to answer. It had not been a fun experience, then again it probably had been fun for her which was the point of it. In a way it had been <em>profitable</em> I could not deny it and on that basis I gave my reply, <strong>"Yes, Ma'am, thank you Ma'am. It was horrid, those women were... were..."</strong> <em>not you</em> <strong>"...Uh... I prefer it when you do things to me though, Ma'am."</strong> Maybe I'd said too much, maybe just that was enough to receive another beating. But I didn't care, it would be a beating from <em>her</em>, the one who had taken over my life, broken it and was rebuilding it anew.<br><br>Of course one item Mistress had not made reference too was the silicon penis still inserted deep in my sex. I couldn't mention it myself as I wasn't bidden to and I was too afraid to do or say anything out of line. Gripping it in my body and trying not to allow the intense sensations the large object stirred warmly inside me to distract me too much from the proper object of my lusts, I walked nude a pace behind Ms. Sheena as we returned to Hartley, the morning sun now well risen and warm on my bare skin, the cool breezes and the glances of passing students laying on my bare body still enough to send me crimson with shame but having no alternative but to endure them and attend to my Mistress I did nothing to cover myself, the bra-less movement of my chest and the pointed fingers and lewd comments of those who saw the end of the dildo protruding from me making me suffer in silent shame.<br><br>But I was suffering for Ma'am. So it was good. My body glowed happily as I trailed after her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Awakening of Lesley Wingate (Sophina and Haibane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sophina</strong> on <strong>26-09-2009, 12:51:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Much like military service, life with Maree Sheena might be described to consist of long periods of tedium punctuated by short moments of terror, at least when considered from the average S's point of view. The immediate aftermath of Lesley's experience in the pool was no exception, and once they crossed the threshold into the lavish interior of their dormroom Maree reverted to the same blase, disinterested girl that she had been following Lesley's initial indoctrination. Oh, she still took fiendish, almost juvenile delight in finding eroticism in every act: random slaps, spanks, pinches were still to be expected at the slightest provocation, and Maree was strict in insisting that Lesley remember her place as an ornament: she delighted in requiring the girl to make herself alluring whenever they were together: a raised skirt here, a doffed shirt there, a nude studying session on pure principle alone. Lesley was still required to undress herself before addressing anybody outside their dorm room, revealing her (or rather Maree's) daily choice in underwear on a depressingly frequent basis, and she was still forced to do humiliatingly menial tasks for Maree: untied shoelaces, dropped writing implements, and chairs that weren't simply going to pull themselves out were all-too-frequent companions to Lesley during her days and nights on campus.<br><br>One companion that she found sorely missing, however, was sex. Or foreplay. Or kissing. Or even flirting. Indeed, following their return from the pool, Ms. Sheena proved to be frustratingly unaware of what proper young ladies were supposed to do to and with each other in private. Her willful ignorance continued into the night and carried through to the next morning, where whatever insects might be perching on the wall would find the two ladies partaking in a light breakfast in a small, currently-empty lounge on their floor. Maree showed all the grace and dignity one might expect, having refused to change out of the sweatpants and grimy tank top that she had worn to bed. Indeed, she had simply rolled over in bed, swatted the nude Lesley awake from her perch on the carpet, and pertly informed her that "Breakfast will be in the south lounge in 30 minutes, or your cries will be waking the dormitory in 31 minutes."<br><br>This had not been the first time Maree pulled this particular stunt, although to Lesley's fortune she had never actually brought breakfast late. True to form, the small girl quickly pushed herself up to her knees, spreading her legs to expose herself as Maree liked while she asked "Ma'am, may I please put on my clothes?"<br><br>With a sadistic grin Maree pretended to consider the offer for an uncomfortably long while, her gaze fixed between Lesley's thighs as she ponders. Finally she appears to decide, her lips quirking in a slight smile as she grunts "Sure, I guess so- I don't feel like following you down stairs, and I don't really care about humiliating you if I don't get to see the results."<br><br>Lesley dresses herself with disappointing speed after Maree gives her permission, the girl quietly murmuring "Thank you, ma'am" as she tugs, fastens, and buttons each article about herself. Once she departs she makes surprisingly good time, quickly returning to the designated lounge with a tray stacked with literally every single kind of dish she had been capable of locating in the building's private cafeteria. As she moves to daintily set the tray down Maree's eyes narrow, and the moment Lesley has let the ray go the taller girl casually half-stands and grips her S’s hair, matter-of-factly jerking the girl down on the thick carpet, leaving her to eat her breakfast contemplating the other woman’s thighs, which sit comfortably at eye level, and her own new rugburns which were quickly making themselves known at around knee-level. Unfortunately, the brief altercation had been enough to distract Lesley from one of Maree’s rules long enough for the larger girl to notice, and if the quick slap that Maree delivered to Lesley’s (for once, pale) cheek wasn’t clear enough, the domme’s rough, almost husky whisper was unambiguous.<br>“It’s been weeks since I told Cow that I like looking at her body,” she chides, her breath surprisingly hot in the smaller woman’s ear. “You were supposed to think of ways to put yourself on display, and I believe several spankings have already helped you remember how much I like having something to look at.”<br>With one simple slight Maree has completely re-engaged, the girl in full form as she reaches down to matter-of-factly tug the oversized sweatershirt that Lesley, understandably desperate to make time, had snatched from Maree’s clean laundry as she bolted out the door. “At times you can have an absolutely adorable kind of stupidity about you. Do you really want to hide that, and prevent me from enjoying it?”<br>Smirking, she indulgently drags her hand down under Lesley’s arm to easily cup the light green lace of today’s bra, squeezing the surface almost illustratively as she continues “Your job is making me happy, and it’s no fun if I have to spell everything out for you. I thought you had been paying attention, but I guess you really are in need of more strict training, if this is your best effort.”<br>With that she stands and takes a firm hold of the back of Lesley’s collar, leaving breakfast untouched as she half-drags the girl back to their room. “Layabouts don’t get treats,” she chides, quickly covering the distance their door and maneuvering her unwitting sub inside with surprise ease, propelling her onto the large, yet-unmade bed. Incredibly pleased with herself, Ms. Sheena crosses both arms over her chest easily regarding the sub. “You obviously aren’t getting enough training, but I can’t possibly know what to do with you unless I know where you are deficient. So you’re going to start by demonstrating what you’ve already learned, and I guess we’ll go from there.”<br><br>Fighting to keep amusement off her face Ms. Sheena stares at Lesley expectantly, flatly instructing the girl “Entertain me.”
			</dd>
		</dl>
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