The School Grounds

[BeautifulDream]

"Hand over the bag, Dream. Would hate to start your first day with a spanking wouldn't we?"

A soft chuckle sounded from her lips. Spanking? That was suppose to scare her? Dear lord, this woman could spank her anytime she felt the need! Of course she couldn't let the headmistress know that.

Her face turned down slightly, head falling, fingers fidgetting. The hand holding the pack moving to hold it out toward the headmistress. "I swear there's nothing in it but books and pencils." And the pair of underwear she planned to stragically place in the headmistress's office just for kicks.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"I swear there's nothing in it but books and pencils."

Right.

Vivi peeked in the bag, apples, a few pens and one book, and a couple of things that confirmed that Dream was going to be nothing but trouble. Another smile on red lips.

Vivi closed the bag and handed it back with a grin.

"Good girl."

Vivi turned on her heel and headed back into her office, noting that her staff was going to have their hands full with that one.

Good. She paid them for a reason.
Dream was going to be chaos.
Vivi was going to let her.
For now.

 

[BeautifulDream]

She knew that Vivi spotted the other things in the bag, yet all she did was return it and head away. How interesting. Shaking her head, Dream turned back toward the long empty hallway. The vision of the headmistress's hips swaying as she walked away firm in her mind. It made her grin.

Slinging the pack back over her shoulders she resumed her skipping, the black skirt moving once again against her thighs with each step. She had a Dean's office to invade and a science room to wreck.

This was going to be a fun school.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The headmistress pops her head off the pillow and groans slightly. She's not in pain, she just doesn't feel like being awake. But she is.

And she's alone. She loves getting the whole bed to herself. Her phone however, is dead. It's dead because she spent a little too much time on it the night before.

It was good. Very good.

But now she's awake, and her hair is gigantic and she's relatively sure that shaving it off would get her into trouble.

With a sigh, she makes her way to the closet.
Pajama pants and a sweater. Fuck putting on anything tighter.

Her laptop was set in her lap, she sipped at her Chai from Starbucks and clicked open Pandora.

Today was a writing day.

 

[BeautifulDream]

Another day, another set of annoyances to drive her mad. What was with this world lately? People and their stupidity, she couldn't understand it. She had done her fair share of stupid acts before, that was true, but this wasn't about doing stupid things. This wasn't about misspelling words or using bad grammar, which she also had her fair share of doing, or even acting stupid for attention. This was about how people can be inconsiderate fucks and actually think they can get away with it. This was about the dicks out there who thought they were God.

Stupidity wasn't 'hey guys, watch me try and jump of this building' (although that is pretty stupid), it was 'here, let me make an ass of myself and expect you to apologize for it!' Obviously, stupidity ran deep in their veins if they think people will just deal with their shit and not say something.

Wait, does that even make any sense?

Whatever... it didn't matter. It was her own thoughts so who gives a fuck if it makes sense.

Besides, not much did in her mind.

Oh hey, you made it to school.

Her eyes jumped up from the sidewalk to the doorway. She was distracted. The entire walk to school her head had been in the clouds, oblivious to the world around her. It was okay though, the distractions kept her sane. It kept her from kicking someone's teeth in. But, now she was here. Miss Vivi's School for Difficult Girls and Boys.

She had honestly thought about skipping school today, the urge to just not go was so strong. But, that would have been bad. You're at a school for difficult people, do you honestly think they would be surprised if a student skipped? True, if she did skip she probably wouldn't have been the only one.

With a sigh she lifted her feet again, resuming the steady steps toward the door. One hand reaching out to push against the door, opening it, her body in tow as if the hand lead the way. She didn't bother removing the little headphones from her ears or even cast a greeting glance toward Mrs. Fiana, she simply stepped passed the desk toward the halls.

Now Dream, the question is; are you actually going to go to a class?

 

[Light Ice]

She hadn’t hired him to teach. She’d never. The reality of his relationship with the Headmistress is that in all practical measures of the world – it didn’t exist. From one moment to the next their interactions could change mood and sentiment. It wasn’t the kind of trust one would hope to find in an educator. She knew him well enough to know that he’d be consistent in whatever he saw fit to do and that was enough. He knew his talents and his limitations.

Besides, someone had to keep the place nice.

At first it’d been cleaning. A lot of cleaning. Then, as that’d become more maintenance than work, he’d gotten to legitimate repairs. Today it was a bannister. Tomorrow an entire door.

The bodies slipped past quickly as the day began, doors closing as the classes filled and the halls empty. The tardy girls were the easiest to spot. She was no exception and then she was suddenly a perfect exception. Soft lines, girlish without being infantile. Distracted. It was the kind of distraction and disconcern that only came with the impetuous trappings of youth.

He felt himself laying a hand on his knee, denim dark under his calloused fingers. It was hard to imagine his hands, battered and broken from sports and experience alike, were capable of crafting. Still, though calloused and scarred at the knuckles, the fingers were long. Strong. Sure.

She drew closer. He let her. Taking her in. The masculine cut of his eyes brisk, unapologetic, and sharp in its appraisal. Each curve. Any bare stretch of skin. The color on her cheeks and lips. The attraction held in her eyes.

There were times he could be a gentleman. They were few, certainly, and far between. But, still, they came and lived in him. There were also times he was an intolerable scoundrel. And the Beauty, who deserved more gentleman than scoundrel, had caught him on the latter kind of day.

He lifted a hand. “You’re late.” And called her over.

 

[BeautifulDream]

Some people had horrid timing. She was one of them. Walking into a joke as the punchline was given, it lost it's humor hearing it the second time. Bringing up a topic that was only previously discussed five minutes before her arrive. She's been through all of it. She's witnessed others go through it. Just really bad timing.

He didn't have bad timing. So far, his timing was very damn good.

"You're late."

As one song ended before the other began, his voice carried through to pierce her ears. A deep unfamiliar voice. A man's voice. Even muffled by the ear buds, it was a strong voice. One that brought her attention to him. Eyes moving from the ground before her to the body. His hand up, gesturing her closer. How did she not notice him?

Wait, question was not how did she somehow miss him but was who was he? A teacher perhaps? A visitor? However he was, his presences made her shift uncomfortably. Not a scared shift, but nervous. Her shoulder moving lightly as she adjusted the backpack strap, a soft, quiet sigh escaping as she stepped closer. Her eyes moving about him, taking in his strong form.

"One could argue that I am not late, school is simply early. What does it matter to you? Are you the hall monitor?"

Let's not get cocky, Dream...

 

[thestruggle]

Tightening the belt on her coat, she craned her head back and eyed the building looming above her. Outwardly charming. Something else entirely within? *Tess felt a nervous yet pleasurable hiccup roll through her belly. So far, she had walked a line of observation: voyeuristic, perhaps, yet harmless. Now it was toe-dipping time, and if underneath the puddle lurked a pit, she would at least find out.

A raspy voice behind Tess made her jump, and she felt her already quickened heartbeat go off like a hummingbird's. It was just the damn cab driver, asking for his fare. Red lacquered nails fumbled at the clasp of her oversize purse and she noticed with astonishment that her hands were shaking slightly.

The cab driver noticed too, and raised an eyebrow at the retrieved twenty she was extending towards him. It fluttered in the space between them.

“Please keep the change,” Tess said, smiling. Her voice was sweet, and even in its tone. The smile stiffened as she forced her fingers to find their control. When the driver had tucked away his reward and driven off, she breathed easier. The excitement was back.

Her heels scraped slightly against the concrete as she crossed to the door and entered. Once in the elevator, her hazel eyes scanned over the available buttons. The sign had said the top five floors.

Now or never. Going to chicken out?

Tess pressed the button emphatically and the doors whirred closed. She took out a tube of lipstick and ran it over her lips, the red very crimson against the pale of her face. In the reflection of the compact she snapped open, her mouth widened in a smile. She felt her toes tapping in her heels.

A second whirring noise snapped her back to the moment. Her face was once again a picture of polite interest. Tess felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she strode forward from the confines of the elevator, a reception desk in her sights.

Blowing at a wisp of red bang that fell into her thick eyelashes, she smiled at the receptionist.

“Hello. My name is Tess, and I was hoping to fill out an admissions form?”

As the form was passed over the desk, she swallowed. Her mouth was dry: why? No matter. Her slim fingers grasped the proffered pen and filled out the questions asked on the form.

1. What brings you to the School? It was recommended I come here by one of the staff.

2. Are you known to have disciplinary issues? From time to time. I do try to be a good girl.

3. What do you seek to gain from your time as a student? New experiences. New acquaintances? Whatever can be taught to me.

4. Are there any particular classes you are interested in? I am open to recommendations!

5. Do you know any of the staff? And are you interested in having any of them mentor you? I know the science teacher slightly. I would be honored to be mentored by anyone who would deign to teach me!

Inwardly cringing at her constant politesse, Tess straightened the ponytail she had gathered her hair up in that morning and delicately placed the form back in front of the receptionist. There. It was done. It should have felt a relief to have overcome the first hurdle, but there was a curious sensation rushing along her spine. It tingled down to her fingertips. She struggled to capture a name for it.

Tumbling down the rabbit hole, perhaps. Head first.

(*Tess, short for "the struggle", as nothing else sounded good. I've always liked that name!)

 

[tigerlilyxx]

Lily paused at the door, having sent the cab away already. She imagined that many had done exactly what she did now, glancing at the sign that said "School for difficult girls and boys." She took a deep breath and pressed the button, calling the elevator to her. She smoothed out her black and white striped dress, and stepped in. She pressed the fifth floor button and watched as the doors closed, the outside world disappearing from view.

When the doors opened, she looked around and made her way to the receptionist, slowly, taking everything in. "May I have an application?" She asked, her voice shy and nervous, as it always was when she first met people. Her personality seemed to come as quite a shock, once people really got to know her, and it seemed, she often scared people off.

The woman handed her an application and she thanked her, pulling a pen from her purse, she sat down and began to fill out the form.

1. What brings you to the School?
She paused for a moment. Already pausing on the first question. She rolled her eyes at herself. To be fair, she didn't quite know the answer herself. Someone had mentioned the school in passing, and she'd since looked it up. It was quite impressive and certainly offered a lot of learning opportunities.
I want to learn.
She wrote, her handwriting messy but legible, the green pen sliding with ease across the paper. And this school seems like the best place to do that.
2. Are you known to have disciplinary issues?
She smiled to herself. Disciplinary issues? Her? Neverrr. But what to write?
Not commonly. It was true. She never got in real trouble, just... Minor altercations with authority figures on occasion. I give respect where respect is due. That was true. She just left out the part about deeming for herself who was due the respect.
3. What do you seek to gain from your time as a student?
As previously stated, I wish to learn. I'm young and thirsty for knowledge. She laughed at her words. Could she sound more pathetic? She erased the last sentence and tried again. I enjoy learning new things and making new acquaintances. That was barely better. She didn't know how to look good on paper. She was much better at in person interviews.
4. Are there any particular classes you are interested in?
She hesitated again. Math, science, English, she love them all. But just how desperate did she want to sound. Putting "I love learning everything" would definitely not help. I prefer math and science, but feel that a well rounded education is important, too. She wanted to slap herself. She sounded so fake. She didn't know how else to write, though. What was the school looking for exactly? She sighed and chewed on her pencil, stopping herself rather quickly.
5. Do you know any of the staff? And are you interested in having any of them mentor you?
I do not She wrote. This one was easy. and I have no real preferences.

She looked over her application, and sighed. She'd be surprised if anyone accepted her based on those answers. She checked it over once quickly for errors. She then stood and handed the application back to the receptionist, smiling at her softly as she did.

"Is that all I need to do?" She asked, tugging on the hem of her dress. She paused and then added. "Is it possible for me to do an actual interview? I'm not very good on paper."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Click-click-click-click-click

Her heels echoed in the almost empty halls, her long fingers curled around her ever present crop, the stragglers in the hallway fleeing before she reached them. Which was kind of the point. Allow her students to seek safety from their teachers....well some of them anyway. It wouldn't really come from her.

Not often anyway.

Red lips curled into a smile as she took in the backside of her janitor. She tilted her head a little and enjoyed the view, smirking slightly as Dream sauntered closer.

"Ahem."

She cleared her throat and smiled down at both of them.

"Dream, darling off to class, I see that you're late, do we need to have a talk about your tardiness?" Another grin, "Right. Off to class with you. We'll will be having a chat later about this darling."

She spun towards her Caretaker, a man that had few words, but many actions, he could melt her with a look...when she wanted that look. Now, she had other things for him to do.

"Ice, please see to the door on Ms. Brit's classroom. It's been sticking and I might have recently damaged it. She's expecting you."

She didn't wait for him to talk, knowing he wouldn't, she headed back to her office, enjoying the cadence of her heels on the floor. The elevator announced her arrival into the office and she glanced at a very harried Ms. Fiala, who gestured her over and handed over two intake admissions.

Glancing at them quickly, she nodded, and looked up at the two girls sitting in the office.

"Miss Tess, you'll come with me. Ms. Lily, I'll be contacting you shortly to arrange for an intake interview. Thank you ladies."

Turning on her heels once more, she headed into her office and waited for Tess to follow her. The crop.. was set lightly on the oak desk quite obviously. She sat and watched her enter, a small smile playing on red lips as she considered the girl.

This would be fun.

 

[thestruggle]

Tess had taken off her coat and settled in a chair, holding both coat and her bag on her lap. Part of her had longed to prowl around the reception area, to sift out clues about her surroundings. Why, curious? Something inside of her was smirking. She exhaled, breathing in the soothing scent of the lavender oil she had dabbed at her pulse points earlier. Another girl came in and filled out a form as well. Tess wondered vaguely what had brought her here, what her secrets were, but kept silent. She was too nervous to hold a proper conversation, and besides, it was none of her business.

She was idly running a fingernail along the hem of her dress when the elevator doors slid open. Tess stood up when she saw the receptionist gesture at the elevator's sole passenger, throwing her bag and coat hastily over one arm. A beat, as Tess watched the intake form pass into the stranger's hands. The moment stretched like taffy: an insane impulse to reach out and snatch the paper away, tear it into a fine flurry of pieces, and flee towards the elevator. Tess wondered for a moment if she might be slightly delirious.

In what must have been seconds, it was decided. “Miss Tess, you'll come with me.”

Dazedly, Tess straightened the bottom of her dress and smiled shyly at both the other girl and the receptionist. A few quick steps to catch up, and then her legs slid into a smooth walk, almost as though she had never fallen behind. Don't count on her not noticing that. She probably doesn't miss much. Tess felt her breathing slowly even out as she entered the office. Her body, small and lithe, took up barely any space before the desk.

Why do you no longer feel caged now, when the trap is creaking shut? Now you feel at home.

Tess took in the office with a few sweeping glances, and her eyes fell to the crop on the desk. A breath caught in her throat and the smallest of smiles passed over her lips. Barely a twitch of the mouth. She had been keeping her gaze respectfully polite, but now, with the instrument displayed between them, some distant veil in her eyes dropped away. Tess felt she met the Headmistress's eyes, and knew this school for what it was, and it sent a frisson of delight down into her bones.

She held on to her coat but hitched her purse up onto her shoulder. Her hands clasped loosely behind her back, she stood, waiting. On another it might have been an aggressive pose, but for Tess it was quite feminine. Her eyes lowered casually to the floor, and then darted back up mischievously. It wouldn't do to start the conversation, although her mouth ached to spill out questions about everything she had seen so far, and what she hadn't yet set eyes on.

On the other hand...

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Tess said, her voice clear but low.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

Vi nodded softly and fingered the piece of paper in her hand, a tiny smile on her lips, before she finally looked up at the small girl standing before the desk.

1. What brings you to the School? It was recommended I come here by one of the staff.

2. Are you known to have disciplinary issues? From time to time. I do try to be a good girl.

3. What do you seek to gain from your time as a student? New experiences. New acquaintances? Whatever can be taught to me.

4. Are there any particular classes you are interested in? I am open to recommendations!

5. Do you know any of the staff? And are you interested in having any of them mentor you? I know the science teacher slightly. I would be honored to be mentored by anyone who would deign to teach me!

Cute.

The door to her office slammed shut as Fiala went bustling by and she watched the girl for her reaction. It was slight, but there. More curious than anything, but her stance was that of one who was used to waiting to be told to do something.

Interesting.

"Have a seat, Tess."

Never let it be said that Miss Vivi wasn't a fan of games. For truly, she was, little telling things about her students, leaving small choices that gave away her students without them having to spill their dark little secrets to her. Which they did...anyway.

Before her desk were three chairs.

One opulent high backed chair.
Her dean and science teacher were particular to this one. Especially when they felt like giving her orders.

One simple plain, small, brown chair.
Her Literature teacher was fond of this one. It meant business, it also meant that she was slightly lower than Vi. Equal. Business.

And then a simple, but large cushion on the floor.
Her school counselor was partial to this one. It also meant business. But it came with a few more breathless begging words.

"Please, do sit down Tess, we have much to discuss. I'm particularly interested in finding out what being a good girl looks like to you."

The choice belonged firmly in the girl's hands. Where she went would determine how this went for her. Vi glanced up, assessing Tess quickly with knowing hazel eyes, before dropping her gaze to the desk, where she jotted down a few notes and waited for a seat to be chosen.

 

[thestruggle]

“Have a seat, Tess.”

She had been waiting for the request. If she had been hoping to remain a mystery, her delay in taking action announced her proclivities. Such a simple question. But there it remained. Just sit your ass down.

Tess slid her purse down her arm and laid both it and her coat to the side. Her movements were composed, steady, but her thoughts were ticking away down the choices laid before her. The richest of the seats repelled her instantly. Regardless of its symbolism, Tess was rarely moved by luxury. Some elegance, perhaps: her shoes, her clothes, her nails. Trifles, yes, but some girlish notions were comforting when she became disquieted by her own desires.

It's nice to feel pretty even when you're crawling in the dirt.

Her nails grazed the back of the throne-like chair, and she passed to the next. Simplicity, firmness. Tess could picture herself in this chair just fine. Ankles crossed, fingers locked. Her eyebrow quirked up. She fought against a rise of incredulity at her own reluctance. There was something not right here. The wooden chair, for all its sturdy consolation, was not who she was here to learn about. Perhaps in time. But not right now.

Her fingers thrummed a staccato beat across the wood. Something that felt very like freedom swelled in her throat. Tess stepped away, and touched the cushion with the toe of a black stiletto shoe. Surprised? Like you ever would have missed a chance to kneel. She gazed over at the Headmistress, allowing herself an unguarded look.

“Please, do sit down Tess, we have much to discuss. I'm particularly interested in finding out what being a good girl looks like to you.”

Smiling, Tess reached up and loosed her hair from its ponytail, the red locks spilling over her shoulders.

“Thank you, Miss. I think sometimes chairs can be so... confining.” She dropped her body gracefully to the cushion on the floor, her knees bending in one fluid movement. A practiced motion, indeed.

Tess waited, revealed, with lowered eyes and high interest.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Her head tilted slightly as she watched Tess, all lithe lines and sweet strength. Vivi would be lying if she said that her hands didn't twitch just a little when the girl sank into the cushion. The movement was fluid and practiced, Vi nodded appreciatively at her words.

Standing, she made her way around the desk to stand in front of it and look down at the girl.

"Welcome to the school, Ms. Tess. I'm appreciative of your strength in coming here. We strive to meet our student's needs in unorthodox and meaningful ways."

She paused here and looked down at the sheet in her hand.

"You're here in a place for difficult girls and boys, and yet you have stated that you are most often a good girl. Which I find interesting. Are you good because you want to be? Or because you've been told to be?"

Another pause, and the crop was in her hand, while she circled Tess on the cushion, her heels clicking against the wood floor as if to punctuate her sentences.

"Tell me why you've chosen the cushion."

Click

"And if it is because you imagine yourself to be a submissive, what makes you think you deserve to submit in this space.. to your headmistress?"

click

She stood behind the girl and imagined for a moment that complete euphoric feeling when leather hits skin. Vi tightened her grip on the crop and bent over at the waist, her lips hovering near the girl's ear. She whispered softly, "Are you here for education or to let my staff and other students use you?"

Click

 

[thestruggle]

Tess drew upright after granting herself a moment of cataloguing the situation: the cushion cradling her legs, her skirt drawing up slightly on her thighs, the deliberate movements of the woman walking towards her. You're telling yourself not to grin like the Cheshire Cat, but you should probably feel afraid. Those heels on the floor, walking right at you, and you're acting like a teenager.

"Welcome to the school, Ms. Tess. I'm appreciative of your strength in coming here. We strive to meet our student's needs in unorthodox and meaningful ways."

She inclined her head, her hair glinting in the light. Her neck stayed long, her back straight. Who are you trying to impress? The sound of paper flapping told her that the form was being perused again. Tess struggled to recall her answers. Short, to the point—should she have been descriptive? She wasn't about to play that game. The second guesses for coming to this school and her actions once inside could leap frog each other out the door.

"You're here in a place for difficult girls and boys, and yet you have stated that you are most often a good girl. Which I find interesting. Are you good because you want to be? Or because you've been told to be?"

Tess felt her fingers shake slightly at the question. She flicked her wrists impatiently to rid them of the tremor, folded her hands demurely in her lap. She didn't fidget, as a rule. She was content to sit, to wait, to-- Yes, you love to wait. At least until you start to beg. --to be a good girl. The need to be controlled, yes, but also the desire to serve. Tess knew some found it dull. That submission was a lack of imagination or effort. Her lips twitched at the thought.

“I do, Miss. I want to be good. There are times when--” Her voice was surprisingly clear, but faltered at the last. “Times when I need to be told to be good, as a reminder. I would be good all the time if I didn't like to be... punished. Miss. I need to learn to fight that urge, to know that what I like doesn't matter. It's what I came here to be taught.”

A pause, the silence lengthening between them. She kept her eyes level with the desk, feeling the words fall over her and twist their way inside her mind. Tess heard a small noise—the crop being picked up, the distance closed again. Her eyes shuttered close for the briefest of moments. Part of her felt an extraordinary tug: to kiss the ground before the feet circling her, to run her fingers up the legs pacing around her. The cushion felt like an island, the last refuge.

She waited.

"Tell me why you've chosen the cushion."

Her fingertips gliding from thigh to pillow. The pillow as terra firma, anchoring her. You're awake.

"And if it is because you imagine yourself to be a submissive, what makes you think you deserve to submit in this space.. to your headmistress?"

A tremble ran visibly down her throat as she swallowed. Heat flared down into her belly, circling like a lazy dragon.

“I chose the cushion because I am most comfortable kneeling, Miss. Not just physically,” Tess spoke, feeling honest and not a little exposed. These answers bared her to the bone. “Kneeling... subjugation, submission. Being pleasing. Those are my rewards, if I deserve them, if I am allowed them. I know that I am given what is chosen to present to me, gift to me, nothing more. I don't choose.”

She watched the heels out of the corner of her eye. They moved like sharks cutting through water. Speak very, very carefully.

“I wouldn't begin to think I deserve it, Miss. I desire to submit,” and here her breath caught. There was a minute where Tess reached down to the cushion for its security, feeling its heft under her again. Tremblingly, her sweet voice continued, “I do desire it. To serve as you wish. To learn, Miss. As I'm allowed.”

Her eyes glanced up, then down. Don't get cocky. You're in deep, deep water.
Click.

The heels came to a stop behind her. There was an odd swooping sensation as her heart flip flopped in her chest.

Then the words, which flowed as a river into her ear. They settled right next to the sensation of kneeling on the floor, of watching a crop with hunger, and of longing to kiss a mistress's shoe. An audible inhalation. Because she knew she wanted to learn, but the rest of her cried out to be used. Yes. Used.

"Are you here for education or to let my staff and other students use you?"

Tess fought the urge to deny it instantly, to protect-- what, your good name? Some integrity. There was still that. She did want to learn. She needed to be reminded that her whims were just that—whims. If someone tied her up, it was because they wanted her trussed. If someone gripped her throat, they wanted her breathless. These things were not her own decisions, although they were her desires.

“Please, Miss. For me they are... they're the same. I need to learn, to be reminded, that my use is dictated as I submit. I do love to kneel...” And Tess knew she was getting close to it, to the secret, to the answer that belied all of her behavior. “But I also love to fight. And I kick at my cage, because I like to see what it stirs up. What consequences await me.”

Finally telling the truth, little miss slave. Let's see what good it does you.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Are you here for education or to let my staff and other students use you?"

Vi watched the girl hesitate. Watched her shake a little. To accept the question and find her words.

“Please, Miss. For me they are... they're the same. I need to learn, to be reminded, that my use is dictated as I submit. I do love to kneel..But I also love to fight. And I kick at my cage, because I like to see what it stirs up. What consequences await me.”

The soft laughter bubbled from her throat, and past her lips. It was the chuckle of one who had bagged a new toy, and merely needed to reach out and take it.

Fingers itched, nails sought to claw, she wanted to curl a fistful of hair around her hand and demand obedience and service, to whip it from her skin, to hear this girl cry out in need and abandon when the pain fried her brain and sent her crawling up the walls with unfulfilled lust. She gripped the crop tighter, and exhaled these images away from her.

Control.

Quick strides away from the kneeling girl. Ignoring her, focused on the task at hand.

Her intake was placed upon the desk.
A paddle was placed upon the desk.
The chairs were moved out of the way.
Finally, the door was opened.

There, the Headmistress paused, considering the girl once more.

"Ms. Tess. Welcome to the School. You have a choice to make. Your acceptance is secured, you are free to slave yourself to any member of our school and enjoy every moment of it. Congratulations."

She grinned happily down at Tess, before continuing, "Your choice is this. You may either leave and enjoy your time here. Or you may stand up, remove the dress, close the door and bend over the table. Your submission will either be freely given or not at all."

Vi leaned forward, letting her red curls fall around her shoulders, while her hand caressed the girl's cheek, her words soft and sweet.

"The choice, my darling pet, is yours to make."

Stepping away, Vi returned to her chair behind the desk and returned to running the school. What the child did was up to her. Vi wouldn't be involved until the choice was made, and she wasn't going to sit around and wait.

She had a school to run.

 

[thestruggle]

Tess heard the laughter. She felt it settle around her, its hushed timbre raising goosebumps along her arms. Crimson nails resisted the impulse to drag themselves along her limbs and rid herself of the prickling sensation overwhelming her skin. A ragged breath escaped her lips. Tess could scarcely believe her response to such a simple sound. It contained more than mere amusement: to her it was power, a reminder of why she had knelt to the Headmistress in the first place.

A creaking of leather. Her back arched imperceptibly. And you said you were a good girl. The moments ticked by, her breathing working like an abacus. Tess thought her mouth had never been drier, but whether it was from fear or desire, she could not tell.

All at once, the footsteps that had circled her like a predator after prey moved away from her. Brisk, businesslike. Coming out of her fog, Tess looked around. The Headmistress had shifted back to the main objective: admission. Moment of truth. She watched as the form was laid upon the handsome desk. A paddle joined the paper. Tess's eyes went round at its appearance. Was this it? Was this a test? She had no doubt that administering a matter-of-fact physical evaluation may be routine here, but somehow the atmosphere had changed. The door opened and she looked up to meet the unflinching gaze of the Headmistress. A tiny flicker of dismay tapped at her chest.

"Ms. Tess. Welcome to the School. You have a choice to make. Your acceptance is secured, you are free to slave yourself to any member of our school and enjoy every moment of it. Congratulations."

Oh shit. A fast succession of emotions moved over Tess's face: hope, pride, uncertainty, and finally happiness in the form of a hesitant smile. She waited, watching as the Headmistress smiled down on her.

"Your choice is this. You may either leave and enjoy your time here. Or you may stand up, remove the dress, close the door and bend over the table. Your submission will either be freely given or not at all."

Tess sat up at that, blinking. Oh, she's good. Scary good. Why in the hell are you still kneeling on this cushion instead of reading a nice, safe book somewhere? She'll eat you for lunch. The Headmistress leaned forward, and Tess heard the rustle of fabric. A hand was lifted to her face, stroking the velvety skin of her cheek. Her gaze was trained on the mouth in front of her. The Headmistress spoke again.

"The choice, my darling pet, is yours to make."

As the chair behind the desk was once again occupied, Tess felt the air rush out of her noiselessly. The tension of the interview was over, but it had been replaced by a new apprehension. Oh, the choice. What a choice! Like an alcoholic with a fondness for scotch choosing between tumblers of Glenfiddich and Glenlivet. She would've upended the bottles into her mouth, if given a choice. But like so many things in life, the game was already set.

Freely given, or not at all.

She stood up, her diminutive frame giving her what felt like a skyscraper view over the cushion that lay at her feet. Tess remembered selecting the dress she wore. She remembered slipping her feet into the classy heels that supported her body even now. They felt superfluous now, silly somehow. Like putting a big red bow on a steak before you eat it. She snorted, barely audible.

Tess walked towards the door, her movements deliberate. You know what you came for. She looked at the receptionist sitting at the desk. Idly she wondered if there had been an interview for her, a sequence of choices leading down the line. She smiled. Her hands grasped the bottom of her dress, her arms crossing in front of her chest as she pulled it over her head. Tess shook out her hair, the auburn tresses falling easily back into place right beneath her shoulders. As she moved to shut the door, she was briefly grateful that she had decided on the underwear after all.

Although, she thought as the receptionist disappeared behind the door, commando probably would have made for a more dramatic reveal.

She leaned her back against the door for a minute, her shoulder blades pushing her body forward. There was no telling if it was for succor, or if she was merely making sure the door had closed. Do what you're told. She brought her hands away from the curve of her hips and pushed herself up from the bulwark behind her. Heels tapping as she crossed the brief expanse to her destination: the desk, and the Headmistress behind it. Tess leaned her body forward, pale skin emanating a glow of anticipation. Everything filling in nicely as her forearms made contact with the wood.

The wood under her skin. The paddle on the desk. The tingling at the small of her back.

Good girls get what they deserve.

"Ready, Miss."

She closed her eyes, and smiled.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Minutes
.
.
.
.
.
.
Ticked
.
.
.
.
.
.
By.

The only sound in the room was that of the girl breathing, and her Headmistress shuffling papers. Vivi was completely aware that the girl was ready, which was sweet, but submission was only one part of their game.

Vivi wanted her new toy's anticipation dripping.

So she made her wait.

The quiet room filled only with papers moving about. Vi even set some of her work over the girl's hands on the table, paying absolutely no attention to the fact that she was even in the space.

You could hear the tick of the clock behind Vivi.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The seconds, and minutes rolling by without a change in the room.
Vi wondered briefly if she would ever hear a sound from the girl, but her attention was dragged away by a pay raise email from her Literature teacher. Another thing that Ms. Brit would have to work for.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Vi casually straightened her desk, taking some of her paperwork to the filing cabinet. Her heels once more clicking across the floor, her movement obvious to the one bent over the desk. There she stopped. Directly behind the girl. Saying nothing for the moment. One immaculate french tipped nail sliding down an exposed spine between bra and panties, leaving long red line in it's wake. Beautiful.

Vivi wanted to draw lines in this skin, to mark it, to sign her initials in welts and hear the girl beg for it.

But not yet.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The clocked ticked on interminably and a little pink tongue was dragged over red lips. Red curls tucked behind a pearl bedecked ear. One hand was placed warmly upon soft skin that reacted with small goosebumps under her touch.

Exquisite.

"Ask for it, darling one. Ask me to hurt you, to make you beg, to kneel for me. Be a good girl and ask to be turned into my little mess."

 

[thestruggle]

Tess was surprised at how exposed she felt. She had bent over the damn desk in her underwear and knew what the results would be. Or at least she hoped she did. Regardless, Tess felt curiously naked. It was one thing to approach life with a zen attitude, but to try and wait without prediction of future actions? There were many things in this office that were unknown to her. The papers on the desk, the as yet untouched paddle, who knew what else.

The Headmistress kept her work up. Efficient, to the point. Tess kept her eyes down.

More than any of that, the woman behind the desk was the greatest enigma. This woman, this creature, with her red hair and mouth, her sharp nails and heels. She was so dangerous for Tess. She could tumble over and over, into a mewling mass on the floor at her feet, while that voice above her shouted or kept silent. The Headmistress—her new Headmistress—made Tess want to cry aloud and nothing had even happened yet. But it was the promise that lurked behind that sweet voice. It was the skin and smell and most of all it was the knowing look in her eyes.

Tess knew her limits.

She knew the Headmistress would push them. She knew it like she knew her name or her birthday. And that was why she knelt.

The work continued on the desk. Her breathing went in and out, in and out. She watched the papers settle on her hands.

Her thoughts were hazy, disjointed. They had come so quickly to this point. Tess had felt a release when she first saw the crop on the desk. It had been her own bratty inner voice that had made her resist stripping off her dress immediately, more than any actual trepidation. Tess knew she should be feeling more fear. And there was fear, a healthy dollop. But mostly, there was a growing excitement. It seeped and twisted with apprehension, those two shambling responses that could leave toes curled and a stomach in knots. They were doing it now. She wished she had kicked off her heels before leaning over.

The papers shifted on top of her hands. Her palms were flat on the surface, the heat from her skin radiating up through her arms. She could feel the pressure of every individual fingertip prushing into the desk.

Maybe she wanted a table ornament. Tess bit her lip, almost bringing blood, to keep from laughing. Laughing, now, out of all the moments to laugh. The time was starting to unhinge her, just slightly, but enough that she bore down on her thoughts. Hard.

The clock ticked on.
The papers turned.
Tess would wait. Even if it was swallowing down her words to wait. But, said the bad side of her head, you could just ask. What could happen if you asked?

The chair moved out from the desk and the Headmistress rose. Tess heard the filing cabinet open and shut. Shit. It was what she had been waiting for but she was totally unprepared. A burble of fear moved through her mind. She didn't know what to expect. Wanting to feel something: a slap, a kiss, a bruise, a bite, a burn. Not knowing which was coming—it scared the hell out of her.

It also turned her on.

The footsteps stopped behind her, again. Last time kneeling, this time bending. Always at the disadvantage. That's the point. Tess closed her eyes. She expected the Headmistress to speak. Nothing.

When the nail made contact with her skin, her breathing hitched in tight. Her back jumped, only slightly, but enough to help push what the scratch had started. A whimper. The sting was leaving but she could feel the air moving over the scratch on her back. It was enough. Tess knew the switch had been hit.

"Ask for it, darling one. Ask me to hurt you, to make you beg, to kneel for me. Be a good girl and ask to be turned into my little mess."

Her head dipped down towards her hands. She felt her calves relaxing from where they had tightened after the scratch, but immediately they tensed again when the Headmistress put her hand on Tess's back. Breathing hard, but slowing, slowing...

It was no problem to ask. But whether it was insanity or the long wait or both combined, recklessness seized her.

She laughed, quietly; it was barely an exhalation.

After all, this is a school for difficult girls and boys.

“Make. Me. Miss.”

 

[Miss_Vivi]

“Make. Me. Miss.”

Vivi grinned. She beamed down at the girl, who of course, had no idea what exactly was on the headmistresses face at that moment, all of this while one hand sunk into auburn tresses of the bent one and pulled her upright, her lips a breath away from the girl's cheek as she pressed their bodies together together, tightening her fingers into Tess's hair.

"Let's make you, darling pet."

Vi turned on her heel and dragged the girl by her hair with her.
Opened the door.
Straight through the office, a Ms Fiala barely stopping to work as the headmistress dragged a half naked girl through the office and into the hallway.
Thought the hallway, the click of black heels on the floor followed by the slap of bare feet.
Students who had been milling about tried not to stare or loiter any longer, but many failed on both counts, staring at Tess and refusing to meet the glare of their headmistress.
There might have been protests from the girl she dragged but not a single one of them reached Vi's ears, as they marched to the Dance Studio.

She had chosen the space because there wasn't a single soft space in the room. Because above the rafters there was a lifted cage, because it was all hardness and edges and brightness. And in the mirror Tess would have to face the reality of her situation, even as she found pleasure in it.

There was a class in session.
About 20 girls in all.
Lined up at the barre.
All staring at the Headmistress and her charge.

Vi pulled the girl in front of her and let go, letting Tess fall to the ground at her feet. Another grin. She gestured for the students to stay where they were, while her arms crossed over her chest and she contemplated the little one in front of her.

"Now, my pet. Show all your peers how good you are. And ask. Or I can leave you here to their tender mercies."

 

[thestruggle]

The fingers dug into into Tess's hair and pulled. There was a press of cheek to cheek, body to body. Tess opened her mouth to cry out with surprise but the noise died in her throat, leaving her gasping. Her stomach plummeted when the Headmistress next spoke.

"Let's make you, darling pet."

Her entire body followed in the direction of the pain radiating down from her scalp. Tears started abruptly at the sharp and steady pang. No time for thoughts. No room for thoughts. She skipped and slid on her heels; they were knocked from her feet by the precipitous movement. Feet made contact with the floor. Toes digging and sliding. The inertia was incredible: even if Tess had thought to fight this sudden physicality, this reminder of her capitulation, she would have found herself scalped. And so she was dragged.

Her fingers sought to meet the ones entangled in her hair. Tried to push or pull her skin to grant something resembling respite. The Headmistress was relentless. What began as gasps and and elevated breathing turned into uneven crying. Tess couldn't help it. She had no one to blame but herself. If she had come looking for power to be usurped, then her wish had been granted. Abundantly.

She knew they had passed through the office door, past the receptionist, through the hallway. The sounds of hushed comments and questions reached her ears, which burned at the thought of the picture she was making to the people grouped in the halls. A thought flickered in, unbidden: a picture of a bad girl. There wasn't time to dwell on it. Prettily painted toenails still glinting as her small feet scrambled for purchase, thighs and calves straining with effort.

Just when Tess began to believe her hair would be separated from her body, that the Headmistress may drag her forever—so effortless was her action!--a door opened. The clenching fingers so painfully wrapped above her head whipped her forward. Tess cried out then, a startling noise in the still room.

A tumble of pale limbs, landing in a heap upon the floor. Chest heaving, Tess took a moment to orient herself. Some kind of studio. All merciless light and sharp angles. The last place she had expected. But what did you really expect? Her hands unfurled her fingers from their clenched positions. Palms flat on the floor.

Weeping.

Her hair was a tangled mess. Tess pushed herself up from her stomach, her lower body still sprawled out. She took in the line of girls staring at her like the girlthing she was; the shock of seeing others so soon after such pain was bizarre. Tess eyed them like an animal, her gaze hunted and dark. She would have scrambled backward if she hadn't known the Headmistress was standing there, watching.

"Now, my pet. Show all your peers how good you are. And ask. Or I can leave you here to their tender mercies."

A sickening thud of her heart resounded through her chest. The game did always stay the same. The Headmistress wasn't going to let her get away without begging. And you should beg. Tess swallowed painfully. The view in front of her fragmented into glimmering shreds of light as a tear clung to her eyelashes. She resisted the urge to brush it away. It would have seemed girlish, vulnerable. There was quite enough vulnerability here.

The girls in line watched her impassively.
The only noise in the room came from her mouth.
Shuddering breaths. The slight movements of her hands.

Tess knew to choose the lesser of two evils. It was a way of life for her with these games, despite the moments where depravity seized her and she lashed out. The question here was which was which? Trying to make a safe bet?

Perhaps. What was safe, after all? Was it who would cane more even lines on her skin? Was it who would use her body more completely? Was, why, what. Always the choice. It was something that one would think would be foreign, when submitting. That the choice would be taken. But it was never that way. She had to choose. To be a good girl. To be a bad seed.

She closed her eyes, getting her breathing back in hand. Her delicate collarbone stilled as the effort to bring in oxygen calmed. Dragged herself to a kneeling position that faced the Headmistress, her limbs moving with much less of the grace she had displayed when kneeling earlier. But it was there, it was inborn—a natural gift. Tess wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. She moved it away to lay palm down on her thigh, the smear of red lipstick on pale skin telling her that the mess was building itself. Or perhaps destroying was a better word.

Tess knew she would speak. It was bitter but she would speak. She would again find release in those words, even if they were forced from her.

“Please, Headmistress. Will you please make this girl beg? Will you please make this g-girl--”

A sob knifed through her. She felt the eyes on her, roaming over her.

“Make me hurt, please, Miss. Please, will you let me kneel?”

Tess bowed over, her body bent in the middle. Her arms clutched each other, crossed over her chest. There was only her pleas left now.

“Please, Miss, please. Please, will you use me? Break me? Please.”

Somewhere, dimly, a thought: I can't pretend that I don't admire her style.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Vi contemplated the girl at her feet, but only for a moment. She didn't even look up to the group of students that watched them quietly. "Get out." The words were low, but easily heard. The girls scurried out, quickly, their teacher strolled out with a little huff in the headmistress's direction. Vi would deal with that later.

Hazel eyes slid to the kneeling one, who barely met her eyes, whose lipstick already stained her face, who shook slightly, but didn't move. Vi, was pleased.

For the moment at least.

She turned and walked away. Leaving her alone in the middle of the floor. Vi shrugged off her tailored suit jacket tossing it on a chair, rolled up the silk sleeves under it, and turned on the music which blared through the room.

The guitar was harsh in this space. Dirty.
The voice light.
It suited Vi.
Violence and lust.
Softness in curves, mirrored hardness.

I’ll seek you out,
Flay you alive
One more word and you won’t survive
And I’m not scared of your stolen power
See right through you any hour


She picked up a chair, casually strode to the mirror.
With an intake she slammed it into the glass. Watching the million splintering cracks that spread over the surface. Some pieces remained on the wall, however many shards rained around her, landing on the wood around the headmistress. The sudden violence felt good to her, she sighed softly, happily.

I won’t soothe your pain
I won’t ease your strain
You’ll be waiting in vain
I got nothing for you to gain

She picked up a small piece of glass, fitting into her palm against the scars that were already there. It wouldn't cut her, most likely, but it might. An easy sacrifice and reminder she was willing to make.

I’m taking it slow
Feeding my flame
Shuffling the cards of your game
And just in time
In the right place
Suddenly I will play my ace

The chair was dragged lazily behind her across the wooden floor.
Clicking crunching glass beneath her heels.
The sound which faded to only clicks before she reached this new pet. Assuring her that the girl would suffer no pain that she herself didn't give.

I won’t soothe your pain (ah-ah-ah-ah)
I won’t ease your strain
(ah-ah-ah-ah)
You’ll be waiting in vain
(ah-ah-ah-ah)
I got nothing for you to gain

Soundlessly sinking into the chair, black pencil skirt sliding up soft pale thighs, the piece of mirror tucked under her for safekeeping. Her soft hands seeking out the sweet mess before her.

Eyes on fire
Your spine is ablaze
Felling any foe with my gaze

Gentle caresses, that melted fear, even sweeter kisses that promised no pain.
All candy coated lies from this Miss.

And just in time
In the right place


Lips were pressed together when the piece of glass was freed, slipping under taut lace and severing connections, leaving minimal cuts in their wake. Vi cradled the girl to her, even as her panties and bra fell to the floor.

...Steadily emerging with grace

 

[thestruggle]

The tendrils of her hair were draped across her brow in a way that was unfamiliar, bothersome. Tess kept her hands cupped around her elbows. A divide had erected itself in her brain and her thoughts could not yet transverse the impasse. She submitted. She resisted. She was at once kneeling, passive, and yet her internal voice was chaos. Discordant. The drag down the hall and the abrupt cessation had left her reeling.

This is just the beginning.

“Get out.”

A shudder ran through Tess and then abated. Footsteps treading on the floor away from her, the door shutting with an air of finality. The belly of the beast.

It would have been an appropriate time to gather her thoughts, to buttress her defenses. She was so susceptible now, a wide open book. Tess could feel the Headmistress making ready to flip through the pages at her own leisurely pace. The click of heels once more. It was a sound that had always felt erotic to her, redolent with confidence. Awakening that subservient demon.

The Headmistress had removed her jacket. Rolled up her sleeves. The latter made Tess drop her hands to thighs abruptly, her nails digging lightly into her skin. The half-moons bit into her flesh. She was recalled to herself, the sensation nudging through the stupor that had enveloped her after the previous performance. Tess could practically feel her mouth begin to water. It was preferable to the dry mouth she had suffered during the interview.

The music began to play behind her. Her palms started to sweat. There was no way to tell what the Headmistress planned for her. Tess had no desire to speculate. The woman captivated her, drew her eye like a hunter drawing a bead on a deer, like a moth to flame. How strange. It shouldn't have been surprising. Her brain was linear, drawing comfort in lists and logic. It was in her submission that she found a creative release, her cravings stilled. It was fitting, that she knelt on this floor, and waited.

The Headmistress picked up the chair.
Tess waited.
The chair was carried to the mirror. Its solid frame met the glass. Splinters falling.
Tess flinched.
She waited.

Kneeling is a peculiar thing. It is a posture of patience, expectation. There was a tinkling of glass, shards moved together. It ceased. Tess closed her eyes and studied the pattern of light on the inside of her lids. Bursts of color, a miniature stained glass diorama. As the Headmistress ground her way through the broken mirror, Tess arched her back, the curvature of her spine dipping above the swell of her ass. On display.

The music soared around them and crystallized the moment, enhancing it. As the Headmistress dragged the chair, Tess pictured her nails on her skin. Her head turned towards the approach, trepidation and appetite sluicing beyond a thrumming heart. The chair was set on the floor. Tess's lips quaked. She felt she would quail, falter, prostrate herself. Her eyes looked up at a shadow. Graceful hands were reaching for her.

Whatever qualms were there lost themselves. Tess struggled to stay above the contact, the fingers gliding over her skin. The mouth moving over hers, lips dancing, some secret ritual that she could not follow. It felt like every nerve ending her body possessed had directed its reaction to where the Headmistress placed her hands, her kisses. A paroxysm of synapses. Her fingers yearned to enfold themselves in the red curls that grazed her with their softness, to pull that mouth down and keep it there. Dimly, she felt she should be aware.

Of what?

The violence preceding the twining of limbs began to ebb away, the glass shards twinkling out into black behind closed eyes. Tess had not been permitted but she felt brave enough to slide her own finespun hands over the fabric at the Headmistress's shoulders, smoothing and reveling in its richness. The skin beneath would be much more lush than this. A helpless noise escaped her mouth. She felt Vivi's hands steady themselves for something, no longer touching for simple enjoyment, but now with purpose. Holding her in place.

When the glass came near her skin Tess felt poised above a yawning maw, the need blooming into a voracity that could not stay infused beneath. It would break beyond, from the toe dipped in water to a full-body baptism. The shard cut through the fabric that was her last placebo, the last supposed defense entirely hers. Her fingers dug into the Headmistress's blouse, clasping as the heat blazed up through her stomach and chest. The keen edge of glass bit into her skin. Tess cried out with longing, her voice echoing into the luscious mouth that captured her intonation and tucked it away. Any words she might utter would be stillborn.

Yet she tried, for here and now with her body exposed and hands roaming, touching, seeking—Tess wanted to know she could indeed still find her voice, her words. “Please, Miss. Please.”

Whether she begged for the pain, the sting, the blood she could feel welling where the glass had scratched—whether she begged for it to cease, she could not say. The music trailed away, its ethereal voice and cadence leaving a girl gathered to a Headmistress, the accents of red and glass and black, one nude and the other radiating power in her dress.

“Oh, please.”

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Intoxicating.

The pleas and submission of the one in her arms was positively breathtaking, and Vi curled her fingers around that place of power within her. Her grip tightened on the girl, and her kiss deepened, demanded and drank from her. Vi took as she pleased, breathing the sweet heady scent of Tess and her submission. She could be happy with this.

Happy. But never content. She wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

The mirror in her hand flicked against the soft skin over a hip and cut it open, Vi knew it wasn't deep, but the sting of it flashed through the eyes of this new pet. The rich sound of pain coming from the girl, made Vi squirm in her own excitement.

Sigh
"You're gorgeous pet."

The mirror was dropped to the floor and and a delicate finger was dipped into the drop of blood that beaded against otherwise flawless skin. She cradled the girl to her full chest while the painted finger dipped against beautiful lips covering them in red once more.

Perhaps a little morbid. Perhaps.. but she couldn't help herself but paint this girl and make her more beautiful. A smile while she drank this moment in, hazel eyes raking over this exquisite girl in her arms.

And then it passed.

Vi flipped her over.
Placed her over her knees.
Ran a nail down an exposed spine.
Pinched bare skin.
Raised her arm and slapped a hand down on a perfectly pert ass.
For no other reason than that she could.
And she liked watching the flesh redden under hand.
Redden it did after 6 swats.. 12.. 18.. till her hand stung and the girl under her... well those noises did not make Vi want to stop.
She did stop, if only to graze her nails over warm naked and sensitive flesh.
...damn...

Fingers slid back into auburn tresses, only to pull her head up, a quick kiss to a forehead. Whispered, soothing words, "Good girl." Before Vi dumped her to the floor, in a heap.

Watched her intently.
Wanted to soothe her.
Wouldn't.
She wasn't done.

"Tess, show me how wet that made you. Show me how much you enjoyed being in pain for me. Spread your legs, and show your Miss that you enjoy being used."

Vi's legs crossed. Nominally, as a show of power. The flip side was her own reaction. Squeezing thighs together. Her eyes never left the girl.

"Now."

 

[thestruggle]

Sometimes Tess felt bewildered by her cravings. They crept up on her, draped their arms around her neck, clucked softly into her ears. Occasionally she resisted them. Those times were a struggle, when Tess was held captive by her own proclivities. Then desire fizzled untapped, a steady purr, a deep well untouched.

This was not one of those instances.

“You're gorgeous, pet.”

It was like pulling a gas lever, a furnace stocked to the hilt. This appetite was not prevented, but fanned into being, pushed out. Tess took no pause to register embarrassment for the small, helpless noises she made: her breaths working in fits and starts. A blush glowed high on her cheeks and gave her a feverish cast.

“Oh! Oh,” as the mirror edge sliced into her, remembering that pain was often surprising but this time welcome, nearly welcome, so close was it to pleasure. An abiding sting diverging from that cut throughout the taut skin over her hip. A tear fell from her eye.

She'll use you up.

The thought moved like a flap of wings, some tattletale bird. Tess could not pay it heed. The Headmistress dabbled fingertips in the blood drawn at her torso and Tess was startled by a slick sensation--well, it's blood--and then those tender digits reached up to gloss her mouth with the liquid they had gathered. She was dazed. Tess could be as a doll: white limbs to pose, a red mouth to kiss or pout or smile, auburn hair to comb and smooth. Normally abhorring weakness, she clung to the Headmistress, feeling that she would slide to the ground if she did not. A brief respite as a smile was flashed down at her, and Tess returned it: not timidly but with an almost languorous air, so thick was the need around her.

Anything could happen.

And then her body was spun over, a hasty cry spiraling with her, “Hey!” Placed over knees, a familiar pose but its suddenness agitated her. She squirmed on the lap cradling her, not resisting so much as adjusting to the new position. The warmth from the body beneath her made Tess want to scream that it was her turn, that she would take her chances and rip the remains of the elegant suit from the Headmistress. You probably would ask first. No. No, she wouldn't. It was a relief to know that she wasn't a timid little toy, cowed beneath a masterful hand.

But it was close, right now.

Her head jerked up when Vivi traced the nail down her spine again. She shuddered. Her body was a tightly wound string. Tess had no prediction of when she would snap, only that she would, and the Headmistress would decide. Vague resentment nudged her, that prosaic hindrance to an easy yoke. It happened sometimes, this brat response, and mostly when she was bent over a knee. Tess squealed when the pinch came, trying to edge away. She had never felt such a pet as she did now, draped over thighs, naked and twisting.

A shadow flicked up, her eyes widened. Before the slap came she foresaw it, a split second before the contact, sting brief and then fading into hot red skin. Tess knew she ought to try and count, and so she did, panting in between each smack, “Oh! One, Miss. Two, Miss! Ah! Three...”

Yet she lagged behind, her ass crimson and tender from the blows raining down. Her voice was becoming hoarse. Oh, fuck. Swallowing, trying to continue, skin tingling from impact and longing: but satisfaction too. That bad girl lurking had been ducked easily, drowning in the greed that swamped Tess. And as Vivi's hand ceased, not flagged but stopped—for she could have kept going, Tess knew, felt it, feared it—her heart raced all the same. Fingers raked over that sensitive flesh and Tess sucked in a fast, seething breath through her teeth. Vivi seized her hair, and up her head came, with a gentle kiss placed on her brow.

“Good girl.”

At the utterance Tess moaned aloud, “Thank you, Miss.” By now she was so turned on that her legs quaked, and as Vivi's hands released her she saw their lengths shake minutely when she tumbled to the floor. Laying on her side, hair invading her eyes, breathing heavily. The Headmistress watched her. Tess returned the observation, through lowered eyelids. She knew she had better kneel. Tess ignored the thought.

"Tess, show me how wet that made you. Show me how much you enjoyed being in pain for me. Spread your legs, and show your Miss that you enjoy being used."

Those incredible legs crossed, and Tess slitted her eyes. Put on a show for your Headmistress.

“Now.”

In another circumstance she would have pushed it. Drawn it out. The Headmistress could sate the avidity she felt, the nagging ache for subservience. She would show her, better than now, when her body could take it. It was just too close now. The thought of being on display for the Headmistress was intoxicating; Tess adored things like that. Not an exhibitionist. Show-off? Maybe. She liked to please.

And so she took a moment to calm her breathing. She rolled on her back, brought her knees up. Her head was angled down, eyes glinting at the woman above her. Smiling, a brief coquette. Flirt. Her fingers traced down over her breasts and stomach, languidly moving, raising goosebumps in their wake. She paused at her navel, her fingers walking through the dip there. A giggle. Tess could already feel heat radiating up from between her thighs. Her pupils dilated.

Fingers walking, moving, skin changing. She edged her fingers down, and when they brushed against her clit she moaned. Her back arched, body as reactionary as a trip wire. Her fingers spread her cunt apart, the red of her nails glistening with the wetness there. Small and pretty, pink, and she slipped one index finger, middle finger, inside. The smile faded from Tess's face and she whimpered, feeling at once completed and yet dissatisfied. It was a comforting feeling: the end was in sight.

Not yet.

With a sigh, she pulled her fingers back out. They drew a shining line along her thigh before she raised them up to her mouth, sliding them into her mouth, watching the Headmistress. Her other hand kept playing, a palm pushing hard on her clit, her feet arching from the floor.

She grinned up at the Headmistress, playful somehow in spite of her rough lesson, a fingertip at her mouth. “Very wet, Miss. Mmm. What can I show you, Miss?”

Tess's eyes were almost black from lust, watching, waiting. She knew not to ask to cum. But she would. “Can I cum for you, Miss? Can I...” and she trailed off, feeling her fingers stretch inside her pussy again, reaching up, stroking. Panting she ceased, knowing better, knowing to wait, but her hand twitched to move. Her gaze hadn't shifted. “It's your cunt to use, Miss.”