School of Hard Knocks
by AP Miller
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 AP
Miller
Published by Strict Publishing International
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Prologue
Desiree Chambers leaned back in her chair, looking her delinquent charge over. Full, dark lips curled in a cruel sneer as she regarded her student. “So, Miss Wesley, would you care to explain yourself?” Long legs slid over each other, the smooth dark skin too silken and lovely to even consider bothering with pantyhose.
Miss Trudy Wesley bowed her head, her lovely eyes down cast with genuine shame. “I’m sorry, Headmistress Chambers,” she whimpered. And indeed, she truly seemed sorry, her years of conditioning having left the poor girl desperate to please her superiors. Her chest heaved with a heavy sigh, straining the buttons of her uniform blouse, and Chambers suppressed a moan of delight at the sight. Those uniforms, seemingly so innocent and pure, and yet so utterly depraved, yet another demonstration of her policy of hiding in plain sight before the fools who paid her money to do this to their daughters. “I was exhausted,” Trudy pled desperately, trying to excuse herself. “I wanted to obey, really...”
“Silence!” Chambers snapped, her eyes flashing. Nevertheless, Trudy managed to eloquently argue in favour of her justification without a word, simply by instantly obeying that command. A third year student, with two years already spent being carefully trained, Trudy Wesley had committed to graduating with honours. Her marks in every class were top notch, and Chambers could not deny her genuine pride in the girl.
But she was still one of the aristocracy, and Chambers hated her for it. She rose from her desk, moving slowly... languorously, taking her time like the predator she was. She walked around Trudy, and the girl remained in position, standing at attention, belly pulled in, chest thrust out, enhancing her beauty and desirability as she awaited her Headmistress’ displeasure. “Have you been working as hard as you can in all your classes, Miss Wesley?” Chambers purred softly, her tone deceptively quiet.
Miss Wesley was not fooled. The punishment would come regardless of her answer; she could only reply to the best of her abilities and hope for the best. “Yes, Headmistress. As hard as I possibly can, Headmistress. If there’s anything I can do better, I need only be told... gah!” Her words dissolved in a soft cry as the riding crop impacted her rear. Chambers did not even wait to see the reddening mark from the first stroke before striking her twice more, a vehement lashing of that lovely young bottom.
“All your classes include physical education, Miss Wesley!” Chambers snapped angrily, and then smacked the poor girl’s bottom yet again. Trudy whimpered and whined at those words, tears already starting to shimmer in her eyes, but made no protest. “You are expected to keep yourself in top physical condition at all times, is that understood?”
“Y-Yess, Headmistress Chambers...ah!” Trudy blubbered, and then jerked rigidly at another blow from the stinging crop. Chambers seemed to be truly enraged. Then again, the Headmistress always seemed to be holding in a barely contained rage at the world, and at the girls in the school in particular. No matter how harsh a teacher might be, the girls always feared the Headmistress more than any other.
“If you are tired from the workload expected of you, then you simply need to build up your endurance!” Again Chambers lashed at that rear. “Now! I think ten lashes ought to do it. Hands on the desk. You remember how this works.”
Trudy sobbed miserably even as she leaned over, her skirt lifting higher to show off that magnificent tush, so firm and rounded, as she whispered huskily. “Yes, Headmistress. Please, may I have another?”
And Chambers gave her exactly that, striking her directly. Trudy jerked, then whimpered, “S-seven, thank you Headmistress, may I have another... gah!” Chambers struck her once more, seeming truly incensed now.
“You’ll start with one, you little cunt!” Chambers snapped out, and then lashed out with her crop yet again. “Now... start from one!”
“P-please, Headmistress... may I have another?” Trudy blubbered, the tears sliding down her high, haughty cheeks. Chambers gave her just that, and after a sharp yelp Trudy jerked and shuddered, before whimpering, “One, Headmistress. May I have another? Ah! T-Two, Headmistress, may I... have... another? Guh!”
Again and again Chambers struck at Trudy’s poor rear as her student managed to gasp out the words of the sadomasochistic ritual until the final cry of, “Ahhh... uhh... t-ten... H-Headmistress... t-thank you... for teaching... this Slut... her place....” Trudy slumped over the desk, then groaned in pain as Chambers seized a hold of her long mane of hair, forcing her back to her feet, then backwards, making her look up into the eyes of the tall black woman.
“And that’s what you are, Miss Wesley,” Chambers whispered, gazing into those wide, tear filled eyes. “A Slut. Your purpose in life is to be... a Slut...” And then those full painted lips were pressed against the thin chap stick coated lips, the older woman kissing the younger with lustful intent. Miss Wesley trembled violently in her Headmistress’ arms, her body jerking as she began to orgasm, the mental and physical stimulation sending the poor little submissive over the edge.
At last Chambers pulled away, looking down at those lovely eyes shining up at her with undisguised adoration and worship. It never failed to amuse Chambers how these scions of nobility eventually came to choose loyalty to her and their school over even Queen and country. How she hated them all, even as she adored them. They were such lovely girls, but they were still the enemy. She caressed that lovely cheek, and Trudy smiled bravely, ready to do anything for Chambers. “Go back to class,” she whispered, then stepped back as the girl fairly skipped away, obeying that softly spoken command.
Chambers moved back to her desk, sitting down as she picked up the folder on her desk. Her smile sharpened, taking on a vicious edge as she looked over the papers for the newest class of young ladies looking to attend this prestigious finishing school. She flipped through page after page, until she finally saw the name. Her name. HIS name. His daughter.
“You son of a bitch,” she whispered softly, and those quiet tones carried with them such a murderous note for both the mother and son she cursed. “You’ll pay at last,” she vowed, and blinked at the sudden tears in her eyes. “You and your entire bloody family. You just wait and see. Wait, like I’ve been waiting all these years.”
She closed her eyes then, trying to stop the tears, to submerge the pain and grief beneath the anger and hate. Outside, the birds chirped a cheerful song, as beautiful young women dashed about, running laps under the watchful gaze of their gym instructor. Inside there was only silence, and a terrible intensity of vengeance waiting to be unleashed.
Chapter 1
The limousines pulled up to the front steps one by one, carrying their young charges to their new home for the next few years. Sitting there on the fine leather upholstery, Elizabeth shivered lightly from a chill, and from nervous anticipation. She had heard stories about finishing schools, and about the more conventional universities, and Grand Oak Academy for Women had established a reputation in the decade or so of its existence. Known for strict discipline and rigid standards, Grand Oak Academy was also renowned for the calibre of its attendees. Graduates from the finishing school and college had tended to quickly secure advantageous marriages to royalty across the continent and even beyond. One of her aunt’s daughters was now the bride of the crown prince of an Arab nation, having all but secured a generation’s supply of petroleum deposits for Queen and country. After that, mother had insisted Elizabeth attend as well, as soon as she had reached a suitable age.
The lovely young girl slid out from the seat as the chauffeur held the door open for her. She could feel his eyes on her, the man stiffly at attention as he tried to keep his ogling of the eighteen year old beauty as surreptitious as possible. She ignored it, and him, as best she could. He was beneath her, merely a servant. At another time, she might have enjoyed teasing him, or even getting him into trouble for his lust for the irresistible young lady, but at this time she was too nervous for such entertainment. She could see the man standing there at the entrance, tall and muscular as he glared down at the gathering throng of debutantes.
“My name is Jacques Wilhelm,” the man began, his eyes cold and stern as the girls gazed up at him, taking in the way his powerful body filled out the suit he wore. “I will be one of your teachers for the next four years. You will refer to me as Mister Wilhelm, and address me as Sir.” He paused a moment. “Is that clear?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then a scattered echo of, “Yes... Sir.” He held that glare, and for a moment Elizabeth feared mass punishment for not giving Mister Wilhelm a crisply synchronized response. But he turned away then, opening the doors and walking in. “Enter, and welcome to your new home.” His boots clacked lightly on the tiles of the hall as he led the way. “Follow me to the dining hall.”
Elizabeth could already feel her stomach beginning to gurgle. It had been a long day, packing, preparing, changing into her uniform and waiting for the limousine to arrive to take her to the academy. But she knew that food would be a time in coming, even as the girls found themselves being herded into the large room. Wilhelm focused on each girl in turn, making them stand in a long line before the tables, facing up at the long table reserved for the teachers. They sat there, looking down at the girls. They were mostly male, all of them strong and stern in appearance, cruelly handsome like hunting hawks or ravenous wolves. But none of them seemed as terrifying as the woman who stood up, looking down at them all.
She was tall, and fit despite her age, her curly black hair done up in a tight bun as she stood there in her suit. Elizabeth shivered, momentarily shocked at her appearance. Most of the others seemed to share her sentiments, having not expected a woman of African descent to be in charge of such a prestigious British institution, even one so recently formed as this one. “I am Headmistress Desiree Chambers,” she began, her voice crisp and cool in its haughty tones. Her accent was strictly of the upper class, as perfect as any of their mothers had ever displayed. “I am your Headmistress now. I am responsible for moulding you all into the finest examples of British noblewomen. You are all aware of our reputation, and of the lives our graduates go on to lead. For this reason, your parents have elected to send you here, at no small cost.” She paused, her eyes raking the room. “I expect you to justify that investment through hard work, and obedience.”
The girls all sat silent, uncertain of what to say or think, off balance and nervous in this strange new environment. Chambers continued without pause. “Our rules are simple. You will obey your teachers unconditionally. Failure to do so will result in... punishment. You will be at breakfast every morning at seven o’clock sharp, in uniform and ready for inspection. You will not consort during school hours. Socializing is reserved for weekends and holidays.”
Elizabeth watched the woman, as did everyone else. Those dark eyes swept across the line... then settled upon her. She flushed softly, feeling terrified and not understanding why. But the Headmistress addressed the entire group, even as she stared directly at her. “You will now be escorted to your place settings. There is to be no talking during meals for the first week, until you have shown your ability to dine like proper ladies.” She nodded perfunctorily, and the girls began to turn about, finding the men standing behind them.
Elizabeth blushed deeply at the sight before her. He was as muscular as the teachers, and yet utterly different. His face was gentle, kind... submissive. His chest and shoulders were bare; only leather pants and boots adorning his body, and he whispered softly. “This way, Misses. If you please.” He turned away, stepping towards the long tables, pointing to one side then to the other, naming each girl as he pointed out her place. “Elizabeth Feversham,” he murmured, pointing between two girls, and she quickly took her seat. She felt so hungry, and yet so nervous, her belly twisting into knots under the crisp cotton blouse.
The same shirtless and leather-clad man approached her again, along with several other cowed looking men in matching “uniforms”, pushing dining carts before them. Her nostrils flared at the scent of the Brown Windsor soup being set before her, the parsley floating lightly atop the thick buttery blend of beef, onions, and vegetables. The girls reached for their soupspoons as if in unison, soft fingertips cradling the slender silver stems as they began dipping the polished ladles into their bowls, then raising steaming portions to their lips. They understood table manners at least, blowing gently onto the spoons to cool them, and then politely sipping the soup from the side of the spoons without slurping.
Soon, enough spoons were clinking on the bottoms of the porcelain bowls, and again the dining carts approached. Endive, orange, and hazelnut salad, lightly gleaming with the yogurt dressing. Only a few of the girls had to look around to their companions before selecting the appropriate forks from those set before them, as they began delicately munching on the delicious assortment of fruits, nuts, and vegetables. Elizabeth felt a little better already with her belly no longer growling so badly. But there was still room for more, even though this drawn out meal left her feeling ultimately more sated.
And so it was that she was able to enjoy the roast lamb without appearing too ravenous, her dinner fork and dinner knife firmly in hand as she cut off and chewed tender, succulent morsels of seasoned young flesh. They continued to eat in silence, sipping from their water goblets or drinking the chilled red wine provided at each place setting, but never an offer of a refill of the wine, though the bare-chested men hovered about with pitchers of water as needed.
After all of that came the finishing touch: the dessert. But by this time her belly was comfortably filled, the bread pudding a mere topping off of the tank, and she set her dessert fork down before she had even taken the final bite. Next to her, the tall, fleshy girl smiled softly, as silent as the rest of them, giving her a reassuring glance through eyes that gleamed from beneath that mop of short, styled hair. Elizabeth smiled back, feeling much better after such a filling and tasty meal.
“You may put your utensils down now,” Headmistress Chambers called out, and everyone lowered their dessert forks in complete understanding that her polite words were as much a command as anything she might say. “Undergraduates, please look towards the girl to your left.” Elizabeth turned to face that larger girl, smiling shyly as the girl smiled more widely back, looking at Elizabeth with a somehow less than reassuring expression. Rather more knowing, and... predatory.
“This girl will be your new roommate,” Chambers informed them. “You are each assigned to one of the senior girls who will be responsible for your induction and welfare. You will in turn be expected to follow their instructions and guidance. This is a relationship built on trust, and in a few years you will bear a similar responsibility for the first year undergraduate who will come after you.” There was a moment of silence, and then Chambers announced simply, “Seniors, please escort your new roommates to their new rooms. You are all dismissed.” The girl stood up with the others, smiling softly at Elizabeth as she rose up to stand next to her.
Then it was out the door, slowly moving along as pairs of girls walked down the halls, older girls leading fresh-faced teens towards their new abodes for the coming year. Elizabeth found her hand being held in a firm, yet reassuring grasp, the large girl smiling at her as they walked along up the stairs to the second floor. “I’m Tiffany,” she whispered in a deep, soft voice.
“I’m Elizabeth,” she whispered back, shivering softly. Tiffany smiled gently at her, and then squeezed her hand once in a comforting pulse. It made Elizabeth grin, and they headed on to the room together in silence.
Chapter 2
It was hardly a large room, certainly smaller than her room at home. Then again, this was merely a dorm, a place to sleep and do her homework. There was a bed and a desk, and a bathroom through a door on the back wall, and nothing more. Tiffany stopped by the bed, turning to look at Elizabeth with that same sweet smile in that strong, attractively featured face of hers. “So how do you feel so far, Elizabeth?” she asked, looking at her.
“A little nervous,” the younger girl admitted ruefully, looking at the place. She could not help but wonder where her own bed was. “So, um, what do I do now?”
Tiffany grinned more broadly as she looked at Elizabeth. “Now? Now you go shower. We need to clean up before bed, right?”
“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth managed, blushing softly, “of course.” She turned to head into the bathroom, closing the door with one hand. Then she stepped backwards with a soft gasp as Tiffany pushed the door back open.
“No need to hide away, Liz,” Tiffany grinned at her, starting to loosen her tie with one hand. “We’re roommates. You’ll have to get used to us seeing each other bare assed naked, so you might as well do it now.” Her hands began to unbutton her blouse, slowly revealing the white bra beneath.
Elizabeth blushed more deeply, both at Tiffany’s actions and at her use of the diminutive nickname. But she began to undo her tie, having already had it drilled into her that Tiffany should be obeyed. She swallowed hard as she slipped her bra around, pulling the hooks to the front to more easily undo them, then looked up in time to see Tiffany’s own bra falling to the floor.
Her throat went dry at the sight. Tiffany’s cleavage was truly immense, almost legendary in sheer size. Yet so firm, like something out of an erotic artist’s most fevered sketches as the nipples hardened in the cool air. Those massive mounds gave way at the top to broad shoulders, sleek with dense musculature, her teeth bared as she grinned at Elizabeth’s reaction. “You like them?” she asked in a coy, teasing voice.
“I... they’re quite lovely,” Elizabeth managed, and then looked away hastily, pulling her skirt down as she kicked off her shoes. Her socks were next as she sat down on the toilet, muttering softly, “Would you mind turning on the shower for me, please?”
At last, she slipped into the shower stall, pulling the shower curtain closed for a moment of privacy. She sighed in relief as the increasingly naked Tiffany was obscured by the curtain, feeling shocked and uncomfortable by the lack of modesty shown. She reached for the soap, wanting to wash away the day’s stress.
Then the hand seized her wrist, Tiffany pushing past the curtain and joining her there in the shower. “It’s okay,” she whispered soothingly, smiling at the frightened girl. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to hurt you.” She stepped in fully, pressing against the terrified undergraduate, and before Elizabeth could say a word, their lips were pressed together, Tiffany kissing her so demandingly. The soap clattered noisily against the tiles of the shower stall, and Tiffany pulled away to grin in sudden mirth. “You shouldn’t drop the soap,” she snickered, looking into Elizabeth’s eyes as she joked, “You know what they say will happen to you.”
Elizabeth smiled nervously, sharing the amusement and hoping this would all turn out to be a joke and nothing more. But then Tiffany was kissing her again, those massive breasts rubbing against her own chest as powerful arms held her tightly, not letting her squirm free. A long, wet tongue pushed past her lips, forcing its way into her mouth, and Elizabeth moaned in shameful submission.
Elizabeth was dizzy when at last the older girl released her from that demanding kiss, light headed and leaning against the wall. “Remember, you have to do what I say,” Tiffany told her in a colder tone, harshly commanding. One hand slide down over Elizabeth’s side, gazing deeply into her eyes.
“But...” Elizabeth whined miserably, trembling in terror as she regarded her roommate. “They... they didn’t mean it like this...” Those fingers traced over her joining of thigh to hip, and she shivered at the sensation. Tiffany merely smirked coldly at those naïve words.
“This...” she purred softly, trailing her fingertips over Elizabeth’s belly now, “Is exactly what they meant. All the first years are getting this right now...” Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat at Tiffany’s shocking revelation, even as she continued remorseless, “I remember my first time as a first year. I’m going to make sure you have just as much fun as I did, Liz.”
Elizabeth whined desperately, shaking her head slightly as she whispered, “Please, don’t do this. I don’t want this. Please, you have to stop; you have to- guh!” Her frantic pleadings were cut off as the fingertips pushed into her silken petals, finding her virginal sex to be... moist. Elizabeth trembled as the larger girl teased her sex, slowly working a single finger into her unsullied pussy.
“I know how you feel, Liz,” Tiffany whispered as she slowly stroked those silken petals, “I cried when Megan took me the first time. But...” her lips brushed over that slim, pale throat as she pushed her finger more deeply into the poor girl’s virginal sex, “...I came so hard. It felt so good... and when I finally accepted how much Megan loved me, I wanted to make her feel just as good.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, trying to ignore that finger inside of her. “What...?” she gasped out, then tried again, “What... happened to Megan...?”
Tiffany pouted softly at the reminder, looking genuinely saddened. “She graduated. She’s engaged to a Duke now, I think,” she added, grudgingly admitting her pride in her friend. “She wrote me and said that she wants me to visit when I graduate. She wants to watch me with her husband.”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew as wide as saucers as she absorbed that last statement. “With... her husband!?” She shivered; gritting her teeth as Tiffany slightly hooked her finger, the tip brushing against... something. She wanted to ask about that, to protest, to say something, to say anything at all. But then it hit, something more potent than anything she had ever felt, and she was spasming, shaking in utter ecstasy.
Tiffany watched her, eyes locked together as Elizabeth continued to climax for her. Elizabeth whined, crying softly at the sensations, the orgasmic release more powerful than anything she had ever known during her previous masturbatory experiences. Her hips jerked lightly, her juices squirting over that finger... and then it was over. Tiffany was kissing her again, and this time she had no strength left to resist.
Now began more gentle caresses, those soft hands sliding over her sides as Tiffany gazed into her eyes. Lips pressed together, tender kisses now, soft, affectionate kisses such as friends might share, relaxing the poor, frightened girl as she took the soap in hand, starting to lather up that slender body. “Let’s get nice and clean, Liz,” she whispered, carefully washing her new friend, and Elizabeth remained still as she was bathed.
Elizabeth could not deny that it felt good, very good. Tiffany’s touch was surprisingly gentle, washing her as her nanny had so many years ago. She closed her eyes as the taller girl began to lather up the shampoo into her hair, and by the time the conditioner was rubbed into her rinsed hair she was smiling shyly, accepting the touch. “Now you get to do me,” Tiffany told her, pushing the bar of soap into her hand.
She had never pleasured anyone else before, given of herself to another. Yet, Elizabeth found herself enjoying it as she rubbed that smooth skin with her foamy hands. It was like petting a dog, and Tiffany seemed as appreciative, wriggling slightly and smiling as gentle hands slid over her massive cleavage. “You like them, Liz?” she asked, grinning at the girl.
Elizabeth blushed deeply, even as she continued to wash her new friend. “I... I guess so. They’re so big...” Her words faltered as she stroked those softly curving mounds, her thumbs gently tracing over those stiffened peaks. She knew from experience what it meant when her own nipples were so stiffly erect, and how it felt. For the life of her, she could not stop herself stroking the pads of her thumbs over Tiffany’s crinkled aureole, hearing the older girl gasp in surprised delight.
She felt... emboldened, by that soft cry. There was simply something about giving pleasure to another that made her feel strangely good inside, like a puppy being praised. She continued to gently rub those nipples, watching Tiffany moan and shudder, until the girl cried out softly. “Oh...you Slut,” Tiffany moaned. Elizabeth released her then, pulling away as she bit her lip. “No, don’t stop,” Tiffany pleaded, looking at her hungrily. Yet, Elizabeth drew back, tears in her eyes as she watched Tiffany warily.
Tiffany growled softly at that, looking into Elizabeth’s face with a decidedly aggressive expression. “One of the big rules around here is you can’t show fear, Liz,” she told the girl angrily, flush with aroused frustration. “No being scared. No being shy. We’re here to learn to be strong.”
“But...” Elizabeth whimpered, even as Tiffany’s strong hands gripped her wrists, pulling them back to her full breasts. Her thumbs resumed their stroking motions, afraid of displeasing the taller, larger, more aggressive girl any further than she already had, and Tiffany moaned approvingly. But finally, Tiffany released her wrists, only to shut off the water, reaching out to grab towels to share with poor Elizabeth.
Dry at last, clean, and tired after the entire ordeal, Elizabeth no longer had the strength to resist as Tiffany steered her to the one bed in the room. Under the covers they both slid, bodies pressed against each other. Tiffany’s lips brushed against Elizabeth’s cheek in a soft kiss as she hugged her close, and the undergraduate found herself hugging Tiffany back, too tired and drained to resist the lure of a warm body to cling to: any body at all.
Chapter 3
Consciousness returned with definite reluctance to young Elizabeth. She wriggled slightly, undulating in her slumber as she gradually remembered what bed she was sleeping in... and with whom. She jerked slightly, pulling her head back to look at the larger girl in her arms, but Tiffany pulled her back in, hugging her more tightly even in her sleep. Elizabeth began to tremble as the fear returned... and the shame.
She had been raped. She had been raped by a girl. And worst of all was the memory of how her parents, her grandmother, had enthused about this prestigious academy. She had known that initiation rituals were traditional at almost all British schools, had been since her primary school. It lent a horrible aspect to it, to think that her family would know that they were sending her to... this.
Tiffany began to stir, her hands pulling at Elizabeth, holding her close. It was almost a parody of a loving embrace, and it made her want to cry. Yet Tiffany merely wriggled against her, her eyelids slowly beginning to flutter open, those big brown eyes gazing at Elizabeth in a way that she could hardly call a parody of anything, as genuinely tender as it seemed. “...Hi,” Tiffany whispered softly, smiling almost shyly at the younger girl. Yet, her arms did not release her captive, and Elizabeth could not move.
“...Hi...” Elizabeth whispered back, lacking any other response. And then Tiffany’s lips were on her own, a soft, tender kiss, almost as she might have traded with girlfriends in the past... but with last night’s experience to cast a pallor over it, the embrace was less friendly and more... romantic?
Tiffany pulled away at last, beaming at the blushing girl in her arms as she suddenly announced, “We need to shower before we go eat.” She pulled away just as suddenly, sliding out of the bed... and just for a moment, Elizabeth felt oddly adrift, even abandoned. Nevertheless, she slid out from under those warm bed sheets, following her equally nude roommate to the bathroom.
The experience was almost a replay of the previous night’s bathing. Young Elizabeth found herself pinned against the wall as Tiffany’s hands roamed over her gentle curves, soap suds trailing in their wake as she carefully, lovingly washed her helpless… victim? Lover? Friend? Elizabeth herself could not be certain what it was; it certainly felt as good as it had last night. Then it was her own turn, and she dutifully scrubbed Tiffany’s back, her hair, washed her athletic body all over before pulling away slightly. She knew what was coming next...
“Okay, let’s get dressed,” Tiffany stated as one hand shut off the stream of water, the other reaching for her towel. Elizabeth blinked in surprise, not expecting the reprieve. She felt relieved. She stubbornly insisted on that point to herself. She was relieved not to have to undergo another sexual ordeal. Relieved. Not disappointed.
Out they went in their uniforms, the blouses and skirts hugging their bodies almost as if painted on. Grand Oak Academy charged a hefty fee for attendance, but that price covered everything from supposedly peerless academic tuition to dining worthy of girls of their station, to immaculately tailored clothing to wear. More girls began to follow them, or lead the way, slipping out of their rooms and turning out of adjoining hallways as they gathered in the dining hall.
After so much activity the previous night, Elizabeth found herself eagerly looking forward to her meal... and the scents were utterly exquisite. She found her place next to Tiffany’s, just as she had on the previous evening, and as they sat and waited, the bare-chested men began to pour their tea. The strong aroma of a proper breakfast blend wafted to her nostrils, and she had to bite her lip to keep from thanking the servant. She did not want to be punished. She wanted to eat.
As she stirred the sweetener and milk into her cup, she glanced left and right. The other undergraduates all seemed equally... muted. Tiffany had been telling the truth, if their somewhat sulky, pouty expressions or the satisfied and happy smirks on the seniors’ faces were any indication. And the teachers seemed utterly dismissive of what had clearly been going on under their noses, their silence lending an unquestionably permissive condoning of the activity.
And then the plates were set before them, a single large platter all at once. A Full English Breakfast, enough to make a few girls whimper softly, trying not to moan aloud at the feast before them. Tiffany’s fork had stabbed into a piece of crisp brown sausage in an instant, cutting off a bite with her knife as she dived right in. Elizabeth followed suit, a forkful of grilled tomatoes chewed delicately before she went for another. It was perfection, the tomatoes soft and yet still tart and flavourful. Next, she went for a piece of bacon, munching daintily as she glanced about. All about her, the girls were eating in silence, as were the teachers who sat together at the high table, setting an example with their own manners, silently devouring the fried mushrooms and tomatoes, savouring the bacon and sausage.
A sip of the hot sweetened tea washed down the last of Elizabeth’s mushrooms, and then she cut into one of her eggs. Yolk spread messily over her plate as she enjoyed the cooked whites, then reached for a piece of her toast to butter before wiping up the yoke in classic style. It was delicious... and as she sipped the last of her tea, using it to wash down the second slice of toast, Elizabeth felt amazingly content. Next to her, Tiffany gave her a smile, grinning as she silently conveyed her own appreciation of the meal... and Elizabeth found herself grinning back at her roommate.
At last, Headmistress Chambers’ voice filled the air, the stunning black woman rising to her feet to address them. “The servants will be passing out your class schedules now. The seniors’ schedules permit them to select elective courses, and should have already done so before the start of the autumn semester. First year undergraduates have been assigned a basic and comprehensive schedule to impart the education in which this academy prides itself. You will study hard and you will all excel. The grades you achieve will be your own, and are not merely a comparison to other students,” she added, her eyes glinting frostily as she informed them of this fact. “Only your own efforts and achievements will determine your grades. There is no excuse for failure in Grand Oak.”
She allowed a moment for that to sink in to the subdued young ladies, and then added a final bit of instruction, “After meals are concluded, you are permitted to ask the seniors for directions to and from your classes. You will find book bags beneath your chairs, containing all the textbooks you will be requiring for the semester. Do not lose them.” A final pause and then, “You are dismissed.”
Tiffany leaned over to look at the paper deposited before her roommate, whispering softly as the teachers began to file away. “Looks like you’ve got Mister Jaspers for chemistry, for your first class.” Her shoulder pressed against Elizabeth’s as she looked down the list.
“What’s he like?” Elizabeth could not help but ask.
“He’s... pretty rough,” Tiffany allowed, biting her lip thoughtfully, before adding, “But he’s a great teacher. You don’t get bored in class. Oh, and you’ve got Miss Devonshire for math. She’s nice. She doesn’t spank you unless you slack off in class.” Elizabeth gulped at that statement, realising the underlying implication that other teachers, like this Mister Jaspers, might spank more often than that.
Nevertheless, it was off to Mister Jaspers and Chemistry 101. The classroom was normal enough, chairs and long desks arrayed in a tiered format within a sloping room, making it easier to watch the teacher from even the back rows. Elizabeth found a seat and waited quietly, clutching the book bag to her as she reached in. The chemistry textbook proved to be a hefty tome, thick and large enough to be used as a bludgeoning instrument, and she set it down on the desk before her with a soft sigh.
The door to the teacher’s office opened, and then Jaspers emerged, letting the girls get a good look at him. His square, rough featured face glared at them in turn, his eyes cold as he stood there. Elizabeth found herself swallowing involuntarily, watching as the man’s stocky frame seemed to flex slightly, giving a hint to the powerful musculature under that well tailored suit, and then his voice resonated, deep and husky and commanding. “Open your textbooks to page five,” he began without preamble, not even bothering to introduce himself. He stepped up to his desk, looking out at the gaggle of girls sitting there with expressions like frightened lambs, waiting for book covers to be flipped open and pages turned.
“Today’s lesson shall be a review of standard chemistry knowledge, to assure that you are properly prepared to excel in my classroom,” he continued, his gaze sweeping the room. “Should any of you prove to be deficient, you may see me after class for additional instruction in private. Ignorance is forgivable and easily correctable.” He let that hang in the air for a beat, before his voice dropped several degrees, chilly and steely. “Lack of effort is not. If you do the work, you will learn. That is the arrangement you will have with all your teachers. You will work, we will teach. There are no naturally gifted chemists,” he added, leaning forward slightly, “Only those with the natural drive and bent to dedicate themselves to the study of molecular structure and all its permutations.”
He turned away then, stepping up to the black surface that dominated the entire wall behind him, only to reach for a remote control to an electronic device. An image swiftly appeared upon what proved itself to be a massive television screen, and Jaspers stepped away to hold up what appeared to be a pen. “All matter falls into one of three states,” he began his lecture, the pen shaped laser pointer spitting out its beam to leave a bright red dot upon the representation of a solid molecular state, “solid,” it then shot from the cubic pattern towards a more haphazard arrangement, “liquid,” and on to a few specks whizzing about, “gas. There is also the state of plasma, which will not be touched upon until the advanced classes. If you do not wish to understand the nature of stars and primal energies, these three states are all you need to know.”
Jaspers touched the remote’s button, and the view shifted to a representation of an atom. “All molecules, all atoms, consist of three primary particles. Electrons. Protons. And neutrons.” Another click of the button, and now they were looking at a video, representation of electrons flowing along a line of molecules, hopping from nucleus to nucleus like mad. “Electricity is the flow of electrons through molecule chains. Some substances are more conductive to electric flow, while others are more resistant.” As he explained this, the video shifted to an image of golden wire with energy crackling along for added effect, next to an image of a rubber wall deflecting an artificially generated lightning bolt within a laboratory setting.
Now the image was that of two small molecules, both easily represented by a single electron whizzing around a single proton, next to a much larger molecule with eight electrons in a mad dance about the nucleus. “Molecular bondings consist of electrons flowing between and being shared by several nuclei together,” and as Jaspers explained this, the molecules flowed together, until the electrons were dancing around all three particles to form, “Here we see dihydrogen monoxide. H20. Water. Hydrogen and oxygen, bonded through electron flow.”
And so it went, as Jaspers covered the nature of fire, and why different substances burned with different coloured flames, how temperatures changed and how heat transferred between substances as objects gradually took on the ambient temperature of their environment. Despite it all, Elizabeth did not feel bored, or even confused. Jaspers had a way of demanding attention from his students, and yet his explanations made the material clear in such a way that it was readily absorbed. She found herself wondering what future classes would bring... and then the bell rang, and it was time for the next class of the day.
Miss Devonshire’s classroom was practically a mirror replica of Jaspers’ room, complete with that same large black screen taking up an entire wall for the class to stare at. The girls all filed in, sitting down wherever they could, and Elizabeth pulled the appropriate textbook out moments before the door opened to admit a woman shorter than many of the girls... but moving with a confidence as if she were ten feet tall. Her high heeled shoes clacked along the floor as she stepped up to her desk, black skirt covering the naturally plump ass of a pear-shaped figure, a white blouse hugging what Elizabeth would have only the previous day derided as artificially large and firm breasts. But the piercing gaze on Devonshire’s face behind those glasses suggested it would be a very, very bad idea to treat her with anything less than the utmost respect.