2 comments/ 44066 views/ 3 favorites The Desk Ch. 02 By: fishophile [Note: This is a follow-up to "The Desk". Read that first if you haven't done so already.] 1 Chloe walked nervously up the garden path. It was a detached house on the edge of town, in one of the nicer suburbs. Despite the sunshine, she was glad of the long coat which kept away the breeze that whistled through the trees. And, of course, it also was glad that it covered up what she was wearing. ... The shop she had been told to go to was easy to find - less easy to park near, though - and was an old-fashioned clothing store. Not somewhere you'd just grab something off the rail, pay, and go: assistants clamoured round to fetch and carry, and to "help you decide". Chloe had whispered to one woman - smartly dressed and middle-aged, as they all were - about uniforms in adult sizes": the woman had nodded discreetly, then accompanied her through a door marked "Staff Only" to a storeroom around the back. She found herself amongst piles of uniforms - boys' and girls' - wrapped in cellophane. She nearly tripped over boxes of caps and berets. And, on one wall, she gasped as she saw a row of canes, tawses and paddles stacked neatly on separate shelves. The assistant measured her all over, then went searching through the stock. Eventually, she placed a pile of goods on top of some boxes: "Here's the basic outfit: dark green pinafore, matching belt, white long-sleeved blouse, beret, tie, long green socks. Is this what you were looking for?" "Umm... yes, I guess..." Chloe spluttered. "Would you like to try them on? I'm afraid we don't have a fitting room in this part of the store - but I'll make sure you're not disturbed." The assistant went over to the door and bolted it. "...erm... would you mind, ah...?" The assistant's tone took on a slightly more commanding air. "Come now, there's only the two of us here. Hurry up now!" Chloe reacted to her command instantly. She pulled off her boots and stripped off her jeans and T-shirt, leaving her in only her white bra and thong. "I think you'll need the regulation knickers with this outfit as well. Those ones won't go with it at all, will they now?" The assistant opened another box, and pulled out a pair of full elasticated nylon knickers, dark blue with green trim. To Chloe they looked uncomfortable and itchy. Yet she silently nodded, and pulled down and stepped out of her own white thong. The assistant crouched down, and held out the knickers in front of her knees. "Come on now, step into them." Chloe did as she was told. The assistant pulled the knickers up over her knees, up her thighs - they were tight as well as itchy! - and into place. She patted the side of Chloe's thigh in satisfaction. "A perfect fit." It didn't feel perfect to Chloe - she would have preferred a size bigger, maybe? As if reading her thoughts, the assistant continued; "They'll show off your bottom really nicely. Shall we try the rest of the outfit now?" Under the gaze of the assistant, Chloe pulled the socks up her calves; pushed herself into the blouse and buttoned it up; pulled the pinafore over her head and put her arms through; then wrapped the tie around her neck. She fumbled inexpertly with the knot; it had been many years since she had last had to wear one. The assistant intervened to tie it for her. "You'll have to practise this at home. If it's not done properly it ruins the whole look." Finally, Chloe pulled the beret onto her dark red hair. The assistant disappeared behind a rail of blazers, and wheeled out a full-length mirror. "I think you look rather fetching, don't you?" she smiled. Chloe gasped. It was like going back in time. Although the uniform was nothing like the one she had to wear for school - it had been traditional, but not this traditional - it was as if the teenager she once had been had stepped back out of the shadows. Take away the hair dye, and maybe... The assistant interrupted her thoughts. "Do you have suitable footwear? Black plimsolls or low heels?" Chloe nodded. "Very good. And the finishing touch..." She rummaged around in another box, then came in front of Chloe and pinned a badge to one of the straps running down from her shoulders. She stepped away and Chloe read the word "Prefect". "Unless, of course, such a privilege gets taken away from you for bad behaviour..." The assistant gave a giggle, then stood behind Chloe and put her hands on the younger woman's shoulders. "Do you think this will please whoever it is told you to buy this?" Chloe thought for a moment. "Yes... yes, I think it's what she had in mind." The assistant raised an eyebrow. "She?" Chloe could feel herself blushing. "No, don't worry, we cater for all tastes at Trimley's. You'll take them? Good. If you'd like to change back into your other clothing, I'll just add this up for you... " 2 And that outfit was what she had on now: minus the beret for the moment, and with the addition of the light brown raincoat and a pair of black kitten-heeled court shoes she'd bought years ago but never really worn. She'd wondered whether to add a little make-up, but decided that would be against the "rules". She hesitated for a moment. She'd had to drive around the area four times before eventually parking up just down the street, shouting at herself to pull her act together. Well, now it was inevitable. She came up to the door, found the bell, and pushed it. She looked around to see if anyone was around: finding nobody, she retrieved the beret from a pocket of the raincoat, and pulled it on her head. The door opened; Mrs Petrescu's head popped around it, and summoned her inside. "How nice to see you, Chloe; let me take your coat." The headmistress was dressed as severely as she ever was at school, in a white blouse, red and black tight tartan skirt, and black sandals. She hung Chloe's raincoat up on a hook. "My, Trimley's did you proud, didn't they? Twirl around, let me see you." Chloe pirouetted in a way she'd been taught long ago at ballet class. "Excellent! The shoes didn't come from there though, did they?" "No, Ma'am" replied Chloe meekly. "I already had these." "Won't you come on through to the sitting room? I'm sure you're feeling nervous, just as you were the other day in my study, but let me put you at your ease." They walked through into the sitting room, tastefully decorated and comfortably furnished, and the headmistress motioned for Chloe to sit on one end of the sofa. She did so, instinctively rearranging the skirt of her pinafore: when she sat down, it pulled up and exposed her knees and the top of her long socks. Mrs Petrescu sat on the other end of the sofa; "Would you like some tea, my dear?" "Yes, please, Ma'am." Some tea would help, she thought; her mouth was dry and she was surprised that she could still talk. The headmistress reached over to an occasional table; on it was a small silver handbell. She picked it up and jingled it. A door opened; and Chloe's jaw dropped. "Yes, Madam?" Another woman; perhaps in her early thirties, with bobbed brown hair. But also in uniform - a beige T-shirt which read "St Peter's Hockey XI", dark green pleated PE skirt, long dark green socks and black rubber-soled plimsolls. Chloe recognized the face; not to mention a body she had sometimes dreamt that she was entwining with... "Tea for all of us please, Angela. " "Very good, Madam." The pleated skirt bellowed as she turned and walked back to the kitchen. Chloe spluttered. "Wha... ah... wasn't..." Mrs Petrescu smiled at her. "Don't stammer, girl. Your recognize Miss Doyle, the gym mistress? She does look rather fetching in that outfit, doesn't she? She's become rather a regular Sunday visitor. You don't mind that she's here?" She looked at Chloe in a way which very firmly gave Chloe to understand that it didn't matter if she minded or not. "...No, not at all." "I must stress at this point that you are still covered by the form you signed in my office. I certainly would not want any details of this afternoon passed around the school. And yet... you asked to come here, you have arrived voluntarily: so I hope I am correct in my instinct that you are able to be trusted. Is this so, Chloe?" "Yes, of course, Ma'am" replied Chloe quickly. "Good. I see you have designated yourself as "Prefect". That's a high standard to live up to. Ah, here's the tea." Angela came in carrying a tray with a silver teapot and three china cups, and set it down on the table. "Milk and sugar, Chloe? ...Do sit down, Angela." The third woman sat in an armchair across the room. Her short skirt showed off much of her muscular, but still - to Chloe's eyes - attractive, thighs. "Milk, no sugar, please, Ma'am". Mrs Petrescu poured out the three cups, and handed Angela and Chloe theirs. With a pair of tongs, she delicately popped two lumps of sugar in her own cup, before picking it up and settling back on the sofa. "I take it you are free for the rest of the day, Chloe? No partner to return to?" Mrs Petrescu probed. "No, Ma'am, though I will have to go home and feed the cat later. I've been single for... nine months." "Before that? Boyfriend, girlfriend?" The headmistress sipped her tea silently. Chloe felt herself blush slightly again. "Boyfriend for three years. I haven't had a girlfriend since University." "Tell me about her." She shifted about in her seat; she had to take a sip of tea to regain her calm for a second and clear her throat. "My roommate, Nila: she came over to study from India. One night she said she couldn't sleep - she was used to sharing a bed back home, and would I mind letting her in mine? And once she was in... and she started touching me..." Chloe's voice trailed off. Mrs Petrescu broke the silence. "Yes, Chloe? Continue." "...I'd not been touched there by a woman before, only a boy back in school. She seemed so in control - she showed me what to do, how to... 'pleasure her', as she called it." "And you shared beds from then on?" "She graduated and returned to India six months later. I cried, a lot... and we promised to keep in touch, but never did." Chloe's eyes gazed off into the distance. "A shame. But I see by your demeanour that the memory still excites you... do you masturbate when you think about her?" Chloe visibly jumped, spilling some tea into the saucer underneath her cup. "Put the cup down now, I don't want any stains on my furniture. If you tell me 'No', I shall know you are lying to me." "...Yes, Ma'am. I often think about her when I'm.... I'm..." "Masturbating. Don't go coy on me! You have toys?" "Masturbating. I have a small pink vibrator." "When did you last use it?" Chloe's eyes became even more sheepish. "Last night. I was... I was looking forward to today, wondering what it would be like." "Heavens, you mean you had me in mind whilst performing the action? How disgusting!" "I'm sorry, Ma'am." Mrs Petrescu made a silent signal to Angela, who got up and left the room. "You realize that such outrageous behaviour cannot go unpunished." The room fell in silence, save for the ticking of a clock above the fireplace. "Well?" "Yes, Ma'am. I... I need punishment." "Before you left my office the other day, you made a promise to improve your behaviour. It seems that you have broken that promise." "I'm sorry, Ma'am." "No, you silly girl. You didn't promise me." She pointed at her feet. "You promised THEM. Remove your beret, and get onto your knees." Chloe did as she was told. At least the carpet in the sitting room was easier on her knees than the one in the headmistress' office. And now, she was going to have to... again... "Apologise to them." She bent herself forward onto all fours. She noticed that this time Mrs Petrescu's toes, nails immaculately polished in a deep pink, weren't encased in nylon; she'd get the full taste. Sheepishly, she said "I apologize to you for breaking my promise"; then pressed her head down to place her lips on top of the toes. First the left foot for several seconds; then the right for the same time. She was getting used to the taste. "Continue there. Worship!" ordered the headmistress. Chloe kept on kissing around the feet and shoes; trying to cover as much of them as she could; alternating between left and right, trying to give each equal time. She felt her pussy tingle for the first time; on all fours like this, the tight knickers really pressed against her lips, plus... "Look at you, you're enjoying yourself, you slut!" She admitted to herself that she was. Her face was now approaching the headmistress' ankle: she stuck out her tongue towards Mrs Petrescu's right stiletto heel, and gently brushed the tip against it. It felt cold, but strangely tasty to her. Mrs Petrescu raised her foot, and Chloe twisted herself so she could take the tip of the heel in her mouth, and suck on it gently. She felt the headmistress press her foot down; within seconds she was flat on the floor, face upwards with her hands by her sides, with the whole three inches of the heel past her lips. "Pull your skirt up" commanded Mrs Petrescu: as she sucked, Chloe reached down and pulled the hem of her pinafore up to her hips, exposing the tight blue nylon of her knickers. "I approve of your choice of underwear; much more appropriate than last time." "Tha' u' Ma'a'." garbled Chloe past the heel. "Other foot now!" The headmistress pulled her foot away, then replaced it with her left: but instead of pointing the heel towards Chloe's mouth, she hovered the sole within reach of her tongue. "Lick!" Chloe paused: she didn't know where this shoe had been, or what it had been stepped into. "LICK, I said!" repeated Mrs Petrescu. Chloe stuck her tongue out as far as it would go, and with sweeping movements licked up and down the sole. She couldn't taste anything but the leather, but surely it was dirty... such a dirty thing to do... there was that tingle again... She heard a door open, and Angela's voice: "Everything is ready, Madam." Mrs Petrescu pulled her foot away from Chloe's face. "Very good." Now Chloe could see that Angela's eyes were fixed on her crotch. "Get up, girl: we must go upstairs". Chloe pulled herself up from the floor, and brushed the skirt of her pinafore down. Her eyes stayed downwards: no way could she look into either the headmistress' or the gym mistress' eyes. "No, hold it back up around yourself." She gathered the material up around her waist as Mrs Petrescu took hold of her arm and gently pulled her out of the sitting room. 3 Angela opened the door: Mrs Petrescu guided Chloe through into the room. It was bare, with whitewashed walls: only a pair of light blue curtains over the window gave the room any sense of furnishing. Except of course for the sight of the large mahogany desk in the centre of the room, which made Chloe let out a small squeak. It wasn't a copy of the one in the headmistress' office, but to Chloe it looked pretty close, with a similar grey swivel chair behind it. Mrs Petrescu strode over, sat on the chair, and pulled herself into the desk. Angela pulled on Chloe's arm to line up in front: Angela had also now bunched up her skirt around her waist, showing off that she, too, was wearing the standard blue knickers. Chloe noticed that this desk was open at the front; she could see Mrs Petrescu's crossed legs, and her feet that she had just... "Girls!" The headmistress interrupted her train of thought. "I am pleased with your standards of dress, and of your attitude so far today. However, discipline must be maintained if you are to continue in this vein. I trust you agree?" "Yes, Madam" said Angela quickly. Chloe swallowed, then joined in. "Yes, Ma'am." "Chloe, your masturbatory behaviour disappoints me. Such things are a privilege, to be earned, rather than taken for granted. You have forfeited the right to be a Prefect. Hand me your badge." "But, Ma'am..." "Don't Ma'am me, just do it!" Chloe dropped the pinafore around her legs, and reached up to unpin the badge. Mrs Petrescu held out her hand and waited as Chloe clumsily fiddled with the fixing, then handed it over. It went straight into a drawer. "Now, for your admission of masturbation without permission, you will receive the due punishment. Take your pinafore off and drop your knickers." Nervously, Chloe complied. She folded the pinafore neatly and put it over by the wall; then slid a thumb either side of her knickers and pulled them down to her knees, feeling the relief of not having her bottom restricted by the tightness. She went to lean forward towards the desk; "No, Chloe, remain standing for now." She stood back up and placed her hands on top of her head. She noticed she was trembling slightly. "Angela: would you check her?" "Yes, Madam." Angela moved behind Chloe; then suddenly she felt the gym mistress' cold fingers rubbing her pussy lips; then the rustle of Angela's uniform as she bent down, put her nose to Chloe's knickers, and inhaled deeply. "To me." Mrs Petrescu motioned to Angela to stand up and present to her the fingers that had trailed along Chloe's lips; the headmistress also inhaled deeply. "A pleasing perfume, Chloe. Your excitement is evident. But we shall see how much you enjoy this." She opened a drawer, and placed on the desk what looked to Chloe like a black leather table-tennis bat. Chloe swallowed with a shiver again as Angela picked the paddle up and moved behind her. "Lean forward, Chloe. As with the other day, you will count each hit." Chloe waddled forward to the desk, and leaned herself over it again. She gripped the lip on the other side, tensed her bottom muscles, and waited for the inevitable... WHACK! "AH! One!" Not quite as bad as the other day, but still... "That's 'One, Miss Angela'." interrupted the headmistress. "Start from the beginning again." WHACK! "One! ..Miss Angela." Really two, she thought, but... WHACK! "AHHH! Two, Miss Angela!" That one was even fiercer than the tawse the other day! Obviously Angela was no stranger to giving out... WHACK! "Three! Miss Angela, please, no!" "No mercy, Angela. Continue." WHACK! "Four, Miss Angela!" Would it be four strokes, like she had bef... WHACK! "Ah! Five... Miss Angela" Obviously not! She could feel tears in the corners of her eyes. How many more? WHACK! That one was the hardest yet! "AHHH! Six, Miss Angela! Please, that hurt!" "Enough, Angela" interrupted Mrs Petrescu. "If you could check again for me?" Chloe sobbed as she felt Angela's fingers run around her pussy; only this time they probed inbetween her lips as well. "Wet, Madam" Angela reported. Yes, Chloe had to admit, she was becoming wetter all the time... "Knickers back up, and stand up, Chloe." She complied, putting her hands back on her head. The tight fabric only made her bottom throb even more; which only made her pussy throb even more... Mrs Petrescu's attention shifted to Angela. "Your technique is improving, I see. Maybe next time I can let you loose with the cane. Yet still you have much to learn: your stance, for example, was very poor, which meant you did not have the correct angle for maximum force." The headmistress stood up. "I shall demonstrate. Knickers down!" Angela pulled her knickers down to her knees as Mrs Petrescu walked around behind her. She was carrying the same tawse she had used on Chloe the other day. Roughly she pushed Angela forward onto the desk; Chloe saw how the short pleats of her skirt framed her bottom, and her eyes centred in on the dark wiry hairs of Angela's pussy... "Move round here, Chloe, you'll get a much better view." Chloe blushed; the headmistress seemed to be reading her thoughts again. Still with hands on head, she walked round so she was directly behind Angela. The headmistress raised her arm, then with a broad sweep... The Desk Ch. 02 WHACK! "One, Madam, thank you." whimpered Angela. WHACK! "Two, Madam, thank you." Chloe could see Angela's bottom already turning pink. WHACK! Angela's right leg kicked backwards in reflex "Three, Madam, th.. thank you!." WHACK! "Four, Madam, thank you." The stripes on her skin were becoming more red now. WHACK! "Five, Madam!" shrieked Angela as she took the extra-hard hit. "thank...Thank you!" WHACK! "Six, Madam, thank you." The headmistress threw the tawse on the floor, and came to grab Chloe by the hair just above the back of her neck. "Ah!" gasped Chloe. She was pushed down onto her knees behind Angela, and her face was forced towards the gym mistress'... "Lick!" was Mrs Petrescu's command. Chloe took a deep breath, then pushed her nose and mouth into Angela's pussy. The hairs tickled her face and the wetness filled her nostrils. She'd dreamt of doing this, many nights ago when she first took her job, when she first saw the gym mistress leading a group of girls jogging around the building. And now she had her opportunity, and she wasn't going to waste it. She got her lips and mouth working, in the way Nila had taught her long ago... Around the other side of the desk Angela softly moaned. Mrs Petrescu walked round, and hitched up her skirt: underneath she had the same tight nylon knickers on as the other two. She placed one foot up on the desk, and thrust her crotch towards Angela's face, burying the gym mistress in the nylon. Chloe reached up and put an arm around Angela's hips, so she could draw herself deeper into the pussy she was devouring. It had all come back to her; the way she had been taught to eat a woman, to pleasure a pussy... The other hand went up to Angela's clit, so she could strum it as she sucked all around the hole. It was very wet, very hot, and Chloe knew that Angela wouldn't take long before cumming. "May I cum, Madam's knickers?" Angela moaned inbetween her devout worship of the headmistress. "You may." Chloe felt it build up inside Angela; she knew what was coming, and she was determined to drink it down: she quickened her pace as Angela's thigh muscles flexed and a foot kicked back onto Chloe's thigh... and suddenly: "Aaaah!" Angela's head shot up as she came; Chloe tried to lick up as much as she possibly could, but felt the gush all over her face and chin. She heard Mrs Petrescu walk round, then felt herself being grasped by the scruff of the neck again. This time her head was pulled upwards, as the headmistress leant over to lick and vacuum up Angela's juice from her face; then force her mouth on Chloe's and her tongue inside in a long, breathless kiss. Chloe gasped for air as Mrs Petrescu broke away. "It seems your University friend taught you well, judging by Angela's reaction. Though perhaps I ought to find out for myself." Chloe felt the headmistress let go; she slumped to the floor to regain her breath. "Angela, get up and prepare me." Angela groggily pulled herself up from the desk, knelt behind the headmistress, and pulled her knickers down her legs. "You may use these." "Thank you, Madam." Angela let her step out of the knickers, then brought them up to her face: Angela's tongue disappeared in the gusset, and one hand reached down to fiddle with her clit as she tasted the headmistress' juices. Mrs Petrescu walked back to sit behind the desk and reached inside another drawer. "Chloe! Crawl here!" Chloe pulled herself up to all fours and under the desk. The headmistress' legs were open and she was perched on the edge of the seat: Chloe knew what she had to do. She pushed her face inbetween the thighs and started working on Mrs Petrescu just as she had done for Angela: hot, wet, with a slight scent of vanilla. After a few seconds exploring with her tongue, she felt something press on the side of her face: she reached one hand up, and something long, round and slippery was pushed into her hand. She guessed what it would be. She shifted slightly to one side - she could just about make out the colour of the black dildo - and aimed it onto Mrs Petrescu's hole. She bent her head forward for the clit as she pushed the dildo in, and started to work it around and in and out. She heard Angela move about behind her; then her knickers being tugged down to her knees again. She felt lips on her bottom; the sensation of saliva on top of the warm tingle she still had from her paddling. She felt fingers work around her pussy lips, and up to her clit. She would need to cum soon. If she was allowed to. "Chloe!" she heard Mrs Petrescu gasp above. "Good! More!" She quickened her pace with the dildo, bringing her other hand up to work around the headmistress' pussy, and tickle her perenium. Another trick Nila had taught her... Suddenly with a SLAP! Angela whacked her hand onto Chloe's bottom: Chloe's shriek was muffled by the desk and the headmistress' skin. "A little encouragement", she heard Angela say before resuming her work on Chloe's pussy. The thought that the gym mistress was going to make her cum spurred her on as she continued between Mrs Petrescu's thighs, which were pushing open and closed around her hands. Then she felt Angela's hair brush on her bottom; and something run down the crack. Was that Angela's tongue? Was it really going to go in...? "Yes!" she gasped as Angela pushed her tongue around Chloe's arsehole: how dirty! how wrong! how... "Permission!" ordered Mrs Petrescu breathlessly. Chloe raised her head slightly. "Pl... please, Ma'am..." She knew she couldn't hold out much longer. "...please what?" The headmistress' voice was lower, huskier now. "PLEASE!! May I cum... Ma'am?" A low moan escaped her throat. "Angela! Knickers!" shouted the headmistress. Chloe felt her knickers roughly pulled back up and around her hips: the gusset cut into her as Angela continued dancing her fingers over the nylon and kissing around her bottom cheeks: and now she could feel it... "AHH! ANGELA!! MA'AM!!!" She pushed back, and felt herself gush into her knickers: at the same time Mrs Petrescu's thighs clenched tightly together, trapping Chloe's hand around the dildo, and a shriek from the headmistress' lips as she, too, came. Chloe rested her head on Mrs Petrescu's thighs, panting and heart pounding. She felt Angela pull her knickers down again, and over her legs and away: she craned her neck round and saw the gym mistress bury her face in the nylon, smearing Chloe's cum all over her and licking up the last drops from the material. "Good work, Chloe", she heard the headmistress croak. "You make an excellent pupil... maybe in time you may earn your badge back..." 4 "Angela will see you out" said Mrs Petrescu as she helped Chloe into her raincoat. Chloe was now fully dressed again: every time she moved, she felt the dampness of the gusset of her knickers - alongside the bruises on her bottom. "Put your beret on! You must be proud of your uniform!" She carefully pushed it on top of her head, as Mrs Petrescu stood smiling, admiring her dress. The headmistress kissed her on the cheek, hugged her lightly, then disappeared into the sitting room. Chloe and Angela walked gingerly to the front door; both were still hurting from the punishment they had received, both before and after their orgasm. Angela reached out and hugged Chloe, the two women entwining in a long kiss. "'I've still got my weekly chores to finish before I go" whispered Angela. "I come here every Sunday - I hope you will too." "Of course I will. Especially if you are here." Angela opened the door; Chloe saw it was raining, and steeled herself to run to the car: she didn't want to get her beret wet. She craned her neck round to Angela. "You want to meet for lunch tomorrow?" Angela's face broke into a grin. "Sure. By the gym, twelve-thirty?" "See you there". Chloe's kitten-heels clicked down the path as she ran into the rain. She felt she could almost sing... The Desk Ch. 03 Chapter 03: Before The Desk [sequel to "the desk" and "under the desk"] 1 Sunday evening was special in this house. They both knew it was "their" time, especially set aside: hang the telly, hang the dishes, hang the laundry - this was important. Chloe cuddled up to Angela in the soft, pink cotton-covered duvet; and thought to herself how she had never been happier. She had it all: a burgeoning career in IT site management; a pretty semi-detached in town, with the mortgage taking care of itself; a new car outside on the gravel; and most of all, a partner she loved. Angela put out an arm to stroke Chloe's dark red hair as they kissed. Added to all that, she'd also found a new side to excitement that she'd not known before. They'd started the evening rubbing skin cream into each other's bottoms: Sunday evening was so special, because Sunday afternoons was when they both submitted themselves for punishment. They'd grown used to laying side-by-side, whilst they waited for the pain and bruising to fade down. This was a time to enjoy each other; to love, after the punishment. The headmistress at the school they both were employed at, Mrs Petrescu - also the instigator of their Sunday afternoons spent bent over a desk receiving cane, stroke and paddle - had been delighted when she'd found out that her protégées had become a couple, and that Angela was moving in with Chloe. "Congratulations!" she'd told them in her office, on the wet Friday morning they told her. "But of course I hope this doesn't mean that you'll no longer be 'socializing' with me..." "Of course not, Madam" said Angela quietly, so nobody outside could hear her use the word she called the headmistress during 'punishment'. "We hoped you'd approve and let us continue serving you." "Excellent. A little advice to you two, though: keep it discreet - at least at school, or you'll never hear the end of it. Despite all we do, children can still be so cruel. And more importantly, punishment is my privilege - I don't want either of you thinking you can be the 'top' in your relationship. Understood?" "Yes, Ma'am." "Yes, Madam." "Good. Dismissed! I'll see you as usual at one o'clock sharp..." Both of them knew that they could never stop going to see the headmistress - the weekly ritual was a release, a focus for energy: when Mrs Petrescu had gone away for a fortnight in Prague - alone, despite the rumours throughout the school that she had some Czech toyboy waiting for her [there were many puerile jokes about "check-ups"] - they both noticed how agitated they were at missing their session. They had growled at each other like feral cats, argued over a stupid television programme; Angela had even spent one night at her mother's in Biggleswade whilst she sulked over who had first rights on one pair of boots. That went on for a fortnight until the headmistress' return: they had confessed their grouchiness, and were punished extra hard for their transgressions; that night they were the perfect lovers again. And now, it had been six months since Chloe's shock at seeing Angela servile, dressed in school's gym kit, serving tea at Mrs Petrescu's. A whirlwind time, yes: but a happy one. "You remember the first day at Ma'am's?" she breathed to Angela. Recounting and revisiting their punishments was a frequent precursor to making love: nothing excited either of them as much as telling each other how they looked with their knickers down and a tawse across their bottom, or how much they'd enjoyed watching each other take turns to pleasure the headmistress in whatever fashion was demanded. Andrea giggled. "I still can't believe your face when I walked in... I knew you'd be surprised, but you nearly jumped off the sofa!" "And with good reason. How was I to know you'd be standing there in that little pleated skirt?" "I hoped you'd like me. I'd seen the glances you'd given me around school. Not to mention the ones you were giving me once I'd sat down and it rode up!" "I didn't know where to put my eyes! If I'd leered, maybe Ma'am would have given me even more punishment..." They kissed again: Angela's hands slowly danced and stroked her way down Chloe's torso. "Oh, I remember now!" Angela said as she broke off the kiss. "I meant to ask you... who was, umm, Nila?" "Nila? Did I mention her?" "Yes, when Madam asked you if you'd had a girlfriend... when you said 'yes' I felt like running round the room cheering!" Chloe shifted herself slightly: the bruises of the afternoon were wearing off now. "Nila... well...." 2 Chloe hailed the taxi through the relentless drizzle, and hauled her suitcase and rucksack into the trunk. She dived into the car and fished around her pockets for a piece of paper: she read off it the words "133, Sherburn Road" and the car pulled out of the railway station and into the traffic. This was very much a different Chloe: only nineteen, she'd been a little plumper, and her hair was still down beyond her shoulders then, and in its natural dark blonde - but the world was her oyster. She'd come to this proud Northern city to read English Literature at the university: the morning she'd got her acceptance letter, she'd whooped with delight and ran around the house, waking up her parents and little sister. It had been confirmation that Chloe was Going Places. And then a whirlwind of loan applications, part-time job applications, and hunting for digs. An advert in the previous year's Rag Week Magazine had put her in touch with an agency in the city; houseshare with three others, all students: only ten minutes' walk from campus. She'd accepted after only seeing two photos: the narrow three-storey townhouse, painted pink and looking neatly cared for, appealed to her. She'd only been to this city once, in a family holiday many years ago. She'd remembered the tall stone Victorian buildings she was passing: she'd not remembered that many chip shops. And nor, she reflected, had she remembered the weather up in this part of the country... The driver interrupted her thoughts. "133 - I think it's just up here on the left. You want a hand with that luggage?" "Yes, please." The car drew up to the kerb: despite the rain, number 133 looked exactly like in the photo. She leapt out to go knock on the door as the driver struggled with her suitcase and rucksack. A short, plump woman, dressed and made-up in gothic style opened the door: "Yes?" "Hi... I'm Chloe?" "Hey, great! Come on in!" Chloe was ushered inside, followed by the driver, muttering to himself about bloody students... 3 The gothic woman placed a cup of coffee in front of Chloe at the kitchen table. Chloe had learnt that her name was Tammy, and that much work had been required to find two clean mugs, but otherwise she was none the wiser. Tammy poured out her own coffee and joined Chloe. "Let's get this down our necks, then I can give you the guided tour. What of it there is, anyway." She took a sip of her steaming black coffee. "So, let me get the welcome bit out of the way. Hello, I'm Tamara, known as Tammy. Originally from Aylesbury, now in my second year of Psychology. I'm in the Pagan Society, and at night you'll find me in the Kali club in town. That's where us goths and weirdos hang out. Ummm... I'm here with my boyfriend, Newt..." "Newt?" "His surname's Newton - and he's always pissed as a newt. We have the second floor room. You'll be up on the third alongside Nila. Don't worry, she's pretty quiet. You may get some noise from underneath though - it's not the best house for sound-proofing." She took another sip of coffee. "You?" "Oh. Chloe Porter. Came up from Gloucester: here to read English Lit. Ummm... single: no religion: but I'm a Cancer, if that counts. I'm not sure I'm either a goth or a weirdo..." She giggled nervously. "...Yet." Tammy smiled at her, before taking a mouthful of coffee. "...Tori Amos is more my sort of thing." Tammy raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Cool." She emptied her mug. "Come on, let's have a look around the joint." 4 She sat on the bed, slowly scanning the room, trying to take in the enormity of the day. This morning, she'd been in her bedroom at home: the same one for fifteen years, full of her own life, her own possessions, her own decorations. And now: she had to make this... this tiny little room home. She reached down to her rucksack. The first thing she pulled out was a little battery radio: she flicked a switch, twiddled the tuning: a tinny voice, with an accent somewhere between Northern England and California: "And it's a big big evening here on City FM tonight, with the big big sounds just for you.." and the beat of an anonymous pop record. It wasn't much, but at least it almost cut out the sounds from below: Newt and Tammy were obviously fucking. Either that or they were trampolining whilst he asked her lots of questions, judging by her cries of "Yes! Yes! Yes!". She set to work unpacking, unfolding, methodically arranging; trying to make it a little more like home. She resolved to go shopping the next morning, at least to replace the cheap polyester bedding if nothing else. From one case she pulled out a small teddy bear: light blue, but obviously faded through age. She tucked 'him' - Mr. Cuddles - into the bed and patted him softly with a smile. There was a soft knock at the door. She almost didn't hear it above the radio and the continued banging from beneath. "Hello?" she called. The door opened. Chloe always remembered that exact moment; the short woman, with flawless golden-brown skin and black, dead-straight hair that cascaded over her shoulders and halfway down her torso. She was dressed casually, in a pink and grey sports sweatshirt and blue jeans. In the half-light of the doorway, she seemed to almost shine. "Hello, Chloe". The voice had a strong South Asian edge to it, making it almost melodious. "I just thought I would drop by and welcome you in. My name is Nila." "Hi! Come on in!" Chloe smiled. Nila closed the door quietly behind her and sat on the edge of the bed as Chloe continued unpacking. "I have the room next to yours..." "Yeah, Tammy told me." "...ah, you have already met her. She is pretty difficult to ignore!" "You're telling me. Does this go on all night?" "No, it'll end soon. Then they will either have a big row or go to sleep. You will get used to it." "If you say so. I'll be going into town to buy earplugs tomorrow anyway." "Ah! May I show you around? You will get lost in the city otherwise." Chloe stopped her tidying for a moment to smile at her. "That'd be great. How about lunch, too?" "Thank you. I will show you the cheap places to eat." Nila rose from the bed, took one of Chloe's hands, and squeezed it inbetween hers. "I had better leave you to settle in. Please knock when you are ready tomorrow." And then she was gone, leaving Chloe smiling at herself, happy that it looked like she'd made at least one friend. The banging stopped. The shouting started. 5 Orange sodium light streamed through the thin curtains, giving Chloe's desk an unearthly glow. She stared at it as she lay there, Mr. Cuddles under one arm, waiting for sleep to envelop her. It was now three nights she'd been here, and in all of them she'd hardly had a wink of sleep: in the rural village she'd grown up in, neither lampposts nor night-time traffic had been around to disturb her. She'd been warned to expect homesickness at first: that she would lay awake, maybe even cry. As someone who'd always slept like a log, the reality of it shocked her. She thought of the people she'd met so far. Tammy, of course: also Newt, who true to his name had been as drunk as one. Then there was Simon, Newt's pal, who'd seemed to be very interested in Chloe: utterly ridiculous, he was totally unfanciable if he took as few baths as he looked like he did. But at least there was Nila... Nila had insisted on taking Chloe to a vegetarian cafe in the middle of the city. She'd told her of how she was on a student exchange from Hyderabad, and how much she was enjoying England. To Chloe, whose only experience of foreign travel was a fortnight in Torremolinos with the family every year, Nila's background sounded dreamy and exotic. She thought through some of what Nila had said. She was a political science student, dedicated to "raising consciousness" amongst the women back home, who she said were treated as second-class citizens. And Chloe had thought things were bad in Gloucestershire... there she'd been chased by every local lad in the village, and had fended them off with a mix of shouting and the basic karate she'd been taught in self-defence: but at least she'd had the opportunity to get out, to do something better. A soft knock came from the door, followed by a hissed "Chloe!". She recognized the voice: she switched on her bedside lamp, and gingerly skipped across the cold floor to let Nila in. "I'm sorry," Nila whispered, "I had a nightmare." She sat on the edge of the bed, her blue pyjamas bright under her robe. "May I sleep with you?" Chloe was taken aback. "er... what?" "At home, my two sisters and I share a bed. I have been finding it very difficult to sleep alone. I know this may be strange to you, but..." Her brown eyes stared straight into Chloe's. "Oh... um, sure!" Nila stood up to take off her robe and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. She kicked off her slippers, and climbed into the far side of the bed, leaving a space which she patted to signal to a still confused Chloe to come and occupy. As Chloe climbed in, Nila was admiring Chloe's bear: "oh, he is delightful! What is his name?" Chloe blushed slightly, thinking that a nineteen-year-old woman shouldn't still have such things. "Mr Cuddles." "May we share him?" Chloe switched the light off. The two women ended up on their sides face to face in the bed, the bear separating them. Both had reached an arm out to the bear: their forearms touched from wrist to elbow. Chloe could feel the soft warm air of Nila's breath on her. "Goodnight, Chloe" whispered Nila. "Goodnight." Chloe shut her eyes and waited for sleep again. The next thing she knew, she felt a weight on her hip. Nila's arm had unfolded itself, and the hand rested on her pelvis. She tensed up: touching arms was one thing: this was quite another. She'd not been touched there since that boy at the village bus shelter had... Underneath, Nila's other hand moved towards her, and the side of it pressed into her right breast... Chloe let out a small yip. Nila's eyes flicked open. "Ssssh" she whispered. "Please relax." Chloe could now feel Nila's fingers lightly dance round and explore her breast, in a decreasing spiral which led towards her nipple... "Nila...." she whined softly. "Please. You are my friend. Let me." The last two words had a firmer tone; a command, not a request. Chloe didn't know whether to stay in bed and let her, or to spring out and scream. Nila's right hand moved up from Chloe's hip to her back, pulling her closer into Nila. Her nipple was being teased into life as Nila pushed her head out to softly kiss her on the lips. It was only a second before the kiss was broken, and their eyes locked together: Chloe's in amazement and confusion, Nila's in a comforting smile. Nila's hand moved across Chloe's chest, and started bringing her left nipple to life as well. The other hand found itself under Chloe's pyjama top, and was lightly caressing her back and side. Despite herself, Chloe found she enjoyed Nila's touch. She let her muscles detense, as Nila continued to explore all round her torso. "Nila..." she breathed again, but this time with less reluctance. Nila's response was to guide Chloe's arm onto her own breast: Chloe could already feel the nipples poking through the cotton. The points felt bigger than her own, springier: unsure of herself, she let the tips of her fingers circle around, the way she did to her own sometimes. As she did so, she felt Nila's hands leave her breasts, and move to undo the buttons of her top. The reality that she was being seduced, that Nila was going to make love to her, hit her body and made her quiver: half anxiety, half excitement. She found herself also gently, slowly, unbuttoning Nila's top. As she finished and pushed the material to the side, she saw Nila's breast caught in the orange light. A bigger, darker aureole than her own; the tight skin showing Nila's excitement. She pushed herself down the bed slightly, and gently pressed her lips to it. It was the Indian girl's turn to squeak softly now. Chloe felt her own pyjama top being pushed away; and now nothing between Nila's fingers and the soft white skin of her own breast. Chloe ran her tongue around Nila's nipple: gently brushed her lips over the tip: instinctively rolled her lips over her teeth to gently close over it. She felt Nila's hand leave her body; and could just see Nila push it into her pyjama bottoms. Chloe ran her own hand down Nila's arm: now she had gone this far, she was eager to go further, to explore more. Her hand joined Nila's under the elasticated waistband, and cupped it to press Nila further between her legs. A small sigh passed Nila's lips as she moved herself to allow Chloe access to her, and to use her own hand to explore down past Chloe's waist. Chloe's fingers lightly brushed Nila's pussy: she noted that Nila's was obviously much hairier than her own, and already the strands lower down were damp. And also, now she traced her fingers around, that Nila's lips were fuller, more pronounced... and wet. "Taste them" whispered Nila, as she pushed Chloe's legs open and began to work on her. Chloe pulled her hand out and brought it to her lips: little taste, but a sweet, pungent aroma, not unlike the one time she had tried her own after a long bath. Having tasted each finger, Chloe moved her hand back to Nila's pussy, and moved her head so they could kiss as they played with each other. Now Nila's hand had gone past Chloe's lips, and sought out both the hole and the button; Chloe could feel herself getting as damp as Nila was. She closed her eyes as she felt two of Nila's fingers work their way into her, and slowly start to thrust back and forth: at the same time, the thumb worked around Chloe's clitoris, occasionally brushing over with the gentlest of pressures. Her hand left Nila's body so she could push her pyjama bottoms down to her ankles: then continued around Nila's pussy, but not yet in, not whilst she... A yelp passed Chloe's lips: she could feel the excitement build inside her. Nila rolled Chloe onto her back, knees up in the air: then, with her other hand, pulled Chloe's legs further open and moved herself slightly down the bed to give herself more thrust, as she quickened her pace on Chloe's pussy. Chloe knew what was coming; she was going to be coming. But never with anybody else around, certainly not with anyone else pushing their fingers into her, and never had she thought it would be a girl doing this to her! Her muscles tensed up: her thighs closed around Nila's hand, and then suddenly she was there! "Nila!" She wanted to shout, but managed to keep it to a whisper, as she came over Nila's fingers. The Desk Ch. 03 She felt Nila pull out of her. In the semi-light, she saw Nila raise her hand to her mouth to taste Chloe's juices. "And this is just the start" she heard Nila softly breathe. 6 "Wow!" was all Angela had to say, as Chloe finished relating the tale of her first night with Nila. Chloe had noticed her slip a hand between her legs as she had spoken: now Chloe replaced it with her own hand, and gently caressed around Angela's pussy. "There's much more to it from there, of course... it was another six months before she went back to India. We were together most nights - not all." She paused. "We never really became girlfriends - we somehow both knew it wasn't going to turn into anything serious - but sometimes I still miss her." "Was she the only one during that time?" Angela breathed, as Chloe's fingers danced inside her. "Yes: and also the only girl until you, unless you count Ma'am. I particularly remember one night..." 7 She was trying to sleep off the exhaustion of having to finish two long essays on Orwell for a deadline: she had thought how it served her right for only starting them two days ago. At least there hadn't been any distractions - Tammy and Newt were in the middle of a tiff and there hadn't been any trampolining for a week, whilst Nila had gone down to London for a few days to visit relatives. She'd handed them in with half an hour to spare, got the bus home on autopilot, then dived into bed with just her T-shirt on. It was probably late evening when she was woken by the sounds of movement downstairs. The thought registered in her mind that Nila was due back; and although she remained supine, eyes blearingly focused on the lamp outside, her mind mentally followed the noises: footsteps on the stairs, heavy bags being shifted into the room next to hers, then a tiptoe round to her own door and a quiet creak as it opened. "Chloe?" hissed Nila's voice in a stage whisper. Chloe moaned softly, and turned onto her right side, into the wall. She tried to mouth the words "come in", but only uttered two monosyllabic grunts. She heard Nila close the door behind her, the ruffling of clothes, the snap of velcro... ...Velcro? The word wandered round her brain, found nothing to connect with, and floated out again. Now she felt the duvet move, as Nila came to join her in bed. Chloe pushed out her left arm to connect with Nila's hand: they locked fingers around each other as Nila bent down to kiss her softly on the cheek. Chloe felt the bedsprings move, and the mattress take Nila's weight: she felt Nila pull the duvet back up over them both, Nila's torso next to hers, and then... What the hell was that pressing onto the small of her back? Chloe shifted herself to face Nila: she felt her hand being guided down Nila's body, over her stomach, and there... "I bought you a present in London" giggled Nila. Now Chloe was much more awake. She brought both hands down to explore: the straps, the rough velcro holding them in place, tightly around Nila's hips: and at the front, six inches of warm rubber jutting out. "Bloody hell!" she breathed. "I knew you would like it." Nila's hand dived between Chloe's legs. "You're damp just at the thought of it, yes? Poor Chloe... just because I go away for a few days...!" "I've not had any time to... ummm..." "Yes, I'm sure you are right." Chloe knew that because this was her third language, this was close as Nila got to sarcasm in English. Nila threw off the duvet, pushed Chloe onto her back, ignored the sharp shriek, and climbed on top, dildo pushing into Chloe's stomach, arms pinning Chloe down onto the bed. "But tonight you will really be mine!" "I'm already yours!" Chloe protested, but unable to hide her eagerness. "You know the Kama Sutra, yes?" teased Nila. "With this, I will be able to take you through it all. You will never need a man, I will be your man." Nila's hips thrust as she said this, pushing the dildo back and forth over Chloe's abdomen. Chloe gasped. "Do it! Do it!" Nila rolled off and stretched her hand out to open the bedside drawer: then handed the bottle of gel from within to Chloe. "Get aboard." Nila lay on her back, and Chloe pulled herself up so she was sitting on Nila's knees. The black dildo jutted before her, slightly menacing in the faint orange light: Chloe noticed the imitation balls underneath. She squeezed a little jelly into her left hand, then onto the dildo. "Masturbate me!" hissed Nila: Chloe ringed her hand around it, pulling up and down in the way she'd once seen a boy do back home in the village. A little more jelly went round the head. Nila took Chloe's hands away from the dildo, and pulled her by her arms upwards. Chloe shifted her knees forwards, bent herself over Nila, then slowly back downwards as Nila aimed the dildo towards her pussy. First she felt the cold sticky gel on the tip: then she gasped as it pushed between her lips: Nila put her hands on Chloe's thighs to push her further down onto it - and then Chloe was down on top of Nila, feeling as if she was being impaled, torn apart from underneath. "Ahh, it's big!" "Now fuck my penis!" ordered Nila. She thrust up at Chloe, who flexed her thigh muscles to move herself upwards a couple of inches. This was better than all the toys they had used! Slowly, at first, she built up a rhythm, bouncing herself up and down on Nila, whose right hand went to seek out Chloe's clit. Chloe knew it wouldn't be long before she came: she was speeding up now, going further up the dildo before thrusting back down. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" whispered Nila in time with Chloe's movements: and then, a loud plop as Chloe pulled up too far, and the dildo slipped out of her pussy. She had to put a hand out to the headboard to stop herself being launched off the bed. "Forward, now" commanded Nila as she pulled herself out of the way: Chloe laid herself onto her front as Nila moved down the bed, planting kisses all over Chloe's back, and downwards onto her bottom. A little drool dripped from her mouth and ran down Chloe's arse-crack. Nila shifted herself around behind, and pulled Chloe up by the hips. Chloe knew what was coming: she pulled her legs forward and raised her arse in the air. Behind her Nila, on her knees, moved in towards Chloe. This time there was no need for slowness: Nila pushed straight in until she touched her hips to Chloe's arse: Chloe shrieked much louder as the balls swung onto her clit: "Fuck me, Nila!" And Nila did: as fast as she could manage, she thrust in and out, loving the sight of the dildo disappearing into Chloe, loving the creaks of the bed as she fucked, loving the cries Chloe made each time she rammed it all into her pussy. "Yes! Yes! Nila! Yes!" Chloe's toes flexed: her thighs tauted: "Now!" she shrieked as an extra hard thrust brought her over the edge, as Nila slapped the side of her arse, as she thrust back at Nila, as she came harder than she had known before. There were three loud thumps from the ceiling below. Tammy's voice boomed upwards; "Can't you two keep the fucking noise down?" 8 "Aaah!" moaned Angela, as Chloe brought her to climax with both hands: Chloe had weaved the story so well, she had imagined being there: seeing the two young women entwined, loving, fucking. Chloe brought her hands up so Angela could gently clean them with her lips and tongue: Chloe pulled her own face there too so they could share Angela's juices. They ended up kissing, cuddling, loving. "That reminds me", Angela whispered. "I picked up something special at Trimley's." She rolled herself out of Chloe's embrace, and to the bottom of the drawers beside the bed. "I meant to save it for your birthday next month, but I think you need it more now..." She threw a harness on the bed, then a pink dildo. She popped her head back up and grinned at Chloe. "And we'll see if Madam approves of it next Sunday..." The Desk Ch. 04 [Thanks to A for editing] 1] The ironing board in the kitchen was exactly the wrong height - or the right height depending on how one looked at it. Chloe tried to ignore it, but it meant she had to stretch her arms out further to press Mrs Petrescu's clothes; a task she usually performed with relish, eager to earn her Headmistress, manager and Ma'am's approval. Under the skirt of her dark green school uniform pinafore, though, the bulge of the harness and dildo constantly bashed against the edge of the board; enough to keep reminding her of its presence, and therefore of the reasons for its presence, but not enough to give her much in the way of pleasure - the pressure went onto her pubic bone, not further down to her clitoris or lips. Having to wear her tight gym knickers too far down so that the dildo jutted over the top wasn't very comfortable either. After several Sundays in which both she and Angela - who today was in purdah for wanton disobedience, locked in a cupboard - had been told to wear them throughout their visits, Chloe had got more used to the weight and the tightness of the harness around her hips; but the awkwardness of having her skirt five inches further forward than it would normally be still irritated her. No wonder men had evolved not to have constant erections, she thought. As she steamed every last crease out of one of her Ma'am's more severe black pencil skirts, she thought back to why both she and her lover [fiancee? - co-submissive?] were told to put on the dildos; Angela's purchase of one for use without Ma'am's knowledge - or permission - was regarded as a severe breach of the natural obedience the Headmistress demanded of her two "pupils". Chloe pictured the scene again; in the punishment room, its only furniture a heavy desk, both her and Angela had been stripped bare, and ordered to stand straight up with their hands together in the air. With a stepladder - and a little rough repositioning - Mrs Petrescu had lashed their arms to a beam in the ceiling, forcing them to stand on tiptoe, a couple of feet from and facing each other. "You want to use these pathetic imitation dicks?" taunted the Headmistress. "Then go right ahead." From a drawer in the desk she produced both Angela's harness and dildo, and another similar all-in-one strapon, the phallus catching the light in its translucent red. Turning first to Angela, she told the young teacher to step into the harness: it was roughly pulled up her legs, and the Velcro strapping tightly secured. Chloe, similarly and just as harshly, found herself sporting the dildo Angela had bought and which had aroused the Headmistress' indignation. Mrs Petrescu positioned herself exactly between the two pupils; pulling on each of the dildos, she forced each woman to thrust her hips forward towards the other. "Good", said the Headmistress, "about two inches overlap." Turning back to the desk and reaching underneath it, she produced a single-tail whip. Chloe watched as the Headmistress positioned herself behind Angela; then with a mighty crack, she heard it bite into Angela's skin, and saw how her lover gasped with both pain and pleasure. Two further strokes were applied; Angela reacted to each just as strongly, her thighs rubbing against each other to try to apply some friction to her pussy between the strokes. It was Chloe's turn next. She tensed her body, waiting for the first bite of the tail into her cheeks... CRACK! Her hips jerked forward, the harnessed dildo she was wearing banging into Angela's. CRACK! That one caught the inside of one of her cheeks, almost down to where she was getting very wet, very quickly... CRACK! A high squeak escaped from Chloe's mouth. The pain, the pain, but the pressure inside, further forward. "...more, please, Ma'am...", she breathed. All she heard was the sound of Mrs Petrescu's shoes, and the slam of the door to the punishment room. The fire in Chloe's pussy was not to be sated. Both the women had hung there for some time before Angela whispered to her to thrust forward. She could see in the look in her lover's eyes that both were suffering the same from the denial of further punishment and any release afterwards. As she jerked her hips forward towards Angela, at the same time as her lover, their dildos clashed. "Sword fight?" Angela breathed. With a little aiming practice, they found that pushing, battling, clashing their dildos against each other was enough to produce a little friction between their legs - only a little, but maybe if they did it enough, it would... 2] The steam rising from the board brought Chloe back into the kitchen. She gave a small yelp as she lifted the iron from the skirt; examining it closely, she found that luckily she had done no discernible damage. She offered a small thanks to whoever was watching over her; a punishment for a serious transgression - exile from her Headmistress' presence for several weeks - was something she certainly didn't want to undergo. Chloe, despite her initial innocence, was by now experienced enough to know the difference between "play" punishment - designed to heighten the two women's pleasure and cement their devotion to their Headmistress - and the *real* punishments of being deprived of such sweet pain, of being left alone and trapped in one's own longing. Angela's current imprisonment would hurt her not because it was humiliating to undergo the sensory deprivation of the small cupboard under the stairs, but because - Chloe also knew this from experience - Angela would miss out on whatever depraved delights the Headmistress would choose; a special activity, which only Chloe would be involved in, which she would recount to Angela later and provoke a sting of jealousy in the other pupil. And so it turned out when Chloe finished the ironing, and presented herself to Mrs Petrescu back in the sitting room. Giving a small curtsy, she asked what other tasks she'd be required to perform: the Headmistress ignored her and continued reading. Time passed: Chloe stood still, head slightly bowed, hands clasped behind back, skirt bulge still sticking obscenely in front of her. Eventually Mrs Petrescu put down her book. "You can leave the rest of the chores this afternoon, Chloe; given your, ahem, 'partner''s insubordination in the bathroom this morning, I'll add the remainder of them to her list next week. In the meantime..." Her face broke into thought for a second before she continued; "...go up to the spare bedroom. Shoes and beret off, face upwards on the bed." "At once, Ma'am" Chloe replied, briefly curtsied, and hurried up the stairs. The spare bedroom was very rarely used for any activity in the house; Mrs Petrescu had few overnight visitors, yet both Chloe and Angela kept it scrupulously clean. Chloe took off her beret and shook her hair back into place; then placed the beret on the bedside table. She kicked off her black kitten heels, and bent down to place them neatly under the bed. Taking care not to crease her uniform unduly, she reached over to lie face up on the centre of the double bed, her hands crossed over on her stomach, her legs together but straight out, her head on two soft pillows. Wondering what her Headmistress had in store for her, she let her gaze fall around the room; she had of course dusted every inch of it in her time performing domestic chores, but had never seen it from this vantage point. It was much more cosy than the stark minimalism of the punishment room; as well as the crochet-covered double bed with both head and footboard, the Victorian wardrobe, dressing table and bedside table, all bedecked with lace and doilies, there was the faint smell of roses from the previous Sunday when Angela had left a bowl of petals in the room. This, and the softness of the bed, slowly relaxed Chloe as she sunk into the mattress. Her eyes were getting heavy, too: all that washing and drying and ironing and polishing and vacuuming and dusting and... 3] The feeling of her arm being pulled brought Chloe back to consciousness. She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but she noticed the light was fading through the net curtains. Still lying prone, she felt her right arm - then her left - being pulled upwards and to the top corners of the bed. Something was tied around each wrist, and secured with Velcro. It was not until Mrs Petrescu moved down the bed to also strap Chloe's ankles that she properly woke up and realized what was happening. The Headmistress pulled her down the bed slightly - making her wrist straps more taut - and, with swift and firm movements, secured each ankle to a brass bar of the footboard. Chloe squirmed to test them; she had at best one inch of slack between wrist and ankle. Turning back to pat the younger woman on the side of the face to make sure she was fully awake, Mrs Petrescu stared into Chloe's eyes. The usual steely determination bored into Chloe's pupils; and yet, behind it... The gaze only lasted a second; and then was broken. But it was enough to send Chloe into subspace; all that existed were her feelings of devotion to her Headmistress, her wish to experience whatever pain and pleasure would be meted out to her, and... she had to admit to herself, a wry pleasure at knowing Angela was barred from this and she would have to recount every detail to her lover later on when they were back in their own bed. Mrs Petrescu walked around to the dressing table, picked some things from a drawer without letting Chloe see, then came back to the top of the bed. "Head up and mouth open, girl." In the dying light, Chloe caught a brief glimpse of the bright red plastic ball as it was thrust between her lips and secured behind her; then she saw nothing as a soft blindfold was put over her eyes and the elastic strap pinged into position. "Comfortable? One grunt for yes, two for no." Chloe grunted through the ballgag once: she tried to make it express both her assent and her devotion, her helplessness, her total submission. It must have sounded like a pathetic mewl, she thought. Now she only had sound to work out what was going on. Her Headmistress' footsteps, in the sensible black shoes, she knew well. A zip going down; the shuffling of clothes; something being taken out and put on the dressing table. The thought of Mrs Petrescu, always very careful about exposing herself in front of either Chloe or Angela, being naked in the same room as her sent an electric charge down her front, through her stomach, and down between her legs. What had she got planned? She felt the Headmistress put a leg on the bed right next to her head; instinctively she turned her face towards it. Although the gag prevented her from using her mouth or tongue, she lovingly brushed her left cheek against the leather of Mrs Petrescu's shoe; if she could have purred like a cat, she would have. Now as well as sound, there was smell: the polish, leather and sweet foot odour, plus - what was that in the distance? - yes, unmistakably, the Headmistress' own aroma, and the shortening of breath. She could also hear, very faintly, skin rubbing against skin; not her own, so... the Headmistress? Fiddling with herself? Over her? She pressed her face more firmly, stroking more quickly against the shoe. She could feel her pussy warming up, moistening up, underneath the harness. Suddenly the leg was pulled off the bed: Chloe shook her head in a moment of displeasure, then lay back still, wishing she could at least see the Headmistress, even if she couldn't taste her. She heard two shoes being dropped on the floor, then felt Mrs Petrescu climb onto the bed, and inbetween Chloe's legs. She felt her pinafore being pulled up to her waist; her knickers being pulled down as far as they would go: she sensed the Headmistress move forward, part her legs, and then, slowly... "Oh my God!" she tried to exclaim through the gag. Slowly, inch by inch, Mrs Petrescu took Chloe's dildo into her pussy, until she was sitting, legs astride, on the younger woman's abdomen, feet against Chloe's thighs, hands on Chloe's waist. Chloe could feel her muscles contract and retract around the dildo, sending the pressure down to Chloe's pubic mound; now, much more strongly, the aroma of the Headmistress' juices filled Chloe's nostrils. The Headmistress started to bob up and down on her; instinctively she tried to raise her hips up in a fucking motion, but was too constrained to have much effect. She felt Mrs Petrescu lean further forward, legs gripping Chloe's waist, as the pace quickened. She heard low moans escape the Headmistress' lips, and the odd low grunt, and she wondered how much Angela, in the downstairs cupboard, would be hearing of this. The fire in Chloe's own pussy was building, building; but she knew that just the pressure from the harness alone wouldn't be able to take her over the edge, however hard the Headmistress was now bouncing up and down on top of her hips. And then, hearing a low grunt of "fuck me, bitch!", she felt Mrs Petrescu cum on top of her; she felt the Headmistress' muscles contract all around her dildo, she felt the wetness drip through the harness, she felt the feet kick into her thighs. She felt her Ma'am fall on top of her, panting heavily, still impaled on her dildo, arms now entwining around Chloe as her breathing subsided. Chloe didn't know how long they lay there like that: there was no time, only the heat of her Ma'am's body on top of her, the feeling of satisfaction that she had given pleasure to her Headmistress, and the itch, itch, itch that she herself badly needed to cum. Eventually she felt Mrs Petrescu lift herself off: the dildo plopped out. She heard the Headmistress leave the bed, and fumble about to dress; she again heard the clack of the heels around the room. She tried to express herself through the gag, tried to instil her grunt with an air of pleading, of not being left alone. She heard a rip of Velcro, and felt her ankles being undone: with swift movements, her harness was taken off, and her pussy exposed to the air. Before Chloe could enjoy this sensation, her ankles were secured again to the footboard. Then, walking up to the head of the bed, Mrs Petrescu removed Chloe's blindfold. It was almost dark; even at a close distance, it was difficult to make out the Headmistress bending over her. "Poor bitch." Mrs Petrescu brought the dildo and harness into Chloe's vision, and tapped the tip against the rubber ball gag twice. It still smelled strongly of the Headmistress' cum. Then Chloe could just make out her Ma'am bending further down; she spread Chloe's thighs, and roughly jammed the dildo straight into the hole, causing Chloe to jolt with both pain and excitement. It was still very warm, and must have still been very wet from... Heels clicked on the floor. A door opened and closed, and a key was turned, as Chloe wriggled and built herself up towards... 4] It was Angela who came to release her, after Chloe had made herself cum twice. Angela switched on the light, causing Chloe to screw her eyes up as she adjusted to the bright light, as Angela slowly pulled the dildo from Chloe's hole, stopping for a moment to feel the damp patch underneath on the blanket. Chloe opened her eyes. Angela - still in her gym uniform, but also with an obscene bulge underneath her pleated skirt - bent down to undo the straps holding Chloe's limbs to the bed, and hauled her to an upright seated position. Chloe smoothed her pinafore down and started rubbing some life back into her arms and legs, before embracing Angela: the two women hugged, and shared a brief kiss. "Madam has gone out for the evening", Angela explained. "She told me to fetch you and lock up behind her. ...What happened up here? I heard some banging about, but..." Chloe smiled, and kissed Angela on the forehead. "I'll tell you when we get home." "Will you show me when we get home?" Chloe reached down to the bulge under Angela's skirt, and gave it a quick jerking motion. "I think Ma'am wouldn't like that: I think we have to reserve it as her privilege." She pulled her hand away, and took Angela's in hers. The two women looked deep into each others' eyes, and found the same thing; devotion to each other, and to their Headmistress. "I think", Chloe said formulating her thoughts, "I'll keep quiet about it: next week I may get myself locked away so you can enjoy it..."